~~~~HP~~~~

Saturday, 14 December, 1996

If someone had told Harry how quickly the three weeks would go by with the feeding tube in place, he would have bet most of his vault against them, and he would have lost. Things had been going so well, in fact, that he even started eating his meals back in the Great Hall last week, at least most of the days. Between his extra energy, the thoughts of getting to use his magic again in phase three next month, and planning for his first real Christmas Holiday, the days flew by and it was suddenly the week before the end of term and he would most likely be getting the tube removed in only three days.

Today though, he was forced to miss the second Quidditch match of the season - Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff - because of chemotherapy. That in itself wasn't a problem, but as he laid on the sofa in his pyjamas, the last thing he expected was Draco Malfoy to come through the floo after Madam Pomfrey.

"What's he doing here again?" Harry asked in a more confrontational manner than he anticipated. While he'd gotten used to Draco hanging around, it didn't necessarily mean he wanted the Slytherin helping with his chemotherapy. And yet, when Madam Pomfrey asked last time if he'd be alright with Draco "shadowing" her, he clearly hadn't thought that meant helping draw his blood from his port.

"Given that we have the opportunity," Madam Pomfrey explained, "I thought it'd be good for Mr. Malfoy to see the muggle side of healing. If you're uncomfortable, I can have him wait in the hospital wing."

Harry's emerald eyes met Draco's grey ones, and the Gryffindor had a flashback to the potion explosion. While Draco hadn't been seriously injured, he still felt guilty about him being placed in that situation to begin with.

"It's alright," Harry answered and leaned back on the sofa, so the medi-witch could go through the steps to flush out the port and collect his blood to test.

The Gryffindor was hardly embarrassed anymore over his treatments and side effects, and if he really thought about it, he didn't really care that Draco was helping out. So then why did he feel so conflicted with it inside? The thought of Draco Malfoy as a healer was one thing, but witnessing it - especially using muggle methods - was beyond strange. Harry listened to Madam Pomfrey explain not only the procedure for each step, but also the rationale behind it, all the while Draco was paying close attention to what he was doing and even taking notes in the small book of parchment he had. Harry thought back to those early blood draws before the port was in place and he shivered imagining the likes of Draco Malfoy trying to use a syringe to collect blood from his veins.

"Did that hurt?" The blonde teen uncharacteristically asked in response to Harry's sudden movement.

"Oh. No, no it didn't," he reassured Draco. "I was just thinking of something."

Draco turned back to finish focusing on collecting his blood, and stood proudly when he'd accomplished it, handing the phials back to the medi-witch to take to Dr. Swanson. As always, before leaving, Madam Pomfrey set up his IV of the antiemetic so that it could drip while he waited for his tests, leaving Draco in his sitting room.

"You didn't want to go to the game today?" Harry asked to fill the painful silence between them.

"Actually, I'll be working at it with Madam Pomfrey instead," the Slytherin replied, sitting down on the sofa next to Harry. He seemed nervous over something, and Harry had the suspicion it wasn't helping to heal his fellow classmates. "Guess I'll get a better idea of what happens on the other side of the injuries for once."

The Gryffindor has had his fair share of Quidditch injuries over the years, and while he wouldn't necessarily turn down anyone who was there to help, all he could think about was when Lockhart attempted to fix his broken arm. That was one injury he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.

"As long as you don't do anything like Lockhart did to my arm," Harry said with a smirk, "you'll be just fine."

"It's amazing you can actually laugh at that now," Draco huffed more upset about it than Harry was. "My mother had to use Skele-Grow on me once. It was an absolutely dreadful experience, and I was only growing a toe back."

"Oh!" Harry sarcastically called out, "So that's why you walk all crooked."

"I do not," The Malfoy heir responded indignantly. He then motioned to Harry's IV and asked, "How long does this take anyway?"

"Less than an hour," Harry answered with a frown. He'd honestly gotten so used to this all, he hardly noticed most of it anymore. "Might as well get comfortable if you're going to be here to set up the chemotherapy."

"I think that's the plan." Draco was peering around the room, looking everywhere except at Harry. He looked guiltily over something. "What do you usually do while you wait? During the chemotherapy?"

Harry was curious where the other teen was taking this. While he didn't believe the newest spy was working against him anymore, he was still wary of his motives in the end.

"Depends," Harry shrugged, "for a short treatment like today, I'll probably try to do some studying for exams next week, but when I used to have the longer ones I would get sick pretty early on in the process and I couldn't focus on school work or reading. Those times, I'd try playing games or sketch, just about anything to keep my mind off of it."

He didn't know why the boy sitting next to him wanted to know this stuff, and before he could even ask him, Draco showed what had been weighing on his mind.

"You've been friends with Hermione for a while now," Draco eventually said in a deep questioning sort of way.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, "Yeah, you could say that. Six years is a long time to know someone."

"So then… do you have any idea what I should get her for Christmas?"

He'd said it so quietly, Harry almost didn't hear him, but once he comprehended, Harry practically choked on his own saliva. It was lucky he wasn't drinking or eating anything at the time, otherwise he was sure he would have choked. So all of this had seriously been because he didn't know what to get his girlfriend for Christmas?

He turned his head inquisitively at the Slytherin as if he was seeing the teen in a new light for the first time. Something about his face must have made Draco feel vulnerable because his face started to flush.

"I don't want to get her a book," Draco continued, filling in the silence from Harry's non-existent answer, "I'm guessing everyone gets her that."

"She likes books," Harry justified having gotten his friend a book this year, "this is the person who gave both Ron and me homework planners. Just think about that."

"For you two?" The blonde's eyebrows were raised as he looked Harry over, "that's a perfectly acceptable gift."

As much as it pained him to admit it, Hermione and Draco really were perfect for each other… if one didn't look at the whole family blood supremacy issue too closely.

"I really can't help you, Draco," Harry finally told the other boy. "I've never had a girlfriend, so I don't even know where to start."

"Is jewelry too forward?"

Apparently, Draco wasn't done with the topic, regardless of how uncomfortable it made Harry.

"Erm," Harry stalled, "maybe? I guess it depends on what kind."

"What about a necklace?" He asked, but then shook his head, "No, you guys always end up in some kind of trouble every year and with my luck the thing would strangle her."

Now Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing at the pure ridiculousness of this conversation. If this was what having a girlfriend would do to his mind, he didn't want one. He was having a hard enough time keeping his own thoughts straight without adding his hormones messing with it even further.

"Maybe a bracelet is a better idea," he suggested, completely uninterested.

To that, the Slytherin's eyes lit up as he was going through in his mind what to get for his new girlfriend's first Christmas present.

Guess I know more about this stuff than I thought.

Thankfully, Harry was saved from hearing anymore about it because Madam Pomfrey and Dr. Swanson came through the floo to start his chemotherapy. Harry then spent the rest of the day nursing the side effects from his medication, while Draco went to his first Quidditch match shadowing alongside the medi-witch.

Having had chemotherapy yesterday - causing him to miss Ravenclaw defeat Hufflepuff in the Quidditch match - meant just like all the other students, Harry was using the last day before the start of exams to get as much studying done as possible. Deciding to work through the last remaining nausea, he was studying in the library with Ron, Lavender, Hermione, and Draco. They'd been here since after breakfast as part of Hermione's thorough study schedule, stopping only to go lunch, and then immediately returning to their copious notes; mostly thanks to Hermione and Draco.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, gladly drawing everyone's attention away from studying, "have you decided who you're taking to Slughorn's party?"

"That's right," Ron gave a small laugh, as if he could have forgotten about it, "you have your elite party coming up."

One of the other reasons Harry had determined the last three weeks had seemed easier, was that some time within them Ron and Hermione managed to come to a truce about their respective choice of partners. Harry got the impression Ron had just been jealous of the whole thing, however as with the Yule Ball, he had no one to blame but himself. Now though, everyone - and their hormones - had calmed down enough to focus on the task in front of them: their upcoming exams and, for Harry, finding someone to ask to Slughorn's party.

He tried to get out of it, that was his first idea. Without chemotherapy that day or the day before, he really couldn't find a solid reason not to go besides the simple fact that he didn't want to, and in the end Severus told him to think like a Slytherin; that being part of the Slug Club could potentially open doors for him. Harry doubted that and resisted the urge to tell his mentor that if being the Boy-Who-Lived didn't open the doors, Slughorn probably wouldn't either. Now the party was Friday night, giving him a whole five days to find someone to ask.

"I was thinking of going alone," Harry lied. There was no way he was going to go alone and be surrounded by a bunch of teenage couples.

"You can't go alone, you'll look pathetic," Draco said, as if just the thought of the idea insulted him. "Besides, it's bad etiquette to attend these types of affairs by yourself."

Harry ignored the Slytherin, who he knew would be there as Hermione's date; likely telling him every chance he got, everything Harry was doing wrong.

"What about Ginny?" He asked Ron. "She's in this club, who's she going with?"

"No idea," Ron said, giving his head a slow shake. "She's got a date though, just refuses to tell me who it is. I get the feeling she doesn't trust me not to have some words with him beforehand."

Harry could understand that. Ginny was practically his younger sister too, and the thought of her dating anyone didn't feel right to him. Which still left him having no idea who to ask.

"Maybe I just won't go," Harry said out loud while mindlessly going through his notes, "I'm sure if I tell Severus I'm not feeling well, he won't think twice about making me go."

"If you tell Severus you're sick," Draco started, "you won't be doing anything until next year."

He had a point, even if Harry hated to admit it. It really wasn't fair to put Snape through that worry when the man had a lot going on already.

With the potion completed last month, and Snape had recovered from the explosion - the professor never actually told anyone what exactly was in the concoction - things between them had settled down a lot. It was like a giant unknown was lifted from between the two of them, now that they could speak freely about Harry's magic. Though the young wizard still hadn't told Snape about his knowledge of the soul piece, it still allowed him to make the decision to preserve Harry's "second core", and that alone released an anxiety Harry had been constantly carrying around with him. Overall, these last three weeks had been some of the best for the young wizard and he was dreading to see them end.

"I'll find someone to ask," he finally conceded, "I still have, what… three or four days?"

The whole group started to laugh and Harry wasn't exactly sure why, but blamed it on being completely stir crazy after spending so much time in the library studying.

"I can't believe that term is almost over," Lavender pouted and Harry felt his stomach roiling. She'd been complaining about leaving Won-Won since Mrs. Weasley very animatedly told the other Gryffindor wizard he could not go with her to France. "How can we not be spending our first Christmas together?"

"We won't be either," Draco spoke up. Harry didn't miss the Slytherin placing his right hand on top of Hermione's left.

"But you guys at least have that Christmas party," Lavender explained, "it'll give you some kind of celebratory event before you exchange your gifts."

This time, Harry didn't hold back the eye roll when the teenage girl sang the last three words in a high pitched tune. When he looked across the table, Draco made eye contact and both boys smirked, remembering the conversation they'd had only yesterday about this very subject. To Harry though it served as an awful reminder of how far behind he was in preparing for the holidays. While he'd managed to get all his friends', the Weasley's, and Lupin's gifts ready and safely stored in his bedroom wardrobe, he was completely clueless what to get for Snape. This was the person who took him in and had been constantly watching over him. No matter what anyone from the outside thought, it was what a parent did and Harry had never purchased a gift for his parent before.

First a date for Slughorn's party and then a gift for Severus, Harry committed to himself for this week. Since it was the last week of term, he didn't have any tutoring and didn't need to do the practical tests, so he had plenty of time to dedicate to those two endeavors.

"I'm out, guys," Harry finally said about an hour before dinner, as he forcefully closed his books and started packing them away. "I can't retain any more information on Human Transfiguration, dark creatures, or poisonous plants."

"Thank Merlin!" Ron excitedly agreed "I didn't want to be the first to say it. Are you coming to the Great Hall for dinner?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, a small smile on his face, "I think I will."

~~~~SS~~~~

"Can I ask you a question, Severus?" Harry asked him before bed Monday night.

Severus was setting up Harry's potentially last overnight nutrients. The Gryffindor had done an excellent job these last three weeks staying on top of his diet, on top of the overnight nutrients and while he was still far too thin compared to a healthy sixteen year old boy, Severus could tell there had been an improvement. Where it was most evident though, was Harry's attitude. After he'd recovered from the explosion, things with Harry had settled dramatically and the Gryffindor had even started eating in the Great Hall again. Things fell into place and they were living in more of a routine that was broken up every ten days with chemotherapy and even those had been primarily uneventful.

"If it's about your written exam this morning, you need to wait as everyone else for your scores."

"No," the young wizard gave a small wince, signaling to Severus that the nutrients had started. Every single night, Harry had some kind of reaction when they started, "it's kind of personal."

"You can ask," Severus responded, taking a seat at the desk now that he was done setting up Harry for the night, "though, I cannot guarantee I'll answer."

Harry was playing with the hem of his shirt nervously, "Everyone says I need someone to go with me to Slughorn's party. "

Severus tried his hardest not to react, but he doubted he succeeded in it. He was brought back to the memory of Harry asking him about the Yule Ball. How was it possible that there could be similarities such as this between two worlds that could never have coexisted together?

"I happen to disagree," he answered, of course he never attended the Slug Club parties after his and Lily's falling out, so he might not have been the best person to ask. "If you want to go alone, then no one else's opinion should prohibit that."

"Well, I don't want to go alone," Harry started, his face flushing a bit. "I just don't know who I'd want to go with."

Taking another deep breath, the professor decided to go with the same advice he'd given Harry in his old reality.

"Harry," he started, "ask someone who you'd have a good time with. Not someone you have to impress, just somebody who, at the end of the night, you could say you had fun. You deserve to have a carefree night."

The teen in front of him nodded his head several times, "I'm probably overthinking it."

"You most definitely are."

"Who did you go with?" Harry asked before settling back in his bed. "Being one of the youngest Potion's Masters in the UK, I imagine you were in the Slug Club."

"The youngest," Severus corrected. "And yes, I was in the club, however I only attended one Christmas Party in my fifth year."

"And who did you go with?"

Severus paused as he thought about how to answer that very pointed question. There was no other way to interpret what was asked.

"Technically I went alone," he answered carefully, "however-"

"So I can go alone!" Harry interrupted, "Draco said it's bad form."

The professor shook his head. He never asked what triggered Harry's change of pronoun when referring to the Malfoy heir, but he had noticed it was around the time of the potion accident. It was also around the time Draco and Hermione's relationship became what the students called "official", a move that Severus disagreed with and was keeping a keen eye on given Draco's role with the Dark Lord.

"First, I didn't care much for 'good form' at fifteen," he answered, "and second Lily and I spent most of the night together trying to avoid the people who think like Draco."

"My mum was in the Slug Club? But she was a muggleborn," Harry asked with genuine curiosity.

"Slughorn may have been the Head of Slytherin, but he admitted students he saw potential in regardless of their blood status," Severus explained, "and your mother was a very talented witch. Even Slughorn could see that she would do great things."

The air in the room changed drastically, not unlike if a dementor had entered his quarters and found its way to the Gryffindor's bedroom. Harry had gone from light and open to dark and closed in a second, thinking of what his mother could have accomplished had she not sacrificed herself to save him.

"She didn't have to die," Harry looked down at his hands, too uncomfortable to make eye contact. "She could have stepped aside like he told her too and let me die."

Severus's throat felt like it was closing up. He had known this when he learned about what Harry heard when a dementor got near him, but this was getting too close to a conversation he wasn't ready to have with the young wizard. Now that he'd had the experience of being a father, he can't believe he thought Lily would stand aside and watch her child get killed. Now if presented in the same situation, Severus wouldn't think twice about standing between Harry and the killing curse.

"I did know that, Harry," he said, moving to sit at the foot of Harry's bed. "Your mother wouldn't have been able to truly live her life knowing that she didn't do everything in her power to save her child."

"It's unfair," the Gryffindor mumbled. Harry rarely fell into the despair of the injustice of his life, but when he did there was simply too much that could weigh him down.

"Yes, unfortunately it is," the professor placed his hand on Harry's knee that was covered by a blue bedspread tonight, as Harry's favorite green one had been taken to be cleaned after Saturday's chemotherapy. Severus made a mental note to inquire about it. "Try to get some rest, Harry. Dr. Swanson will be here before our Occlumency lesson tomorrow evening."

"You're going to try an attack, right?" Harry asked, nervously.

"We will be moving forward in your training, but I promise you, it will not feel like an attack."

Harry simply nodded again, though Severus knew by now that the Gryffindor didn't believe him. Harry was likely thinking of how his counterpart ripped through his mind without a single care for what that would feel like for the recipient or even the fact that it wasn't how to effectively teach the skill to begin with. He'd handle readjusting Harry's expectations tomorrow and had high hopes they would come out ahead this time.

"It's been nearly three weeks since your confirmation, Severus," the headmaster lectured from behind his desk.

The agitated defense professor had been called to Albus's office as he was leaving from his last period before heading back to his quarters to meet Dr. Swanson to review Harry's progress and hopefully allow the removal of his feeding tube. Now, he would likely be late to that appointment. For a split second, he considered simply walking out and telling Albus they'd need to discuss this later, however he suspected that would not go over very well for him and since he required the protection of Hogwarts at the present moment he sat across from the elderly wizard listening to his inquiry.

"Exactly," he responded cryptically, "it's been only three weeks, and Harry still has three years left of chemotherapy, almost to the day if my calculations are correct. What good does spending my time researching how to release the soul now when you very well know Harry has chosen to protect it?"

"Harry does not understand the implications of that decision," Albus answered and to his credit he did seem a little upset at the idea of Harry needing to die unless someone - most likely Severus - found an alternative solution to removing the soul from within Harry without killing him.

"He does not need to understand the implications beyond how they relate to his own situation," the younger professor spat back. "Right now all he needs to know is that something is blocking his magic and that block can provide him the chance to walk away in the magical world. Beyond that, I don't give a damn about the prophesy or his supposed role in it. You'll need to find yourself another martyr."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, my boy," the headmaster leaned over his desk, his blue eyes searching into Severus's black ones. "We both have the same goals, to do what's best for Harry and defeat Lord Voldemort."

"Yes, however I believe our priority of those goals couldn't be further apart," at first, that was as close as Severus was comfortable getting to telling his employer exactly how he felt, yet after a pause to consider it further, he added, "I will do anything in my power to protect Harry, even if it means leaving the Hogwarts boundaries. Do not test me, Albus."

That certainly caught the elderly wizard's attention, and he stood to walk around his desk. Albus held his hands behind his back as he paced away from his defense professor, considering the passive threat he'd just been given. Obviously, he hadn't expected it to come down to this, nonetheless Severus wouldn't back down.

"You have no authority to remove Harry from school grounds," Albus spoke over his shoulder, not giving the dark-haired professor the courtesy of eye contact. "Furthermore, it's in his best interest to stay within the wards."

If Albus thought he was fooling anyone with that last point, Severus wasn't going to allow it. He slammed his fist on the large, solid wood desk so hard the trinkets rattled across it and the portraits of the past headmasters startled.

"Who do you think you're talking to?!" Severus stood to face the man who was the closest person he'd ever had to a father. At that moment, the younger wizard didn't care, nor did he care about whatever respect Albus thought he deserved. "We both know what went on in that house you left him in! Was that in his best interest as well?! You seem to forget that where I'm from, Harry was perfectly safe in my care, in my home, and the Dark Lord did not come back." The last four words were said with so much anger, his normally pale face was bright red.

"If you ask me," Severus continued, "I'd say you screwed over this world by leaving him where 'he was protected'. What he needed was a home where he could be respected and where he felt he had someone whom he could depend on and trust. Only then did we successfully keep Voldemort from returning!"

If it weren't for the murmuring of the portraits around them, the air around them would have been so silent, Severus was sure his heart beating on the underside of his chest would have sounded like a drum. The two wizards were standing across the room from one another, neither willing to concede to the other's point of view.

"You're forgetting, Severus," Albus eventually broke the silence with these words, his voice layered in grief, "Harry did not survive in your other reality."

It was like a knife going straight through his heart. He never needed to be reminded of that fact, and yet somehow having the words spoken out loud to him was jarring.

"If you hadn't shown up here," Albus continued, walking slowly towards the professor, "Harry likely would not have started his treatments in time, to be as successful as they've been, due to his negligent relatives. And when he died, the soul particle would have been released allowing Voldemort to perish from the very same disease."

If Albus thought he'd never gone through that scenario, he was completely wrong. Severus thought about it all of the time; he didn't need the reminder of the uphill battle they were facing.

"I will find a way to rid him of that soul fragment, Albus," he finally said with his jaw clenched tight. "But when I do, I will not remove it until he has finished chemotherapy. If you don't like that, then you can have my resignation."

It was a threat that he hoped the headmaster would challenge him on. They both knew that it wasn't his exceptional teaching that kept him on staff year after year. Until this summer, it was his acceptance to walk back into the line of danger as a spy for the Order, and now it was Harry. If he left, Albus knew the young Gryffindor wouldn't think twice to voluntarily go with. The headmaster may have been right that Severus had no legal rights to remove Harry, nevertheless the former spy knew enough to hide completely undetected until Harry was seventeen. And if they were discovered before then, he had no doubt that Minerva - as Harry's guardian - would stand by his side.

"We're done here," the defense professor said. He pushed his way past his employer and through the door, not at all looking back, even when he heard Albus say just as the door behind him was closing, "the arrangements have been made for next week"; he had somewhere more important to be.

The walk down back to the dungeons helped Severus clear his mind just enough to handle whatever was waiting for him on the other side of the door. There was no way Madam Pomfrey and Dr. Swanson weren't there yet, so it was more if they'd started the evaluation of Harry's weight and nutrition and what that outcome was. Upon opening his door and making his short way to the sitting room, he had his answer almost immediately.

"Look, Severus," Harry called out, "I'm tube free!"

Finally something was going their way, and this would definitely be a good start to the next step of their Occlumency lesson tonight.

"This is going to be a little different than our normal lessons," Severus told Harry while they were sitting on the floor again, drinking the Valerian tea to help Harry relax. The Gryffindor hadn't needed the tea and ambiance during their previous lessons, but the professor wanted to be sure their first Legilimency attempt was as different from last year as possible and this was the best way to do that.

He'd had the idea of helping Harry build and test his canopy walls before attempting the attack, so after depositing the memories Harry absolutely did not want to relive, they were sitting across from each other, cross legged with their knees touching.

"How has your practice in clearing your mind gone recently?"

Harry was surprisingly very relaxed - especially considering he knew what was coming - which was a great testament to how the young Gryffindor was doing with not only Occlumency, but also to the adjustments in his life, in general.

"Now I can pretty much pull up the forest at any time," Harry started, sipping his tea at odd intervals. "I've been working on putting as much distance between myself flying and the top of the forest canopy, and trying to make the canopy as strong as I can. Most of the time it works, but every so often there's a hole in the top, and I just have to focus a little harder to close it."

Harry was really making impeccable progress. The fact that he could identify the holes in his defense was the first step in ultimately protecting what he'll be hiding underneath it. Based on what he'd been hearing, this would be an extremely easy lesson and then they could move onto pushing out an attack.

"As I mentioned," the professor continued, "I'd like to take a completely different approach to start, and instead of me strictly testing you, I'm going to show you how to place your emotions and memories under your canopy."

Harry didn't try to hide his confusion, "How do you do that?"

"To start, you should not defend yourself when I enter your mind," Severus said carefully, not wanting to scare the young wizard. "This time, you'll accept the invasion instead of attempting to push me out."

"You do know that goes against every single thing that you ever told me last year," Harry questioned, with a layer of frustration in his voice.

"I am aware of that," he answered, hoping to convey to Harry how much he detested how his counterpart handled their Occlumency. There was no excuse for what he'd seen in those memories. "And we can both agree that last year did not work. So let's try it this way."

Harry took a deep breath, "Ok, what do I do?"

With the leap of trust Harry had just given, Severus could not hold back his smile. Of everything they've overcome since Severus knocked on his door back in July, this was by far the biggest sentiment.

"You don't have to do anything," the professor said, placing his hands on Harry's knees directly in front of him. "Simply close your eyes and relax when you feel the presence of my mind against yours. Get your canopy in place and nod when you are ready. I will not hurt you."

It took almost five minutes, but once Harry nodded, Severus silently cast Legilimens and felt himself slowly enter Harry's mind.

He could see the bright blue sky all around him and a small speckle of deep green below. It seemed that when Harry said he was putting distance between himself and his canopy, he hadn't exaggerated at all. This was good, the young wizard would definitely notice if someone were attempting to enter his canopy if they started at this distance, and it would give him plenty of time to attack.

As Severus lowered himself closer to the forest, he could not find Harry's presence anywhere. Making the decision to take a detour to find Harry - because showing him how this worked would only be beneficial with the young wizard actually there to see it - Severus went off laterally in search of him. The former spy was impressed that it took longer than expected, though it was hard to tell time in the state they were in, but all of this pointed to Harry being well on his way to mastering Occlumency and at a much faster pace than Harry learned even in his old reality.

That should have been a clue that something was wrong. It was most likely a combination of Severus's false sense of security with Harry's progress, and his already distracted mind from the argument with Albus earlier that evening, that the professor did not see the black clouds coming up behind him, or when the attack hit.

Severus was brought into a memory, but it was his memory rather than one of Harry's, which is what he would have expected being within the Gryffindor's mind. He tried to pull up his own Occlumency shields to block out the presence, except no matter how hard he tried, they would not lift. Instantly, he recognized the scene playing out in front of him from the first time he met Lily and he paused at the sight of the girl who would later become an integral part of who he was on so many different levels. This was the day that started the rest of his life:

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Young Severus had jumped out from behind the bushes. A young Petunia shrieked and ran backward toward the swings, but Lily, though clearly startled, remained where she was. A dull flush of color mounted the sallow cheeks of 11-year old Severus as he looked at Lily.

"What's obvious?" asked Lily.

Memory Severus had an air of nervous excitement. With a glance at the distant Petunia, now hovering beside the swings, he lowered his voice and said, "I know what you are."

"What do you mean?"

"You're...you're a witch," whispered memory-Severus.

The scene changed quickly to one from his fourth year:

Memory Severus was sitting next to Lily out in the courtyard, a thick blanket of snow on the ground, they were both innocently snuggled next to one another for warmth wearing their gloves and scarves of green and red, respectively.

"How can you say no, Sev?" Lily asked, tugging on his green Slytherin scarf. "I thought you weren't going home for Christmas anyway?"

"I'm not," he said seriously, it was the first year he had planned not to go home for the Christmas holiday since Lily would be away skiing with her family this year.

"Then why not come with us? Mum said you are more than welcome to," Lily said excitedly as if she already knew she'd won the argument. "We're leaving straight from the train station, so you don't even have to see your dad."

Fourteen year old Severus scowled at the mention of his father. The father and son had a rough summer, by the end of which Severus made certain he was never home whenever his father was, and when he had come back to school he vowed not to go home on any of the breaks this year. The less he could see of Tobias Snape the better.

"Don't you think my mum should know that I'm off skiing? And if I tell her I want to go with your family, she'll guilt me into coming home instead." He explained logically, "I can't even ski, what if I kill myself doing it?"

Lily giggled, which made Severus - both in the memory and outside of it - smile. "Oh, Sev," she patted his arm, "if you don't like it, there's plenty of other things we can do there besides ski."

Severus watched the memory fade and a deep sense of grief surrounded him. He had indeed gone skiing - and actually enjoyed the sport - with the Evans' family that year and he had the best Christmas of his life until Harry was adopted.

Not surprising, another memory started; this one also Christmas - because memories are linked together by subject - during Harry's fifth year.

Memory Severus was walking into the sitting room of their home in Spinner's End where Harry was decorating their Christmas tree. He was carrying a tray with two cups of hot chocolate and some Christmas biscuits Mrs. Weasley had just sent.

"Thanks, Dad," Harry said, grabbing one of the cups and sitting on the sofa.

"It's looking good," the professor said, picking up where Harry left off giving the 15-year old a break.

Harry laughed, "It looks the same as it does every year."

"That's only because you're not nearly as observant as I am," he said tossing an ornament back into the box, then sitting next to his son with his own cup of hot chocolate. "It's statistically impossible to put every ornament in the same exact spot every year."

Harry rolled his eyes, "You know what I meant."

Severus reached over and started messing up Harry's already messy black hair, "Of course I knew what you meant."

Again, a blanket of grief wrapped itself around Severus's shoulders. That had been their last Christmas before the diagnosis. He wondered briefly if Harry could see these; they were still inside his mind, correct?

The memory changed one last time and as expected it had to do with Harry at Christmas time again. Severus tried vigorously to expel himself from the memory, but whomever was attacking him was holding strongly onto this time Harry was 11 and Severus could feel his anxiety rise as the memory started.

He had been patrolling the hallways that night. Each corridor was brightly decorated with wreaths and candles, souring Severus's already dour mood. It had been an exceedingly rough term so far, having to deal with both Quirrell and Potter. While he knew having the Potter spawn as an almost daily reminder of both the worst years of his life and the life he could have been living, was going to be difficult, it was getting to him more than he had ever expected.

The real-Severus remembered this day; would never forget it for however long he managed to live. This was another infamous crossroad that forever changed his life, ripping away and separating the two realities he had known.

The Potion's professor was just about to finish his nightly patrol when he saw Harry slip out from seemingly nowhere. The real-Severus now knew it was James' invisibility cloak Albus had given Harry only a couple of days earlier for Christmas. At the time though, he was desperate to pin anything he could on the Golden Boy-Who-Lived.

"And what brings the Gryffindor prince out of his tower at this time of night?" Memory-Severus asked the young Harry, making it clear that regardless of his answer he would at least be getting detention for wandering the hallways at night; just like his father had.

"Why do you think it's any of your business..." Harry defiantly replied, leaving the lack of "sir" or "professor" hanging disrespectfully between them.

The real Severus could feel the anger rise within his memory-self as he waited to see how this moment would play out. Which reality was he watching? How would this Severus react?

"Don't you dare talk back to me like that, you insolent child," memory-Severus bellowed.

Standing as a spectator, Severus saw it. The look in his memory-self's eyes and he knew what was going to happen; he wasn't going to walk away as he had in this reality. Again, he felt his anger rise, but this time not against the child, but himself. Something good would eventually come out of this moment; like a Phoenix, they would rise from the ashes.

It was like watching a horrific accident, he didn't want to see it but he could not turn away. The 31-year old memory-Severus lifted his arm, losing control of his anger, not for the first time in his life, but definitely the worst. His hand came down towards the small 11-year old, with every intention of hitting him. He came, so close; too close before pulling away at the very last second.

For all the times he'd played this moment back to himself throughout the years, he always saw that horrible look of acceptance within Harry's eyes when he thought he knew what was coming. As if he was not at all surprised that an adult with authority over him would respond to him in violence. This time, viewing the memory from a different point of view, he could see his younger-self's eyes, when he realized he saw himself in the young boy and knew exactly what that implied. Not only had this boy been hit before, but he was so used to it, he had come to accept it.

Finally, as if whatever was driving these memories had found what it was looking for, Severus was released from the hold and opened his eyes to find himself back in his sitting room. He carefully sat up and his stomach fell to the floor when he noticed Harry sitting up furiously staring back at him. His emerald eyes were shifting back and forth as if contemplating the meaning behind all that he had just seen.

"You almost hit me."

Like everything else between them, it wasn't a question. He didn't have to question it, the memory was clear as day.

"Almost," Severus said, once his brain caught up to the situation in front of him, "is the key word. I did not then, nor have I ever hit you."

"But you wanted to," Harry said sadly with a look of betrayal across his face, "I could feel it."

"Yes," the professor quietly admitted, "at first I did, but I'm thankful every single day that I did not."

Time practically stood still as he watched the boy he cared about more than anything in this world digest the information he'd been given. Severus had never been a religious man, but he prayed to whoever would listen that Harry would try to remember the other memories he'd seen as well; of his mother and a small snippet of the life they had managed to build even after the event that caused his paradigm shift.

But no; as with everything else they'd faced so far, nothing could ever come easy and in the span of a couple minutes, the trust they'd built was instantly shattered yet again. Harry stood up on shaky legs and Severus mirrored the Gryffindor wanting more than anything to reach out to the teen.

"Get away from me," Harry whispered, lowering his eyebrows and in one swift and smooth action, ran to his bedroom slamming the door behind him.

Severus's heart broke; it was like the day before the Privet Drive attack all over again, or when Harry had the vision from Draco's initiation. He left the furniture as it was, along the edges of the room as he walked in a daze to his bedroom. As he walked past Harry's bedroom door, he resisted the urge to enter it and check on the teen, but he knew that if they had any chance of walking away from this together, he needed to give the child some space to process what he had learned.