~~~~SS~~~

Severus was awoken just before three in the morning by the sphere on his bedside table vibrating and glowing a bright, neon red. It was the brightest alarm he'd seen since the night of the pneumonia causing panic to rise within his chest, taking over where the much needed sleep had previously been occupying. Without thinking of anything besides getting to Harry, he rushed from his own room down the corridor. By now, he could take the extremely short walk - especially at the speed he was currently moving - to Harry's bedroom with his eyes closed, though today he would need his eyes to quickly ascertain what the issue was, and to act accordingly. He knew better than to try to guess what was going on to cause the urgent alarm before he made it to the Gryffindor. Given what he'd been faced with, Harry had to be having a rough couple of days, though he hadn't necessarily acted like it. Instead, the young wizard had been more withdrawn and often was found simply staring at nothing; both of which were now concerning symptoms to the professor.

Severus's heart broke when he entered the bedroom and made his way to the connected lavatory. Harry was laying on the ground, his eyes closed tightly in pain, with sweat gleaning on every inch of his visible skin. He was shivering, from laying on the cold floor while wet from sweating, and though he couldn't see anything from the doorway, the acrid smell of vomit filled the air. The very first thing Severus did given the situation was cast a cleaning spell on Harry's clothing and the floor, quickly followed by a drying spell to help warm the young wizard up.

It didn't surprise him one bit when Harry said he wanted to stop his treatments, they'd gone through this before - several times actually - though it didn't make hearing that statement any easier. He'd simply have to explain again that these were not the type of decisions made when he was feeling as bad as he was; that they would discuss it when he was on the IV of morphine, the medication method that definitely helped the most. It was what Harry said next that filled every inch of his insides with fear.

"I'm destined to die to kill off Voldemort," Harry mumbled while laying across Severus's chest - in an attempt to warm up and prevent him from choking should he vomit again - and he said it with an acceptance that bore down into the professor's core and filled it with fear.

He froze thinking he had to have heard the young wizard incorrectly. But no, Harry repeated the statement, adding in that he knew of Severus's own role with the horcrux situation. How long had Harry known about it? An even bigger question was how had the young wizard even discovered it? But, regardless of how much he wanted those two answers, he couldn't work through those questions right now because Harry was looking up at him completely defeated. He had to be strong and confident - two things he was definitely not feeling at that moment - to work through this unexpected obstacle he'd been thrown.

"Do you think you can get back to your bedroom?" He asked the teen that had gone back to resting his full weight against him. When Severus felt the slow nod of Harry's head, he helped to lift Harry's far too light body from the floor and walk back into his bedroom. He had so many questions to ask the Gryffindor and he simultaneously wanted to lecture him for messing in things far beyond his years. However, that was no way to navigate the delicate balance needed for a conversation like this, so instead he asked, "What do you know about the soul fragment?"

There was a relief that filled Harry's eyes that hadn't been there back in the lavatory. Like the fact that Severus was confirming what he already knew somehow made things easier on the young wizard.

"That I have a piece of him living inside of me," Harry said. "It's what's blocking the rest of my magical core and the only way to get rid of it is by dying."

"But how-"

"I accidentally saw the word Horcrux written in one of your notebooks back in October," the Gryffindor admitted and Severus remembered his misplaced notebook all those months ago. He'd known Harry had somehow gotten into it, but at the time he hadn't considered what the implications of that were, "but it wasn't until... you told me about the block that we… started putting the pieces together."

Harry was struggling to talk through the pain, so Severus summoned the emergency dose of Morphine that Harry was allowed to have for times like this. At some point, they would have to ease his body off the amount of painkillers he was currently on and taking far too often, but he didn't care at this moment. Dr Swanson said he'd know when it was needed, and right now was that time. Of course, the muggle physician had no idea that Severus had watched the other Harry succumb to the same illness; he wasn't unfamiliar with the levels of pain and how to manage them, it was all he could do in that last month of the other Harry's life after all.

"We?" Severus asked, focusing back to the issue at hand now that Harry was on his way to feeling just a little bit better.

"Hermione mostly," Harry explained. "She found it in... a book… about how a horcrux is made, or what it's purpose is."

"There is only one book I could find that had that information and it is currently in my possession."

Harry's face went red, then he sheepishly replied, "It was kind of in our possession for a little while."

He wanted to get angry, the emotion tried to take over, however the teenager laying in the bed in front of him did not need the lecture now. When this was all behind them, he would explain that he had no idea how one accidentally looked into a book that was clearly not his to begin with. It was something he would expect from the Harry of last year; the one who did whatever he wanted because he thought he deserved the knowledge people were keeping - some for good reasons, others not - away from him.

"You're right," he finally validated Harry's suspicion. "You are a Horcrux for a piece of the Dark Lord's soul. It was what I was confirming with the potion last November… his magical signature was present in the black substance you had been vomiting."

Harry's eyes were filled with questions and he started with the most logical, "But if I let the block, the soul piece, die from the chemo, then won't that release the soul fragment from me?"

"Unfortunately no," Severus shook his head gravely, "that would only drain the magic from it, leaving the soul fragment there, but simply magicless."

"So then I have to die, so that he can eventually die."

Just like when Harry had said that statement in the lavatory, the acceptance in the young wizard's voice chilled Severus to the bone. He'd always been honest with Harry, never blatantly lying or attempting to sugar coat anything the teen had been forced to face thus far. Looking over at him now, at his pain filled face, the professor was torn on what to do: did he lie to help the child through another day, or keep his promise to be honest even if it was a truth he wouldn't want to hear - that Severus was working on a solution, but hadn't found it yet?

"No," the former spy said, trying to sound as positive as he didn't feel, "I've found a way to rid it from your body, but it does need to stay in place until your last chemotherapy is completed in order to protect your raw magic beneath it."

Hearing that, the Gryffindor perked up, "Y-you did? You can get it out of me safely?"

"Yes," Severus lied without any hesitation in his voice. "But you need to hold on through this, Harry. I promise you, we will talk about the long term plans with the block and your magic, but this is not the time to go through all of that."

"It's hard," Harry said quietly. He took a deep breath, like he was trying to rebalance himself, "but I trust you."

Those last three words were like daggers to his chest. The lie he'd told would suffice for now, but at some point, the Gryffindor would ask him for the details and he would have nothing to give. Once the plans for Draco's move were in place, it would be the next thing he started focusing on. Severus refused to believe that there wasn't some way to release the fragment from Harry's body. Worse case scenario, if there wasn't a way to do it safely, then he would need to find a way to keep the Dark Lord incapacitated for the rest of Harry's hopefully long life.

I definitely have my work cut out for me.

"You look like shite," Draco told him over breakfast the next morning. "No offense."

Severus had been up with Harry until about half past four that morning and the last thing he wanted to do was teach. The previous week was hard enough, which was why he decided to do Capture the Dragon, but no amount of Invigorating Drafts or plain old coffee was going to get him through his morning class.

"I highly doubt you meant no offense by that statement," he retorted back to the teen, "and watch your language, it's gotten far too foul as of late."

The young Slytherin's eyebrows shot up, "We're in for good class this morning, aren't we? Perhaps I should go thank Potter for whatever he did to keep your Highness up all night?"

"Drop it, Draco," he warned. "And you are right, as a matter fact, you will have a good class today because I'm going to cancel it."

It wasn't Draco's crude comment that solidified his decision to completely cancel the class, it was the need to be here when Dr Swanson came by to set up Harry's chemotherapy that morning. After the young wizard's reaction last night, he thought there was a better than normal chance Harry would refuse the treatment and that was something he could not leave Molly here to attend to alone.

The Malfoy heir stared speechless for a second, "Come off it, you practically never cancel class. Send a substitute, absolutely, but never flat out cancel."

"There's a first time for everything," he pinched the bridge of his nose as he replied. "I expect you to be working on some kind of assignment, in your room, during that time."

"Sure thing," Draco responded, "I'll get right on that."

The professor hadn't waited for Albus to agree or disagree when he firecalled him about his class cancellation. It didn't matter what the headmaster thought: he needed to be home today and that was more important than whatever he planned for the lesson in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

When Dr Swanson arrived - Madam Pomfrey took over the Sunday and Tuesday treatments to help break up the travel the muggle doctor had to do - he walked her through what had happened to Harry in the early morning hours.

"It's not surprising," she said over a cup of tea in the sitting room. Harry was still sleeping and that was more important than starting his treatment on time. He needed as much sleep as he could get so he could make it through the next two days. "This is typically the second hardest part of the regimen, only slightly behind the same two weeks in consolidation and that's primarily because there's a better light at the end of this phase."

"Why would he want to quit now? When he's this close to Maintenance?"

She took another sip of her tea before answering, "One would think that Maintenance would be the holy grail of treatment after all he's gone through, but you're forgetting that it's going to be about another three years of treatments for him after this, and from where he's sitting that can be a daunting amount of time.

"So far, each phase has pushed him in some way and to think that there are still years left until he's free of it, without knowing if those treatments will be like all the others he's done-" she paused for what he could only assume was for dramatic effect, "-it's overwhelming to a lot of patients. Don't be surprised, professor, if he's not nearly as excited to start Maintenance as you might expect or hope he will be."

Of course he hadn't really thought about it all like that, which was why she was the muggle oncologist and not him. In his profession, things made sense - add the beetle eyes too fast and the potion would explode because it wasn't given enough time to break down the outer layers before the next one was added or add them too slow and you lose the cumulative effect from them - his formulations didn't need to adjust mentally to the stimuli around them. The doctor though could say everything correctly and still have a different reaction from each patient depending on his or her personal experience.

"Now the pain he's feeling," she continued, placing the small cup of tea on the table in front of her, "that's mostly his magic and I'm afraid it's so intertwined within him that even the highest dosage of medications won't help to alleviate it. I consulted my brother, discreetly of course, and it's a defense mechanism for the magical core… a way for the witch or wizard to know that something serious is going on and to seek help. Apparently the pain of a magical core dying is one of the most painful events a magical person could experience."

That figured, why couldn't anything be easy for Harry?

"He didn't seem to have this extreme of a reaction during the last phase," the professor explained to the doctor, "but given how much of his magic I'm sure has been eaten away during this phase, it would explain the pain level."

Knowing that Harry had a reserve of magic underneath - that they could speak a little more freely about now given the fact that Harry knew about the soul - he found himself hoping that his magic would die off quickly. When that happened, Harry wouldn't have to put up with the horrible pain anymore and yes, they'd need to find alternate arrangements for him in the castle, but if they could find a place for Dudley here, surely they could make it work for Harry.

Friday, 7 March 1997

Severus was thrilled - a word he rarely used, nevertheless it was the best word to describe his current feelings - that they made it past the last two days of the rough treatment round without any major issues, and that the second to last round of Phase Three started tomorrow. Depending on how Harry's blood counts were before his treatment in the morning, the Gryffindor would be cleared to start his student-led tutoring by next Wednesday and hopefully cleared to leave quarantine by Monday the 17th. At that point, the young wizard would have finished his last treatment of Phase Three and all of this would be behind them. Unfortunately, when he was finally cleared to leave quarantine, he would not be going back to his classes. Last Friday, the night of Harry's latest vision, Severus had gone through the details with Minerva and the Board of Governors weren't budging on their decision that Harry not return to the classroom. That was news he was not looking forward to giving only because he didn't want to have his insistence on continuing school thrown back at him, which Harry would have plenty of right to do even though the professor knew ultimately he wouldn't.

As if the week itself hadn't been difficult enough, his normal meeting with Minerva had been replaced by a very limited Order meeting; one where he was actually requested to bring Draco along. The blonde Slytherin was excited, he could tell even through his stoic exterior and the professor hoped this was good news, otherwise it would be a very rough awakening for the teen.

Since Draco hadn't been to Grimmauld Place before, Severus handed him the required parchment so he could actually see the location. Unlike Harry, Draco was used to magic and living in the magical world, so he didn't react with as much exuberance as Harry did over things like this. Instead, the blonde teen read the paper and simply handed it back to Severus for incineration.

"I'm unsure who will be present at tonight's meeting," the former spy lectured, "so it's best to keep your mouth shut as long as possible. If you say a single idiotic thing that makes me look foolish, you will regret it."

The young wizard audibly gulped, a testament to how nervous he was to show a weakness like that in public. Hopefully, Albus had some news that would ultimately keep Draco safe and tonight would be an easy one on them all.

"Who's back with Harry tonight?" Draco asked before they walked in the door. It had been a hard two weeks for the young Slytherin being forced to adhere to the specific hard quarantine rules and navigating Severus's own declining moods, so this question definitely threw him off.

"Lupin," the professor said with a scowl, "And I swear to Merlin he better keep the peace this time or his next few doses of Wolfsbane might conveniently be late."

"I don't care what they say about Wolfsbane, he's still a werewolf and can't be trusted," the Malfoy heir replied, "and then you leave him with The Chosen One? Bad idea if you ask me."

Looking at his protégé out of the corner of his eye, Severus knew exactly what the young wizard was doing; projecting his lack of comfort in the unknown before him into an emotion he was more familiar with. The professor couldn't help thinking that regardless of how far Draco had come this year, he was still a scared sixteen year old and reverted back to his comfortable arrogance when faced with this level of uncertainty.

They were late walking into the meeting, which Severus didn't mind at all as it meant less chance for idle small talk with people who knew nothing about him, nor cared to know anything about him. Draco was a half stride behind when they walked into the drawing room that was not nearly as loud as normal. Upon his approach, the reason became apparent the instant he saw the table. Albus was standing, as usual, at the head of the table and the only others present were Minerva, Molly and Arthur Weasley, and Bill Weasley; all people who would not try to assault Draco - verbally or otherwise.

This might be an easy meeting after all.

"Welcome, Draco," Albus greeted and gestured for them both to take the two remaining seats at the table. The young Slytherin nodded his head and Severus knew he didn't trust his voice not to betray the anxiety he was feeling inside. "I'm pleased to say we have an update on your future plans."

Relief flooded Severus's body; it was finally here. They had managed to put a plan in place to keep the teenager safe for however long would be needed.

"So where are you shipping me off to?"

Molly's eyes filled with grief as she recognized the true emotion behind the harshly asked question. This was an example of why only the people in this room were chosen to be here. It would be a difficult conversation and having someone like Moody constantly hounding the young wizard would be counterproductive.

"Zanzibar," it was Bill Weasley who spoke up, "it's an island in Tanzania off the coast of Eastern Africa-"

"I know where Zanzibar is," Draco interrupted.

"Getting you as far away from Europe is the best way to keep you safe," Molly added. Severus could see her maternal instincts taking over and she had to resist her urge to physically reach out to the blonde.

"You'll come with Fleur and I under Polyjuice, as a cousin to Fleur," Bill continued. "The plan is to leave straight from Hogwarts on the 22nd, the day everyone leaves for the Easter holiday, using the floo to go to the Burrow, and then a well planned series of apparitions and Port Keys to lead a false trail, before arriving in Zanzibar."

"Has the appropriate muggle identification been arranged?" Albus asked the group at the table.

"They're in progress as we speak and will be ready by the 15th," it was Arthur that spoke up this time. "I'll be delivering them to you myself."

"Perfect," Albus nodded and then turned to Severus, "and the Polyjuice?"

"I have a stock prepared that will work," the former spy reported. He wished they'd given him more notice so he could have made it fresh for an occasion as important as this one. "Simply provide me with the required hair and I will make sure you have enough to get you through a day's travel, plus the first couple of weeks. How long will the Polyjuice be needed?"

"He'll only be spending the first fortnight with Fleur and I, and then Narcissa will arrive, and they'll be moved to a different location on the island," Bill explained. "At that point, the Polyjuice will no longer be necessary."

"Wait a minute," Draco spoke up for the first time since they'd started discussing the plan, "I thought my mother was coming with me?"

"She will be, eventually," Albus responded quickly, "however in order to not have her lead Tom straight to you, she'll be spending the first fortnight in Crete before making her way to you. During those first two weeks, you'll be under the protection of Bill and Fleur."

"And what about my father?"

There was a pregnant pause throughout the room as each adult witch and wizard looked upon each other.

"We hope to have a clearer view of your father's intentions as we get closer to the day of extraction," Albus diplomatically said. "There is every intention to move him along with your mother, however things in the Manor are changing daily and therefore the plan in regards to Lucius's knowledge of it is a little more guarded."

Draco narrowed his eyes as he thought through what that meant. If it were his place to speak, he would say he didn't really understand what was going on either, but the blonde seemed to pick up on it.

"So you're telling me he doesn't know we're going into hiding yet?" He asked incredulously. "But you're going to try to convince him to go with… what after the fact or a couple of days before? And you think that's going to work?"

"I must admit," Albus's blue eyes didn't falter from the criticism, "I was hesitant to trust Narcissa, but it was her recommendation that he know as few of the details up front as possible. You'd be surprised, Draco, what a mother would do to save her child, even if it meant hiding that information from her husband."

Draco shifted in his chair uncomfortably. The professor didn't doubt that he'd never heard such a sentiment said about his mother's love for him. The blonde may have grown up in a house of wealth, but an emotional response like the one he'd been given would not have been something he'd had heard a lot in that household.

The rest of the evening was spent discussing the details of the operation that would be happening in only fifteen days. Minerva and Bill would be responsible for setting up the Fidelius charms on the various locations, both of them alternating acting as the secret keeper for each location, while Arthur would be setting up the illegal Port Keys and arranging Draco's new identity for the muggle authorities. He could tell the young wizard was overwhelmed, much like Harry was each time they discussed a new phase of his treatment, but his pale face remained emotionless.

Later, after they returned back to Hogwarts, he told Draco to meet him in his office so he could see how the teen adjusted to the news as well as he could. First though, he had to stop in and check on Harry.

The Gryffindor's door to his bedroom was slightly ajar as Severus approached it and he could hear Lupin and Harry talking about what sounded like a game of chess. When he'd left earlier this evening, Harry was still feeling the effects from his chemotherapy last Tuesday; most of which was related to the magical core pain. After his conversation with Dr Swanson last Monday, Severus had plans to test Harry's magical levels next week in an attempt to see approximately how much longer he would have to deal with this constant pain. It appeared at least for the time being, the young wizard wasn't in too much distress and was enjoying the time spent with Lupin.

"Ah, Severus," the older Gryffindor called out upon seeing him in the doorway. "Back already?"

It was intended as a nice pleasantry seeing as he'd actually been gone about three hours, far longer than he should have been given the topic they'd discussed tonight.

"Did anything exciting happen here?" Severus asked, ignoring the werewolf's invitation to discuss the meeting.

"Nothing at all," Harry spoke up, though his face told a different story. A quick check of the clock on Harry's desk showed it was almost time for his next dose of pain tablets.

"Let me go get your medicine and set up your nutrients, then I'm needed in my office," he explained for Harry's benefit more than Lupin's.

"I'll stay, if you need me to," the other Gryffindor offered.

Harry's face flushed from embarrassment, "That's alright, Remus, I'm really tired and going to try to sleep. Thanks for coming by tonight though."

Severus saw the dismissal for what it was; Harry didn't want Lupin there while he was setting up the feeding tube. It was something he knew embarrassed the young wizard and therefore he wouldn't push the fact that the two wizards seemed to be having a good time together tonight and that was something Harry desperately needed. Instead, he walked Lupin to the door and then proceeded to set up Harry for the night. Hopefully now that the worst was behind them, his eating would return to normal, but he dared not say that out loud. He would continue to do whatever was necessary to get the young Gryffindor through this and onto bigger and better things. Perhaps a time when they could start thinking about his life after: after chemotherapy, after the cancer was fully gone, after his magic returned - once Severus found a way to remove the soul piece - and after he left Hogwarts and onto his own life, hopefully being able to live without the fear of what tomorrow would bring.

This was destined to be one of those nights where Severus bounced from one teenage issue to the next and once Harry was settled in for the night, with his sphere on the bedside table should he need anything, the former spy walked to his office where he'd left Draco.

His other charge had changed into a set of grey pyjamas and he was sitting in the chair across from his desk reading a book on what looked like Mythology. Before walking in, Severus had taken a minute to gather his thoughts so he could be best prepared for whatever may arise. Severus had never gone into hiding - being held captive in the castle now was as far as he would ever go - but he knew how he would feel in the teen's circumstances and would focus on that to get through the next hour.

"What are your thoughts on the upcoming plans discussed tonight?"

"It's about bloody time," Draco commented in a way that told the professor he was nervous, but trying not to be. "But I can think of plenty of dreadful places to spend an indeterminate amount of time in hiding, and laying on a white sand beach definitely isn't one of them."

"You'll be living in a muggle village," Severus pointed out, unsure if that had been made clear at the meeting, "and therefore while you'll have your wand for emergencies, you will not be able to to use magic."

"Then it's a good thing I don't need magic to swim."

The message he was hearing was crystal clear and they would need to further discuss both the plan itself, what to expect in his years in hiding, as well as his feelings behind it. This would be a difficult fifteen days for all of them as the day of the Easter holiday approached and the professor could already foresee the conflict resulting from Draco's attempt to process emotions he didn't even know existed inside of him.

~~~~HP~~~~

That morning's chemotherapy wasn't nearly as bad as the previous ones, but it still left Harry with the pain - albeit not nearly as extreme - from his Magical core. This was a time he wished Alton was still his healer because the other wizard might have had some better insight over what to expect in that regard which Dr Swanson couldn't even begin to comprehend. His muggle doctor had been overseeing his care for longer than Alton had, however Harry still had a hard time making a connection with her. All she really did was get his medications started and explain the next steps. For any of his specific questions, he asked Snape and the professor would find out for him.

Today's chemotherapy was one hour of the medication he'd been getting regularly - Vincristine - and would continue to get all the way through the end of Maintenance, plus three hours of a new medication; all of which ended about two hours ago. The best part of the day was that Dr Swanson had said that by Wednesday he was allowed to come out of hard quarantine which meant that he'd be allowed to restart his tutoring. He struggled with his feelings on that topic because by missing as much as he already had, the Gryffindor knew he would never be able to catch up; a point that was pretty moot anyway due to his lack of grades in his subjects. No matter his thoughts on the topic at hand, he already knew Snape's opinion and he didn't want to cause any issues about it. So instead, he took advantage of his ability to move around a little and decided to work on his assignments as much as possible in the sitting room.

"Decided to finally emerge from your cave?" Draco called out at him from behind. Harry didn't even lift his head from his Charms assignment at that remark.

"Do you even know how to start a conversation without insulting someone?"

"Touchy this afternoon, aren't we?" the Slytherin said, sitting down in his typical armchair in an exaggerated manner, "I was just going based off all the other Saturdays you've had treatments and usually you can hardly move."

It was true enough that Harry couldn't argue that fact. Today's double medication hadn't hit him too hard yet, so he was taking advantage of the time he had before he inevitably would be back in his bedroom or the loo. Draco, of course, couldn't understand that.

"Want to help me with my Charms essay? It's the one where we have to decide if turning vinegar into wine is a Charm or Transfiguration and explain why."

Since this assignment was given before his two hell weeks and hard quarantine started, the Gryffindor was positive that Draco knew the right answer - having done this assignment and gotten it marked already - and could provide a little more than "casual help".

"Well," Draco feigned indifference, but Harry knew that tone enough from Hermione to know he was about to get a lesson that should help him out, "what do you think it is?"

Harry rolled his eyes. That wasn't much help at all. "I think that since Professor Flitwick assigned it and not Professor McGonagall, then it's a Charm."

"Merlin," the Malfoy heir replied, "it's amazing you, and Weasley for that matter because he said the same thing in class, managed any N.E.W.T.s with that way of thinking. Then why do you think it should be Transfiguration?"

"That's easy," Harry sat up further on the sofa as he felt himself starting to ache from the lying position, "it's changing one thing into another and that's basic Transfiguration."

"But is it actually changing one thing into another?" The blonde turned his head to the side inquisitively in an effort to get Harry to think about the statement he'd just made.

Obviously based on Draco's question and the tone of his voice, Harry had been wrong but he didn't exactly know why. Growing up, he learned quickly to read between the lines of what was said and what wasn't. What Draco didn't say, but implied, was that it was a Charm and not Transfiguration.

"Erm… no?"

The teenager across from him threw his hands up in the air in frustration, "Harry, this is the perfect example of our three major classes working together. It's quite amazing actually. Do you know what vinegar is made from?"

This sounded like they were switching to Potions, which made no sense to the Gryffindor because the question had nothing to do with that class, just Transfiguration… or Charms.

The blank stare on his face must have said all he needed to because Draco shook his head disappointedly and said, "If you don't even know that, there's no way you're going to write a correct essay convincingly enough to make Professor Flitwick believe you actually knew the answer."

"I can always tell him I looked it up in the library?"

"Then I suggest," Snape loudly said from the entryway, "that you start with finding a text on the production of vinegar." Harry's face flushed when the professor walked into the sitting room and prominently sat into his armchair. "Though perhaps Draco's assistance is merely his repayment for listing your defensive strategies on his own Capture the Dragon essay."

It was Draco's turn to flush at the slight reprimanding statement.

"Draco," Snape softened his voice in a way that told Harry he wasn't going to like what was coming up, "can you give Harry and I a moment alone?"

"You could go into your office, you know?" Draco suggested.

It wasn't the smartest reply, but whatever news Snape was about to deliver must have been bad enough that the man didn't seem to care. He simply shook his head and pointed to the younger Slytherin's bedroom without muttering another word. Draco collected some of his papers from the table between the three wizards and made his way back to his room whispering "good luck" to Harry as he passed by the sofa.

"Is everything alright, Severus?" Harry asked once they were alone.

"How are you feeling today?"

We're back to answering a question with a question…

"Erm," Harry wasn't sure how to answer, "better than last week, but not as good as the beginning of Phase Three."

"And your pain and nausea?" Snape's eyes were filled with a concern that Harry hadn't noticed had become a constant in them for the past month.

"Pain's about a six or seven," the young wizard said, using the scale Dr Swanson introduced to help gauge how the pain medications were working, "nausea is at about a five… and climbing."

Apparently those levels were satisfactory for the professor to continue with the news he had, "Harry, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"That part was obvious."

Another testament to his level of distraction, Snape merely took a deep breath ignoring the bit of insolence in Harry's reply.

"I'm afraid you won't be returning to classes when Phase Three is completed at the end of the month," Snape carefully said.

"Of course not, it'll be Easter holiday," Harry joked, but he knew what the professor meant. Changing his tone to a more serious one, he added. "I kind of figured that, sir. There's no point to being in class when I'm so far behind."

"You have the right to be though," Snape responded with a hint of anger in his voice that told Harry that Snape and Professor McGonagall probably fought hard for him to be allowed back. "Unfortunately, our appeals have been denied."

"So it's official," Harry sadly said, "I'm not moving on next year."

"You already knew you wouldn't be."

It was a truth that was hard to swallow. Yes, he'd read that most Leukemia patients had to repeat their first chemotherapy year, however almost all of those that he read about didn't go to a special school and ended up losing the defining characteristic of that school; they simply were allowed to restart once they felt more normal sometime during Maintenance. Most of them didn't have to worry about waiting to remove a piece of a dark wizard's soul to hopefully gain back their magic. It would be at least three years until Snape could do whatever that process entailed and he could start back - from square one! - on retraining his magic. Three long years of having no idea what he would be doing in the meantime.

"So what am I going to do while everyone else is in class?" He asked the sensible follow-up question.

"I will find a way to keep you as up to date on your coursework as possible," Snape sat back in his chair giving Harry the impression that he had some ideas that the young wizard probably wouldn't like.

Harry nodded. What else could he really do? He'd been asking - practically begging - to quit his classes, but it felt different being told he couldn't go back. The choice had been ripped from his own hands and that made the situation feel infinitely worse.

"Next week," Snape continued, "once you're recovered from this round of chemotherapy, I'd like to test your magic again."

Let's add insult to injury here.

"To see how much I've lost." It wasn't a question, they both knew this time his magic was really dying. It was what they wanted, but again it just felt wrong to him to say it. His instincts wanted to fight to keep it, except he chose to fight to stay alive instead; otherwise he would have chosen the potions route all those months ago.

"Ok," the Gryffindor lifted his head a little higher so when he looked back on this defining moment he would be proud of his reaction to the news. "Just let me know when and what to do."

A companionable silence fell over the pair of wizards, and Harry went to start back on his Charms essay before thinking twice and picked up his sketchbook instead. As if understanding that Harry needed some time alone to process the information he'd been told, the professor stood and walked towards his office door.

"Oh, and Harry?" Snape called over his shoulder right before closing his office door, "Vinegar is made from ethanol, which is an alcohol such as wine."

It's a reverting Charm, so we're not transfiguring it into something new!