Friday 25 October 1996

Phase Two: Day 1

~~~~HP~~~~

As it always did, Friday rolled around faster than Harry was exactly ready for. It was a bright day outside, at least it looked like it through his enchanted window, but he could almost feel that snow was around the corner any day now. There was something in the air around him, even in the dungeons, that felt like the ground would be covered in snow not long after Halloween.

His tutoring and classes had been cancelled for the day due to his chemotherapy, but Professor McGonagall had stopped by yesterday to squeeze in a short transfiguration lesson so he wouldn't start next week any further behind than he already was.

Harry had started that morning, as he did most chemotherapy mornings, with a quick shower and he had just made it back to his room when he saw his new uniforms hanging in his wardrobe.

I should try them on, he thought and grabbed for a set instead of the soft blue pyjamas he was about to put on for his treatment. Up until now, for all of his lessons he'd been wearing jumpers and jeans choosing to be comfortable in his own home, even when he was doing lessons with the professors. His interpretation of their dress code was that they needed to wear the uniform in classes, and well, until next week he hadn't technically been in classes. Starting Monday though, he'd need to wear the uniform that he was sure would hang off his now highly unproportional frame. He had just finished tying his tie and slipped on the Gryffindor robe, when there was a soft knock on his door and Snape walked in before he could even respond. The professor's dark eyes went wide with surprise to see Harry in his full Gryffindor robes again. Harry questioned to himself if seeing him in his uniform brought back awful memories of their previous turbulent years.

"That's definitely a much better length," Snape said, walking over to stand in front of him.

"The rest looks too big," Harry whined, alluding to the significant space between his shirt and his chest and arms. "I look like it swallowed me whole."

"Do not worry," he reassured the self-conscious teen, "you'll gain the weight back, plus no one will even notice once your robe is closed."

Harry aggressively loosened his tie again to start changing back into his pyjamas thinking that maybe this was a bad idea after all. With the Skeeter article still making waves with his classmates, no good could come on Monday morning.

"Can I get some privacy?" Harry sharply asked the professor so he could get changed. "I'll be right out for breakfast."

"Of course, I was coming to let you know Madam Pomfrey is here for your blood sample," Snape walked back to the door. "I'll meet you in the sitting room."

Harry didn't respond - feeling a little guilty over his sullen attitude - and the moment his door closed, he threw his tie into the wardrobe, questioning if Snape would let him just stay in tutoring. No, he wouldn't do that. Harry would have to suck it up and use his Gryffindor courage to walk into class Monday like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Just like with all his other chemotherapy treatments, phase two started out with a blood sample and an IV of the antiemetic medication. Harry thought back to the last fifteen weeks and wondered how many muggle medications he'd had in that timeframe, quickly coming to the conclusion it was far more than he'd had in the whole rest of his life. If he was able to keep at least a bit of his magic, once all of this was behind him, he never wanted to take a muggle medication again - IV, liquid, or tablet. In fact, he started to think that even if he lost his magic completely, he would still find some way to live in the magical world. Somehow Filch managed it, but he'd have to commit to being less grumpy then the caretaker. Now that he thought about, maybe that was why Filch was such an arse all the time? It had to be hard to live among all the magic and not be able to use any of it.

During the time he was waiting on his blood sample, he ate breakfast and started some of his school work before Dudley stopped by after what Harry knew was the end of breakfast in the Great Hall. It also meant that classes were about to start and both boys were officially going to miss their classes that day.

"Morning, Harry," Dudley greeted as he entered the kitchen and took a seat next to the Gryffindor. He had a cloud of sorrow around him and Harry couldn't help feeling that he was the cause of his cousin's anguish.

"Morning, Dudley," he replied, "Want some breakfast?"

"No, I ate upstairs," his cousin replied. "So what do you have going on today? Will it pretty much be what you had back at home?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, finishing as much of his porridge and smoothie as he could, then he took his morning medications. "They're all pretty much the same. Today I'll get the one in my back, which thankfully I won't need to do again for another month, and then two, one hour IVs. After the IT, we can do whatever while the IVs finish."

Dudley's face was a combination of horror and confusion. This had become so normal for Harry these last four months, but explaining as he did to Dudley sounded a little overwhelming - specifically the medication in his back.

"Maybe I should go-"

"It's fine Dudley," Harry interrupted, "seriously, this is the same medication I got the last two weeks and yeah, I'll be sick, but nothing like the day you guys stopped by here."

Harry was being completely truthful and it was something that had him puzzled as well. In the last two weeks, he hadn't had any of the burning pain in his stomach, like when he was doing his "hell weeks". In fact, it was so different that the IV of morphine wasn't needed anymore since the tablets worked well enough for these medications when Dr. Meghan suggested he try without the IV last round. He didn't want to complain, however he also couldn't help thinking it was significant somehow.

When Madam Pomfrey came by for his blood sample and to start the antiemetic, both teenagers moved to the sitting room with their respective studying. Harry was surprised to see how serious Dudley was taking his assistant teaching duties on muggle studies as he sat in the sitting room marking papers.

"Good morning, Harry," Dr. Meghan's cheerful voice greeted as she stepped from the floo.

"Morning," he mumbled, catching Dudley's attention. The Gryffindor gave his head a small shake, indicating he'd fill Dudley in later.

Neither muggle was bothered when Snape transfigured the sofa into the exam table for his IT chemo, showing how comfortable they'd gotten around magic. Dudley stood next to him during the IT while Snape helped hold him in place. The young wizard also thought it was worth noting to himself yet again that this was the last one of these for the next thirty days. He'd gotten an IT every week during the first phase of consolidation and celebrated internally the moment he was able to get up.

"That was the last one for a while," Snape declared patting Harry on the shoulder. The young wizard smiled at his professor; the fact that he was celebrating a little, too, made him feel good inside.

After having as many five hour treatments as he'd gone through, the two hours felt like nothing and before Harry knew it, he was done. Tomorrow he would have another one hour of a different medication, one he hadn't had since induction phase and then he'd get a nine-day break; the longest chemo break he'd had since July, not counting the time he was unconscious with pneumonia.

"I'm sorry I forgot it was Aunt Petunia's birthday today," Harry said when they were back in his room after the chemotherapy was completed.

Harry was sitting on his bed sketching while Dudley was writing a letter at his desk to one of his school friends. When he needed it, his cousin would hand him the pail to sick up or help him to the loo, otherwise the boys were simply enjoying each other's company in the quiet dungeon quarters. Harry found himself questioning if this was what their life at Privet Drive could have been like had the Dursley's treated him like a son; like a brother to Dudley instead of the freak cousin. The young wizard shook his head to try to rid himself of the negative thoughts that threatened to take over.

"S'ok, Harry," Dudley replied, "I wouldn't expect you to remember it after everything that happened to you in that house."

"Do you know when mine is?" The question slipped out so quickly, he mentally kicked himself for asking it.

Dudley's face went red. "Erm-"

"You don't have to answer that," Harry quickly said, hoping to salvage whatever he could from it. "I don't know why I asked that."

"I know it's at the end of July," Dudley shrugged, a little embarrassed, "a month after mine."

"It's the 31st," Harry added quietly, thinking of the awful prophesy, "It's literally the end of July."

"Yeah, I knew that," Dudley said and an awkward silence fell between them. "Are you going to the Quidditch match on Saturday?"

"I didn't even know there was one," he said sourly. It appeared to him that not only was he not playing in the bloody game, no one had told him there would be one coming up. Trying to keep a better attitude, Harry took a deep breath and said, "I'll ask Severus if I can go. I don't see why not, he let me go to the trials."

While it took all of his resolve to stay positive the rest of the day, Harry did his best to help keep Dudley's anxious mind busy; they played muggle board games, chess, exploding snaps, and studied. Dudley walked Harry through the lessons they were learning in muggle studies, one of which ironically covered muggle medicine and Harry got the impression his cousin wanted him to talk to the class about his plentiful medications. Harry showed Dudley the fake potions kit that Malfoy left behind after their last lesson so Harry could do some extra studying before classes started again, and they both had fun trying different combinations to see which ones "exploded" the best. Through all of this, in the back of Harry's mind, was a black cloud plaguing his thoughts. Growing up practically in Dudley's shadow, it was becoming hard to look at his cousin slowly stepping into his old life, into the world that used to be all of his alone, that was his reprieve from the abuses at Privet Drive. It was a hard reality check that he would soon be facing the longer this battle with the cancer continued. While he had been fighting against his own body to stay alive, life at Hogwarts had been moving on without him.

The young wizard had fallen asleep shortly after dinnertime. The last thing he remembered was Dobby bringing a small cake so he could "celebrate" Aunt Petunia's birthday with Dudley. He wasn't able to eat any of the cake because at that point, the chemotherapy had officially caught up and he was too sick to keep anything down. He and Dudley had been back in his bedroom playing wizard's chess when he must have fallen asleep midgame.

He first dreamed of growing up with Dudley as a brother; the two of them riding bikes down Privet Drive, watching movies on the telly, and trying to convince Aunt Petunia that they hadn't worked on their homework together during primary school. Then his dream changed into living with his mum and dad back at Godric's Hollow; in a house he'd never actually seen yet somehow it felt so familiar to him that he felt he would be able to recognize it anywhere. He had a younger brother and a baby sister who he would tell all about Hogwarts to when he went back home for the Christmas holiday. Then he was taken to a different home where he lived with Snape in a small cottage by the sea. In this part of the dream, he was sick in bed with the window above his head bringing the sounds of crashing waves and the salty sea air into his bedroom. Snape was sitting at his bedside helping him take a sip of ginger ale and Harry could almost feel the bubbles tickling his throat in the dream.

Back in his bed in their dungeon home, Harry bolted out of bed for the lavatory; not even having time to put on his slippers - he'd forgotten to put on his warm socks when he'd gotten into bed - before he vomited into the loo. Waking up nauseous was one of the worst feelings in the world of chemotherapy for him. One minute he's sleeping almost soundly in his bed and the next he's emptying his stomach inside out until he was physically shaking.

When the dry heaving passed, he rested his head on the top of his knees until he heard the soft footsteps coming in from the door leading to his bedroom. Groaning, the young wizard lifted his head expecting to see Dudley, and was pleasantly surprised when Snape was standing there holding a glass of ginger ale in his right hand and his red blanket in his left. If he had the energy, he would have smiled because it was everything he'd wanted in that exact moment.

Wrapping the warm red blanket around Harry's thin shoulders, the professor sat down onto the floor besides the ill wizard and helped him take a sip of ginger ale from the glass. Harry could feel the cool liquid hit his stomach and almost instantly the intense cramping settled just enough. Without a second of hesitation, the Gryffindor leaned over and rested his head on Snape's shoulder. At this point, it had almost become a routine for the pair of wizards.

"W-where... is Dudley?" He asked with a shaky voice. This was supposed to be a day to help Dudley keep his mind off his parents and Harry felt like he'd failed his cousin yet again.

"He left quite some time ago," Snape said quietly, "it's about half past one right now. You were finally able to get some good sleep and he didn't want to wake you."

"I'm fine," Harry said with a dramatic exhale.

"No, you're not," the professor honestly replied, "you only think you are. Let's get you back to bed."

Snape stood first and then bent down to assist Harry off the floor and back into his bed where he wrapped the green soft bedspread around Harry's body.

"Did I wake you, sir?" Harry asked in a small voice feeling guilty for seemingly always waking the professor.

"No," Snape said quickly, "I was already up tending to a complicated potion when I heard you up."

Is that what he's been doing locked away in his office?

The Gryffindor furrowed his eyebrows trying not fall asleep before he could ask, "What's it for?"

"Something for the Order," he replied and was rubbing small circles on Harry's back that gave the young wizard no chance of staying awake to ask anymore questions about it.

Monday 28, October 1996

The day had finally arrived and Harry woke up on his first day of classes with his stomach completely tied in knots. It was worse than the day of the Quidditch tryouts last month, and he found himself standing in the shower simply to delay the inevitable. He'd been so excited and positive about going back to classes, yet somehow now he could not make his legs move to actually get out of the shower and dress for the day.

A knock on the door brought him back to the reality that no matter how nervous he was, he needed to move. Obviously he'd been in the shower far too long and Snape knew it too.

"Are you alright in there?" He heard the professor's baritone voice ask from the other side of the door.

"Yeah," turning off the hot water, he yelled his answer with a shaky voice. Today he would need to stand confidently, no matter what he felt inside. If he appeared in control, then maybe no one would mess with him.

"Hurry up," the voice called through the door, "you don't want to be late for your first class. I've heard that professor does not tolerate tardiness from anyone, even the Boy-Who-Lived."

Especially from the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry gave a small chuckle, appreciative of the distraction for as little time as it was. As his luck would have it, his first class was Defense with Snape and he had no doubts that the man would take points the second he was late - if for no other reason then to prove a point that Harry would receive no special treatment. At least that was something normal he could focus on when everything else was too chaotic. It would take all of his courage to walk into that classroom today in front of all his peers knowing they were still talking about the article in the Daily Prophet.

The Gryffindor stood before the mirror and dressed in his school clothes at such a record slow pace he'd be lucky if he'd have time for breakfast before defense class. He completed his school uniform with a black hat to keep his head warm in the cold castle - otherwise he had quickly learned he would get a migraine - and finally grabbed his wand from the bedside table to safely stow it in his robes, unsure if he would need it today, but refusing to go without it. As with the other times he'd held his wand, he could feel the magic flowing through him, not unlike the first time he'd held the Holly wand back at Olivanders, except it wasn't nearly as strong as it had been the night of his first and second magic exams. It was something that intrigued him and he made a mental note to ask Snape about it later.

Voices were coming from the sitting room, drawing the Gryffindor's attention away from his ghastly appearance and out to the corridor. Straining to listen, Harry immediately recognized them as Professor McGonagall and Snape; ironically, his two professors for his in-class lessons today, both of which were in the morning.

"Well, don't you think we should give him a fair warning?" he heard the Transfiguration professor's stern voice ask. As usual, Snape was too good at making sure he could not be overheard for Harry to hear his response.

The young wizard slipped out of his bedroom silently and watched both professors discussing whatever it was she wanted to tell him, in front of the door to the kitchen. McGonagall was facing away from him, but he could tell her arms were crossed over her body giving the impression that she disagreed with whatever it was Snape had said.

"Discuss what with me?" He asked, stepping out of the corridor and into view.

McGonagall turned around quickly and when she saw him standing in front of her, fully dressed in his school clothes and robes, she swiped away what Harry knew were tears. Immediately, his face flushed; this was going to be a long half-day if everyone gave him that look.

"Oh Harry," she said approaching him as if to give him a hug, then at the last minute decided against it, "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm nervous," the young wizard responded, "I just don't want anyone to make a big deal of it, that's all."

"They will," Snape said honestly, gesturing Harry to the kitchen table where his breakfast - scrambled eggs and buttered toast - sat waiting for him. Both professors sat down at the table with him, feeling oddly like they were a family. A quick glance at the clock showed he only had forty minutes to eat and make it up to the defense classroom before he was truly late for class.

"I just want you to be prepared," Snape continued, "it may be a rough day. Unfortunately, sixteen year olds can be harsh at the best of times and you happen to be in an extremely unique situation."

"Not to mention, I know you've heard all the things everyone has been saying recently," Harry added, giving a blank expression before taking a couple bites of his eggs. So far, the end of phase one and beginning of phase two of consolidation had been everything he'd hoped; he had really only been sick for a day after the chemo instead of it lingering on. While he still was suffering from a lack of appetite, when he was reminded to eat, it at least stayed down. "Ron's been giving me a play-by-play about what people are saying in almost every class."

"Just try to keep your head up, Harry," Professor McGonagall said. "You have support from almost all the student body - remember that."

She sounded just like Hermione and he was about to say so when a piece of parchment popped up in front of Snape.

"Does everyone's quarters have that or just ours?" The Gryffindor wizard asked, trying to draw attention away from how he was feeling about the start of school.

"They all do," Snape answered before standing to greet whoever was at their door.

"Harry!" The young wizard turned at the sound of Hermione's voice calling him in her typical exuberant way.

"Hey 'Mione! What're you doing here?" He asked, offering her some of the food from the table, which she politely declined.

"I thought you'd like it if we walked to class together," she explained, taking a good look at him and then reached out to straighten his hat. She gave a telling look to the two professors, giving away the fact that this had likely been planned between the three of them.

"Alright," Harry said pushing away his partially eaten breakfast, "let's go."

"Aren't you going to finish eating?" She asked, concerned.

"I'm good," the young wizard said ignoring the pointed stares from all three of them, "Listen, I'm nervous and I'll just end up sicking the rest up if I eat any more. That's not really how I want to start my first class. From what I hear, my first professor doesn't take vomiting as an excuse for tardiness."

"That bastard," Snape replied without missing a beat and it caused both Harry and Hermione to start laughing hysterically. Once the two students had regained some kind of control, he said, "I'll see you in class, Mr. Potter."

"See you in class professor," Harry said and grabbed his school bag that he had already filled with his Defense and Transfiguration textbooks, plus all the school supplies he had gotten from Snape and his latest essays to hand in.

The two friends walked through the dungeons side by side as they made their way up to the Defense classroom. Unlike when they walked this similar path for the Quidditch tryouts, this time they weren't as lucky to have no Slytherins walking in the corridors and Harry did his hardest to ignore the glares from each student they passed.

"Where's Ron?" He asked, trying to make some kind of small talk with the Gryffindor witch to fill the awkward space between them.

"You know Ronald," she said casually, "he's not a morning person and is probably still having breakfast."

Something about the way she said it felt off to the young wizard. Had they gotten in a row before he even had a chance to be back in classes with them both? He narrowed his eyes at her.

After the fifth set of Slytherins they passed gave him the same death glare, Harry stopping her in the corner of the corridor, and asked, "What happened, Hermione? I expected everyone to stare at me, and sure the Slytherins usually are more hostile about it, but this has been bad."

The young witch shifted her weight uncomfortably, making it clear something had happened either over the weekend or that morning.

"Professor Dumbledore made an announcement last night at dinner about your return to classes," she said, scrunching her face in the memory, "he may have implied that should anyone give you a hard time about it today, it would be grounds for an instant detention... And he made it clear that the Slytherins were the main target of this new rule."

"Lovely," Harry mumbled. "I wish he hadn't said anything."

"And well," Hermione awkwardly continued, "I've heard rumors that Professor Snape said he'd double any detention that his house earned for messing with you. He said it had something to do with it being a punishment because Slytherins should be smart enough to not get caught, however everyone knows that's not the real reason. I mean, it's no secret you've been living with him all these months, so..."

Without thinking, Harry slammed his palm against the stone wall in frustration; not sure if it was at Dumbledore for making a statement like that in the first place or at Snape for making the situation between them even more obvious. Now they both had bigger targets on their backs.

"Let's just get this over with 'Mione," Harry groaned, leading Hermione out of the dungeons and up towards their classroom.

As they approached the door to the defense room, the Gryffindor wizard unconsciously started slowing his stride until he was two meters behind Hermione. His heart was racing, his breathing shallowed, and the blood was rushing so loud into his ears he couldn't hear all the commotion coming from the classroom. His vision was starting to tunnel when he heard Hermione ahead of him, that brought him out of the almost-panic attack.

"Harry, it'll be fine," she reassured her friend standing still to allow him to catch up and then she wrapped her right arm around his bony shoulders to help guide him into the classroom.

"I really thought we'd be here before most of the rest of the class," he said after eventually picking up on the bountiful of voices coming through the doorway.

The room was filled with far more students than Harry would have expected with still ten minutes before the start of the lesson, yet that wasn't what had him stopped still in the doorway. The room wasn't filled with only the sixth year Defense N.E.W.T. students, but also with all the D.A members - the different years and different houses included - Dudley, and the new first year Gryffindors he hadn't even met yet, waiting for him to arrive. His breath hitched and he instantly felt the moisture of tears starting in the corners of his eyes when he noticed that Dudley and all of the D.A. wizards had absolutely no hair. Completely speechless, he stood there not sure if he wanted to run into the classroom or away from it.

"You guys are going to be cold today," he said, walking up to his friends, who practically smothered him.

Now that Harry was standing among them a wave of gratitude washed over him so deep it nearly consumed him. This week wouldn't be too bad as long as he had his friends surrounding him. While it was amazing to be living with Snape and feel like he had a parent beside him, at the end of the day he also needed his friends just as much. They had been his first true family and after being literally quarantined away, it felt like he was getting a piece of himself back.

"We wanted to do something to show our support today," Ron said, patting Harry reassuringly on the shoulder without even a hint of embarrassment over his own lack of hair. In fact, looking around the room at his friends, none of them showed even any degree of self-consciousness nor regret.

"It was Hermione's idea to get us all together here," Neville added proudly.

Harry turned and a sheepish smile crossed his friend's face and he silently mouthed "thank you" to her.

The D.A. members all sat around Harry's seat talking about the latest gossip - which included Ron's sudden relationship with Lavender Brown, a fact that seemed to bother Hermione though she didn't say anything about it - and the upcoming Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch game this Saturday. Harry hadn't had the time to ask Snape if he'd be able to go because the professor was unusually busy working on whatever that potion was for the Order. He had spent more time than usual locked away in his laboratory and while Harry wanted to know what exactly the potion was for, the young wizard had already crossed the privacy line once with the notebook and was not wanting to do it again. Ultimately he knew that if Snape wanted him to know about it, the professor would have said something by now. As for the Quidditch game, he didn't see what difference going to the pitch would be compared to classes, nevertheless he was still going to get Snape's permission before committing to anything.

With only about five minutes left before the start of class, Snape came storming into the room with his black teaching robes billowing behind him. The sight that used to make Harry angry and anxious now, after everything they'd been through, was almost calming. At least until Snape paused glaring out at the sea of students - more than half of which weren't even in this class - and spoke his first, dark words of the school day.

"Unless the majority of you want detention for tardiness to your first class of the week," he said sharply, "I suggest you vacate my classroom this instant."

Everyone besides the sixth years shuffled to get their bags, said a quick goodbye to Harry, and left before Snape could turn back around to really yell at them. To add insult to injury, the Slytherins walked in as the D.A. members were leaving. Harry could tell they wanted to say something about all the wizards that no longer had their hair, except one look at Snape's murderous glare was enough to stop them.

"Welcome back to class, Mr. Potter," he announced when the bell rang and everyone else took their seats. As expected, murmuring and snickering crossed over the classroom. "I expect there will be no… distractions in class today?"

"None, professor," Harry said in a serious tone, yet his small smirk gave way to show how comfortable he was with where their new relationship was headed.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus stood outside of his defense classroom listening to the members of Harry's defense group laughing about some odd piece of gossip the professor had zero interest in listening to. His keen hearing instantly picked up the single sound he wanted to hear above all others today - Harry's laughter - and it filled a void within him he had since arriving in this reality; Harry being able to feel truly happy, even if just for a moment.

When Hermione asked to use his classroom to gather his friends before their first class, Severus did not hesitate to approve. It would do Harry well to see he has more support throughout the school then he likely thought in his own mind. Looking back through his counterpart's memories, the Gryffindor had such a difficult fourth and fifth year, if there was any way to help this rough transition, he wanted to do what he could. The fact that the wizards in his group had shaved their heads, showed how respected Harry was among his friends and hopefully that would help him feel a little more comfortable today.

Over the last week, the former spy had put an inordinate amount of time in trying to determine where his role would fall once Harry returned to class. After Albus's warning regarding his Slytherins, he was working at blending his dual roles, yet as he stood outside his classroom, he'd come to the conclusion that he really did not care anymore. With Harry back in classes, he absolutely could not ostracize the teen as he'd done the previous years. They had built a level of trust and dependency on one another and he refused to lose it because of some Death Eater children. He'd managed to survive two wars thus far by trusting his own instincts and he was determined to continue to do so. Harry needed him and he would do everything in his power not to let the teenager down.

In the Slytherin common room last night, he'd given his students a thorough warning regarding their behavior towards the Gryffindor today and in the upcoming weeks. It didn't matter what everyone assumed the reasoning behind his warning was, he made it clear - and he did believe it - that as Slytherins they should not be caught acting in such a way. Therefore, any detentions earned for blatant disregard to heeding the headmaster's directive would get double whatever detention they had originally received. As expected, there were murmurs of disaccord, yet he left it at that anyway.

It just so happened to work out that the day's lesson was a theoretical one on dark creatures - with focus on dementors and inferi - and therefore they would not need to cross the bridge of how to handle Harry's magic use this morning.

"What exactly is an inferi?" Pavarti asked before he could even get started on the lesson.

"They are corpses," said the professor calmly as he walked the length of the classroom. "Technically, they are dead bodies that have been bewitched to do a dark wizard's bidding. Imagine what the Dark Lord could do if he does not need to worry about such inconveniences as his army perishing in battle."

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" said Pavarti in a high pitched voice. "Is it definite? Is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Severus truthfully, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."

"How would we know?" Dean interrupted, raising his hand while he asked the question.

Knowing this was a topic he'd discussed with Harry during tutoring the previous week to prepare for this lesson, he gave the Gryffindor a chance to answer.

"Mr. Potter, can you explain the difference between an Inferius and... say a ghost?"

The whole class looked around at Harry, "Er... well... ghosts are transparent —" he said with another small smirk.

That was not exactly the answer he had expected from the teen.

"You have nearly six years of magical education and the best you have is, 'Ghosts are transparent'?" Severus made sure to respond in such a way that Harry would know he was being sarcastic and not callous.

Pansy Parkinson let out a high-pitched giggle and several other people - primarily his Slytherins - were snickering.

Harry took a deep breath like he was trying to hold in his laughter, "Yeah, ghosts are transparent, but you just said Inferi are dead bodies. So they'd be solid —"

"A five-year-old could have told us that," sneered Zabini from across the room.

"As I previously said, the Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by

a Dark wizard's spells," Severus loudly explained, trying to reign in the class again. "It is not alive - it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard's bidding. A ghost, as I trust that you are all aware by now, is the imprint of a departed soul left upon the earth... and of course, as Mr. Potter so wisely explained to us, is transparent."

"Well, technically what Potter said is probably the most useful if we're trying to tell them apart," Draco explained, drawing the attention away from Harry's immature response.

Picking up on the tactic, Ron added, "Yeah, when we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're going to be having a shufti to see if it's solid, aren't we? We're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?'"

With the class now mostly agreeing with Harry's distinction between the inferi and ghosts, the level of animosity in the class seemed to dissipate. They managed to make it through with few other distractions and he appropriately assigned an essay outlining the attributes of inferi and dementors with emphasis on how to protect oneself against each dark creature. They would be starting the Patronus charm near the end of November and this would give the students a good foundation to successfully master that complicated spell.

"Mr. Malfoy," Severus called once the bell rang, dismissing class, "please stay after class."

Draco slowed down his collection of notes and Harry looked between the blonde Slytherin and the professor.

"He stays back after almost every class," the former spy heard Hermione whisper to Harry. There was no doubt that the Gryffindor would inquire about it at some later time.

Once the class had emptied with only Draco left, he approached the student's desk and sat down at the one across from him.

"That was not your smartest idea to stand up for Harry in class," he lectured. "You have a role to play, Draco, and you best be careful of how much of your hand you show. Otherwise, the results could be detrimental for you."

"It just came out," the blonde mumbled. "I mean, you have to admit, practically speaking his explanation did make the most sense."

"Regardless, you must watch yourself."

Averting his eyes away, Draco replied, "I understand, professor."

Severus nodded his head, "I require your assistance on the potion Wednesday after dinner. The werewolf hair arrived late last night, and will be ready to add at that point. Please plan accordingly with your school work as we'll likely be brewing until after curfew."

"I will do that, professor."

There was something about the way Draco said it that caused the former spy concern for his protégé. He would have plenty of time during Wednesday's brewing to find out what had been bothering the teen. Between regular classes, work for the Order, Prefect duties, and Quidditch, it was a lot to handle for anyone.

Since Severus would be spending most of the night locked away in his laboratory, he decided to have dinner with Harry Wednesday night. Being halfway through the Gryffindor's first week back to classes, it would be a good point to check-in on how he was handling the transition.

"How has your week been so far?" He asked, getting straight to the point as he collected Harry's evening medications.

"It's been fine. I'm definitely more tired than I thought I'd be," Harry commented appropriately with a yawn, "and before you say you told me so, I already know that fact."

"I was not about to say such a thing," he placed Harry's medications beside his dinner plate before sitting down himself to start eating. "You'll adjust, and at some point, then we can discuss maybe going back to a full-time schedule. Though you'll likely still have some form of tutoring. How have you been handing the magic parts?"

For his own class this morning, he had Harry go through the defense movements with his wand inverted to prevent any accidental usage. It wasn't the best idea and the Gryffindor absolutely hated it, however until they had a better idea about his magic it was the best option they had.

"I've just been doing the same as your class," Harry replied with a frown, "I feel totally daft though."

"It's effective and that's all that matters at the moment," Severus said, ignoring the glare from the teenager. "Have there been any issues with the unintentional magic?"

Harry nodded as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice; a distraction technique that would not come close to working on the professor.

"And?" Severus urged the teen to continue.

"Yesterday I may have accidentally vanished the mess in Herbology from when Ron kicked over the sack of soil for the second years' mandrakes," Harry said sheepishly, "I don't think anyone noticed besides Ron and Hermione though."

It was bound to happen at some point in his classes, however Severus had taken notice how fewer instances there had been of his unintentional magic occurring since he entered phase two.

"And how have things been with the other students?"

"No problems at all, sir," the young wizard said while staring down at his plate. It was clearly a lie. "It's nothing I can't handle. Please don't get involved."

"I shall not," the professor promised. Then, deciding to take another approach he asked, "I take it you've heard about the Gryffindor versus Slytherin game on Saturday?"

"Yeah I have," Harry lifted his head in confusion.

"Are you not interested in attending?"

Severus had wondered when the teen would ask him to go since he'd heard the D.A. members telling him about it in his classroom Monday morning. He was a touch concerned that the request had not been made yet.

"I am," Harry said, sadly, "it's just after last time, I don't know if I'm ready to be around everyone yet. It's different in the corridors between my two classes or the library... I'm not even eating in the Great Hall yet... then to be around everyone, it just seems too much."

It was logical and Severus was well aware that there was a fine line between pushing Harry into something that would legitimately make him uncomfortable and encouraging him not to allow his anxiety to take control of the situation. Honestly, the professor had no idea how to handle the situation now presented in front of him. In the end, he briefly closed his eyes and tried to think what he would tell the other Harry if he'd been in a similar situation.

"That's a fair assessment," he validated the Gryffindor's concern, "and you don't have to go if you don't feel comfortable, however please consider this, you'll be surrounded by your friends which is something you do need right now. You don't have to make the decision today and once you do decide, you can change your mind a dozen times before Saturday. Please try not to let your anxiety from the last time take over and keep you away from something you will legitimately enjoy."

He could tell he had said something in that small speech that struck a chord with Harry. His eyes flashed with fear and then calmed as he nodded his head.

"Thank you, Severus. I'll let you know."

A piece of parchment popped up in front of Severus's face announcing the arrival of Draco to continue on their potion work. He stood and took his almost empty plate to the sink noticing that Harry had hardly touched his food.

"Finish your dinner and take your medicine, then go and get some rest," he said to the teen at the table. "I'm needed in my potions lab tonight, but if you need me please do not hesitate to interrupt. Or at least use the sphere."

"I'll be fine Severus," Harry rolled his eyes in the most frustrating manner before he narrowed them. "Good luck with Malfoy tonight."

"Now we add the werewolf hair," Severus said two hours into brewing - more for his own good than for Draco's - as he carefully added the hairs one at a time. The last thing he wanted to do was have to start over because he put the hair in too quickly, "and stir clockwise for half a turn."

The potion went from a murky green to a bright blue, the exact hue that was needed to complete this stage, and the professor left out the breath he'd been holding.

"Did you request extra hairs just in case we botch this one?" The blonde asked rather harshly.

What is with the teenage attitudes tonight?

"Of course I did," he said carefully to manage his own rising temper, "if need be we can repeat this potion another four times, however I do hope that will not be required, especially because our limiting reagent is not, in fact, the werewolf hair, but the Chimera Scales. Which by the way, we will be going to secure the Scales a week from today."

"And what exactly is my role in all of that?" The blonde asked furrowing his brows.

"If all goes well, your presence will suffice," the former spy explained, "I'm still working the minute details, but I'll be the one actually making the deal under the guise of Polyjuice Potion. You're needed to make the introduction as Matthew typically does not sell to people he does not personally know."

"Could you have picked a dodgier bloke to buy this from?" Draco skeptically asked. "He's like the Dark Arts version of Fletcher, which I don't see how Dumbledore can put any of your lives in that tosser's hands."

Severus questioned that same thing every time he attended an order meeting. He would never understand why Albus put so much faith in a man as unreliable as Mundungus Fletcher.

"The headmaster has his own reasoning for each person he trusts," Severus replied, "and in my well versed experience, the lesser 'dodgy blokes' generally do not sell restricted ingredients to persons without the appropriate documentation, such as myself."

"That's fair," the teen replied with a shrug, "as long as you know what you're getting into."

"I am well aware at this point," Severus said with a small chuckle. "Though I question how you are aware of such a fact about this particular wizard."

Draco's face flushed at the accusation, but offered no further explanation as to why he would know such a detail about one of his father's former acquaintances. Severus knew, of course, how the blonde had known Matthew from his old reality and he found himself not at all surprised that the teen would know him here.

Given the situation with the Dark Lord's return, he made a mental note for a later time to make sure Draco was not too far down that path, then he placed a stasis spell over the cauldrons and turned to face his Slytherin, "Tell me about this change of career you are considering."

Draco flushed and quickly said, "It's nothing really. I don't even have to change any of my classes, so you don't really need to get involved."

"As your Head of House and advisor, I should know about your career choice so I can best advise you."

At first, Severus could visibly see the hesitation in Draco's demeanor and he refused to give in and change the topic. This was something he should know about all of his O.W.L and N.E.W.T classes.

"I was thinking of..." Draco looked down at the table top and then mumbled in the lowest voice possible, "of a healer."

As a master Occlumens, Severus was able to hold his expression neutral as he considered what he had heard Draco quietly announce. While the teen had made some vast improvements this year in keeping his mind open, a healer required a large amount of empathy that he wasn't sure Draco had in him; at least not yet. It was true that the blonde would not be required to change any of his classes for this newfound career, however there were things Severus could do to help get him where he needed to be emotionally to succeed.

"If I may ask," Severus casually said, "what brought about this change in direction?"

"Well," Draco shifted his weight from one foot to the other and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I was reading through the muggle medical book Granger lent me when I was trying to find out what was wrong with Potter and it just… I don't know... interested me. So I picked out some wizarding books on healing and I think it's something I want to do."

"Let's discuss this after the Quidditch match on Saturday. By then, I'll have some options for you to consider."

The gratitude in Draco's eyes was something the professor had long given up on in this student. Hopefully he'd be proven wrong and the young wizard would be able to turn himself around and do some good in the world. If Severus could accomplish one thing in his life, it was to prevent as many people as possible from going down the wrong in life as he felt he had done.