Harry sat down at an empty table while Snape went to grab himself lunch. Harry had declined anything to eat knowing his stomach was too jumbled with nerves to eat. To his surprise, a bowl of chicken soup was placed down in front of him as Snape sat in the seat to his right.

"I said I wasn't hungry," Harry told his professor, not caring that he sounded like a child.

"You need to eat," was all Snape replied, picking up his own sandwich to take a bite.

Easy for you to say, this is probably poisoned...

Against his better judgement, he picked up the spoon and took a sip. The hot soup felt good in his overly empty stomach. Not realizing how hungry he actually was, he started to eat the bowl of soup quickly. The professor and student fell into an uncomfortable silence, neither knowing what to say.

Harry was surprised for the second time in the half-hour by Snape quietly speaking, "I knew your Aunt Petunia from when we were children. We grew up near each other."

It took Harry some time to process what that meant. When he finally did, his eye lit up as he replied, "Then, you had to know my mum." It was not a question.

"Yes," Snape had a blanket of regret over that single word. That single word shattered everything that Harry thought he knew about the professor sitting next to him.

Suddenly, everything that had gone on that day wasn't important; Harry had a million questions he wanted to ask. He'd heard and discovered so much about his dad, but no one really mentioned his mum.

"How well did you know my mum?" instinctively that was the question he started with as he saw the pain in Snape's eyes. Clearly this topic wasn't one he was comfortable talking about which must mean he knew her pretty well.

Snape sighed and looked up at the clock on the far wall of the cafeteria. Harry could tell this was something Snape did not want to discuss, but since he brought it up, he figured it was fair game.

"We used to be very good friends," Snape finally admitted. "We need to get back upstairs, but we can discuss this later."

Harry thought that was completely unfair, "You can't just tell me you were friends with my mum and leave it at that!"

Snape thought about this outburst, secretly happy this was the first time today Harry had had shown some kind of normal emotion. "Fine, you get one question before we go upstairs. Make it a good one."

Harry thought hard about this. If he only got to know one thing about his mother right now, what would it be? He didn't want to pick something trivial, he could find that out later.

"What was she like?" He asked hoping it wasn't too open ended.

Snape sighed. "Let's walk while we talk," he stood as he spoke picking up their lunch dishes and taking them to the drop off window.

"If you ask anyone, they will all tell you Lily was the most kind hearted person you'd ever meet. She genuinely cared about other people. She could see the good in anyone and tried her best to show that person the best in himself.

"She had a temper on her though... Like a firecracker. One minute she's fine and the next she would be up fighting against whatever wrong she thought needed correcting.

"And her capacity for forgiveness was astonishing. Take a look at your aunt for example. No matter how many times Petunia managed to hurt Lily with her cruel words, your mother would always give her another chance. She had her limits though... and once you crossed that line, she wouldn't look back." Snape paused as they waited for the lift to take them back to Healer Smithe's office. "She was intelligent, especially in charms and potions. She had a great laugh; it was infectious... Everyone around her couldn't help but join in when they heard her laughing."

Harry was deep in thought about his mum and what she would have been like if she were still with him. Would she be trying to make him laugh with everything going on today? Or would she be a quiet observer letting him lead the day but ready to jump in if things got bad?

"I thought my mum grew up in the muggle world?" Somehow that was the first question to come to his mind after everything he'd heard. How would Snape have known his mum if she grew up with muggles?

"That's two questions and I said you could ask one," Snape lectured. He already expected this to come up, "Yes, she did grow up in the muggle world, as did I."

Harry stopped walking for a second, trying to process what he'd just heard Snape admit. Somehow it was hard to imagine Snape in a house with electricity and a telly. Actually, if he was honest about what he expected from Snape's house, it would have coffins and potion ingredients everywhere.

"Wait a minute..." Harry called out running to catch up to stop Snape before they entered the office in front of them. "Aren't you a pureblood?"

Turning around, Snape looked Harry in the eyes narrowing them as if he was contemplating if Harry would indeed survive this line of questioning. "That's false," he admitted, "I'm actually a half-blood. Now if you're through we're needed back inside."

He opened the door and half guided, half pushed Harry through the doorway. The young wizard had no way of knowing that he'd reacted exactly as his professor had hoped and had been completely distracted from where they were headed.

Harry was definitely distracted with the large amount of information he had found out about his mum and Snape in such a small amount of time. The more he thought about it, he was growing angry with Snape. How could he have been friends with his mum and not say a single word about it? What kind of person does that to someone orphaned before he was two? Not that he should have expected any different from the man, but this was kind of a big deal.

Not paying attention to where he was going, he ran right into Snape's back. They were outside of Healer Smithe's office.

When did we get back here?

"Sorry sir," he said when Snape whipped around and glared at him. Or at least he assumed it was a glare, on second thought, he didn't seem nearly as annoyed as Harry would have expected.

"Have a good lunch?" Healer Smithe asked, walking up behind Harry and Snape.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled looking down at his trainers.

"Come on in," the healer said, "take a seat and I'll be right there."

Harry walked in as Snape held the door open, removing their glamours in the process, and took a seat in the comfortable red chair on the right side of the desk. Bookshelves covered the walls to his left and right with all sorts of books Harry recognized as both magical and muggle, and certificates were displayed on the wall in front of Harry, behind the healers desk.

His legs were nervously bouncing as the healer walked in and took a seat behind the desk. This was it, there was no going back to ignorant bliss after this.

"First, I want to make sure you're ok with Professor Snape sitting in. It's completely up to what you're comfortable with seeing as I don't know, officially, who your medical proxy will be," his gentle eyes looked into Harry's emerald ones and Harry knew this was going to be bad news.

"Erm... Yeah. That's fine," he wasn't 100% sure of that himself, but he also assumed that Snape would be brewing whatever potions were needed to fix this problem anyway, so it wouldn't really matter in the end.

"Ok, good. Severus, could you close the door? And please sit if you'd be more comfortable," he gestured to the chair on Harry's left. This definitely wasn't going to be good news.

Once the door was closed and Snape sitting he continued, "The blood sample we took this morning showed a high number of lymphoblasts; those are young white blood cells. This can be indicative of a type of cancer called Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. It's a cancer, or more simply put, a set of cells growing at an abnormally high rate, found in the blood. We confirmed this with the bone marrow aspiration and biopsy." He spoke slowly and then waited to make sure the information was processed. He was trying to keep it at the level a 15 year old wizard could understand.

Harry had kept a stoic face, but nodded that he had understood. There was a girl in his 3rd year primary school with cancer, something that was in her brain. While Harry didn't know her well, he did know she didn't come back in their 4th year. He shivered thinking about it. "So, what does this mean for me?"

"It's complicated," Healer Smithe honestly replied, "cancer is very rarely seen in witches and wizards. That's not to say we don't see any cases, it's just most of the time we see them in muggleborns, wizards with weaker magical signatures, or squibs. None of which describe you.

"Either way, we shouldn't necessarily be focusing on the why, but instead on what we're going to do about it. While this type of cancer is aggressive," that definitely didn't sound good to Harry, "it's the most common childhood cancer, and generally responds well to treatment." Finally, some good news... relatively speaking.

When the healer paused, Harry looked up and both men we're looking at him, "Oh, that's good... Right?" He felt the need to ask.

"Absolutely. And as a wizard, you have a couple extra options to choose from-"

"No," Snape interrupted. Harry's head swung around quickly. "Alton, be realistic, the wizarding potions aren't anywhere near where they need to be compared to the muggle treatments for this condition."

Harry looked confused. "Why would I choose one over the other?" He really thought this was a bad time to try to process everything. His head felt extremely fuzzy.

"Don't worry Harry, we'll give you all the information and recommendations to make the best decision going forward, and rest assured you don't need to make any decisions on your own," Healer Smithe's kind eyes relaxed Harry's pounding heart. "There are a couple things we need to schedule to do in the immediate, the first is another test to see if the cancer has spread anywhere like your spinal cord or brain. Like I said, this is an aggressive disease, so we need to cover everything we can. Do you have any questions?" There's that word again, aggressive.

"Um... Well..." Harry had many questions but his thoughts were so jumbled he couldn't put a sentence together. Cancer, seriously? And something so rare for a wizard like him. Why him? First Sirius, then the prophecy, and now this? What was he supposed to think?

"... Harry?"

He was brought back to the present by Snape calling him his given name again. He was suddenly aware that Healer Smithe had been talking to him. "Sorry sir," Harry quickly added. "What did you say?"

"We'll schedule the lumbar test for tomorrow morning, if that's ok," Harry nodded at this, what else was he supposed to do? Who was he to argue with the healer? "And I'd like you to consider the different treatment options available tonight. It's extremely important that we start treatment as soon as possible. It's the best way to beat this." He made eye contact with Harry again. "And you will beat this, ok?"

"Yes sir," was all Harry could say. Have I said anything of importance yet? "So, what are the options? If Professor Snape says potions won't work, then is there really any choice?"

Snape's eyebrows shot up at the acknowledgement of his proper title, probably for the first time ever without malice, followed by a compliment.

Healer Smithe took a long look at Snape and Harry saw a flash of concern pass by both their faces.

"Well, Harry it's not that simple," the healer started delicately. "Like I said, being a wizard makes this a bit more complicated than a muggle.

"The typical muggle treatment is called chemotherapy. It's a set of medications that will kill off the cancer cells, or the cells that are growing too quickly, which are invading your bloodstream. For this type of cancer, when caught early, it has a really good prognosis. About 9 out 10 cases will end up in remission after the first intensive round, which means the cancer cells are no longer present in your blood. You would still need to go through more chemotherapy after that first phase to make sure it stays gone, but like I said the prognosis is very good for full remission."

"But..." Harry prompted. If it was that successful and potions weren't then what was the issue?

"But, the chemotherapy can't target only the cancer cells. In the process of killing the bad ones, some of the good cells get killed too. It can cause some pretty bad side effects, which we can do our best to make as manageable as possible. In a wizard though, the magical core reacts to the killing of the good cells as an attack on the body and it will attempt to use your magic to counteract that process."

"So, my magic would make the chemotherapy less effective?" That seemed logical.

"Not quite," the healer said slowly, "instead the magic may get worn out from fighting against a process it can't stop."

Harry's face was blank for a split second until his brain caught on to what Healer Smithe was describing.

"I could lose my magic?" Harry confirmed.

"It is a possibility, but remember in the times we've seen wizards get any type of cancer, they've been considered to have a 'weak magical signature'. So it's also possible that because their magical core started out on the lower end, it couldn't survive." The healer exhaled hard now that all the information was out in the open.

"I can't risk that!" Harry called out, getting frantic, "I need my magic. You have no idea how much I need it." How was he supposed to fight the darkest wizard of all time without any magic?

"I just want you to consider all pros and cons of both," the healer said. "We can discuss it more tomorrow when you're back for the other test. Then we can figure out the logistics of treatment." Turning to Snape he asked, "Will either his guardians or medical proxy be here tomorrow? I absolutely need one of them to sign off on the treatment plan and schedule."

"I'll message Albus as soon as we're done here to get that completed," Snape said. Harry thought the man was taking all this rather well for basically babysitting someone whom he's hated for the last almost 6 years.

"Ok then," Healer Smithe stood up, "Harry you should rest today, keep off your hip, and I'll see you in the morning."

Harry stood up, his hip protesting from sitting in the chair so long - how long have I been here - and shook Healer Smithe's hand. "Thank you sir, I'll see you tomorrow." Not quite sure this was a thank you moment, but it was polite.

He felt the glamour being placed back on as he was walking out the door with Snape. Harry had nothing to say, but a million thoughts went through his mind. One step at a time... first decision, picking a treatment option of course, like anything else in his life, did he really have an option? He can't be The Chosen One without magic, so that was it.

"Mr. Potter?" Harry heard Snape say.

So we're back to Potter

"Sorry sir, I didn't hear you."

"Are you ready to disapparate?" his professor asked, causing Harry to look around. Not only were they out of the hospital, but they were already at the apparation point.

"Oh, yeah. Let's go." He noticed that Snape was holding a bunch of papers most likely about his condition and treatment.

This time when he landed, Harry couldn't keep his stomach calm and sicked up his lunch right in front of Snape. Doubled over, he expected to hear a snide remark from his professor, but instead Harry felt one strong hand on his shoulder and the other in his back.

Falling to the ground, Harry sat there with his knees drawn, arms resting on top of them, and his head resting on his arms. He felt completely defeated, tired, and sore; he couldn't imagine getting up and facing his relatives after everything that had happened.

He was surprised again when he felt Snape sit down next to him, in the grass of all places. He peered over his arms next to him as he felt Snape's eyes on him.

"Just give me a minute," Harry asked, tucking his head back down. He just really wanted to fall asleep right there on the grass.

"How about this," Snape sounded sympathetic which made Harry angry. "Let's get back to your relatives so we both can be safe, you rest a bit and I'll talk to your aunt. I also need to get in touch with Albus. Is your owl available?"

Harry lifted his head still feeling defeated, "No, I sent Hedwig to the Burrow." He stood up, wiped his jeans off and started walking toward Privet Drive.

"You could probably talk to Mrs. Figg, I'm sure she has a way to contact Dumbledore," Harry called over his shoulder, also checking to see if Snape was following him. Satisfied when he saw the man waking a pace behind he continued, "Seems like he'll talk to everyone but me. He has no problem talking about me to them either. But if I need him, or anyone else, I'm left completely alone!"

By now Harry had made it to the front garden of #4 and had turned around to face his professor yelling. "You tell him that Snape! Just tell him about everything that happened today so he can try to 'manipulate' it all like he does best"

Harry pulled open the front door and stomped inside; Snape barely had the chance to get inside before he slammed the door closed. "Or better yet," Harry continued to yell, "tell him not to worry... Tell him I know exactly what I'm supposed to do and he doesn't have to worry about me messing up his master plan!"

Feeling light headed, he grabbed the railing on the stairs to help hold him upright as he climbed to his bedroom. He didn't notice his aunt enter the room or how Snape was staring at him deeply confused by the teen's outburst.

~~~~SS~~~~

That was expected

Petunia walked into the entrance from the sitting room at the tail end of Harry's rant.

"What is all this-" she started before Severus grabbed her wrist preventing her from running up after her nephew.

"We need to talk," Severus told her in a tone she shouldn't think of disobeying.

Stupidly, Petunia sneered at him, "I don't need to do anything you say, Snape."

He maintained his grasp on her wrist as he dragged her into the kitchen and pushed her into the chair at the table. It was already late afternoon, but the sky had become overcast and threatened rain while he and Harry had been at the hospital, so it was now dark and dreary inside the house.

"I couldn't care less about what you think. Right now, you're going to listen to me or trust me it will be the absolute last thing you do on this Earth," Severus threatened. "We're in an impossible situation. The last place Harry needs to be is under your roof, but even I can admit he needs to stay here for his protection."

"As usual, you're making absolutely no sense," she spat back at him.

Severus glared evilly at her before explaining, "Your nephew just found he is very sick," Severus put the folder he was carrying onto the table and opened it. In the front was a pamphlet which he picked up and tossed to Petunia. He watched her eyes widen as she read the title, "Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia".

"I don't understand..." She started saying and then paused, "we can't..." She tried starting again.

"You don't have to pretend with me Tuney," Severus said with disgust, "we both know you have no intention of doing a single thing to help him, let alone actually take care of him through all this."

"Well, then what do you want," she asked insensitivity.

Severus glared at her, "I need you to give him space. Albus Dumbledore is working on getting him a medical proxy and will be in touch tonight to discuss long-term plans. You can expect me back tonight with him. I'll tell you what you're going to do then."

He stood up to leave as Dudley waddled into the kitchen. He met eyes with Severus, then turned around and left. At least I've managed to scare one person today.

Checking up the stairs to make sure Harry had gone to his room, he walked out the front door prepared to apparate to Hogwarts when his left forearm started to burn.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was excited, more excited then he'd felt in a long time. He was finally going to get exactly what he'd been waiting for. Walking around an extravagant room full of rich furniture, he felt drunk on power as he eyed his faithful servants before him.

"Wormtail, approach," he called out.

"Yes, my Lord," he bowed in front of Harry and kissed the hem of his dark robes.

"Where are we with the summer plan?" He needed this finished once and for all. If only he could get past them.

"It will work my Lord," Wormtail trembled. "I'm getting everything in order as we speak."

"Perfect! When will it be ready?" Things were looking positive for the first time since the Ministry of Magic disaster.

"Within two weeks, my Lord. We'll be ready by then."

"Severus," Harry called out, now ignoring Wormtail. "Where is the boy this summer?"

"With his relatives as always." Severus explained. "I've heard of no plans to move him.

" And he'll be there all summer?" Harry had to know.

"Typically he's spent the last couple weeks before term elsewhere, but nothing has been set for that yet," Severus said bowing before him.

He has been frustrated with Severus's lack of information lately, but as the only person on the inside of Hogwarts, he was a necessity.

"Perfect, that's perfect to hear."

The last thing Harry saw was his reflection in the oriental mirror as he walked by and was surprised at the red eyes staring back at him

Back in the smallest room at #4 Privet Drive, Harry jumped up out of bed. He was still in the same clothes from this morning, laying on top of the thin blanket. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but he still felt exhausted, his head was throbbing with the beat of his heart, and his scar was burning. Taking his hand, he pressed on his scar and felt the familiar trickle of blood coming out of it.

He grabbed the bottom of his shirt to wipe the blood from his forehead. Not the best option, but it was better than nothing. Seeing the bloodstains on the shirt reminded him of what he was told earlier, or was that yesterday? There are cancer cells in that blood. Peeking through the window, the sun was going down, so it was still the same horrible day.

He got up, not bothering to change his shirt, his hip was still very sore. Limping carefully to the door, he opened it surprised to find Dudley passing by him.

"I can't believe mum let you sleep the whole day," he said and Harry could have sworn he heard a hint of regret in his voice, "dad's not going to let you get away with it."

"Nothing he can do about it now," Harry mumbled, feeling still very tired. He walked down the stairs, ready to start on dinner and saw that dinner had been over based on the dishes in the sink. Had his aunt actually let him sleep instead waking him to help cook?

Thinking that over, he passed by the table and saw the folder Snape brought from the hospital scattered across the tabletop. Clearly someone had gone through all the information in it, something he should probably do as well. He continued walking to the sink and started washing the dishes. Maybe this would stop whatever punishment he would be getting for sleeping half the day.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't see his cousin walk into the kitchen. Dudley sat down at the table and was examining the papers that were scattered across it. Harry looked up after he finished drying the last dish and saw a small plate at the end of the counter with a ham sandwich on it. Taking the plate too tired to consider who left it, he went to sit down at the other end of the table away from Dudley. Both boys sat in silence until Harry had almost finished the sandwich, not realizing again how hungry he actually had been.

"Is this yours?" Dudley asked quietly, swishing his hand over the table.

"Yup," Harry said, standing up, bringing the plate to the sink and starting to wash it. He had a slight limp from his sore hip. "Where are your parents?"

"Oh, I dunno. Mom's here somewhere, but I don't think dad's home yet." Dudley shrugged. "Are you gonna be ok?"

Harry shook his head like he was trying to clear a bug out of his ear when heard a knock on the front door. "Does it really matter?" he said quietly as he passed his cousin heading towards the door to answer it.

His aunt made it to the door first and when Harry got there, Dumbledore was standing in the entrance way in bright yellow and silver robes. He couldn't look further from a muggle and Harry had to hold back his smirk at Aunt Petunia's horrified face.

"Hi sir," Harry called out from the kitchen door. "Erm, what are you doing here?"

"Ah, Harry, just the person I was looking for," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. Who else did he expect to find here?

"Excuse me," Petunia said, "what exactly is going on?"

Dumbledore turned towards his aunt, "Let's take a seat, shall we?" As the headmaster was about to move, the door was pushed open and Snape walked in the room. Harry suddenly remembered his vision and made eye contact with Snape. He didn't look like he had been at a death eater meeting, but how exactly is one supposed to look after spying?

"Oh, good Severus. I take it we have a lot to discuss tonight?" Dumbledore asked no-so-quietly.

"You could say that," Snape replied and walked into the sitting room completely ignoring Petunia.

Dumbledore took off into the sitting room and sat on the sofa waiting for them. Harry followed Petunia and sat across from Dumbledore with Petunia sitting in the chair to his left and Snape standing behind him making Harry very uncomfortable.

"It seems you've received some rather upsetting news today Harry. I'm so sorry you are having to go through this," Harry thought the headmaster sounded sincere, but he wasn't so sure he could trust the man. Not knowing what to say, he just nodded. "We have a couple things to discuss relating to your illness.

"First of all, at the recommendation of Professor Snape, I took the liberty of filing for a medical proxy for you." He paused to let Harry think about that. When he looked confused, Dumbledore asked "Do you know what that is Harry?"

"Not really," Harry admitted, "Healer Smithe mentioned it. That either my guardian or medical proxy has to be at the appointment tomorrow to sign off on the treatment plan."

Dumbledore stood and started pacing the sitting room, "Since you're underage, you're not old enough to make decisions like this without an adult to assist you. That usually falls to your guardians," he peered at Aunt Petunia, "who are expected to make decisions with your best interest in mind. Occasionally, when it's believed the guardian cannot or will not make a decision based on the best interest of the child, another person can be assigned that duty. A medical proxy gives someone outside your guardians the rights to make medical decisions on your behalf.

"Given that you're a wizard, I was able to start the process discreetly at the ministry and they've assigned another person to oversee your care. I take it you don't contest such an arrangement Petunia?" Dumbledore and Snape watched Harry closely.

"Absolutely not, someone else can do all that," Petunia sounded angry which hurt Harry more than her confession to not wanting him. Could this day get any worse?

"Oh good, that will make this process infinitely easier. I have some papers for you to sign relinquishing your medical responsibility for Harry," he waved his hand and papers flew onto the coffee table in front of them.

"So, who is responsible for my medical decisions?" Harry asked thinking it was odd the headmaster hasn't said yet.

"That would be Professor Snape," Dumbledore said casually.

I was wrong, it can get worse.

"No," was all Harry could say. "Why not Mr. or Mrs. Weasley? Or Remus? I'm sure any of them would be more than happy to," Harry was panicking now. Snape could not be in charge of his medical decisions. He'd just heard the man tell Voldemort where he was for the summer! But he didn't say anything about the cancer. He shook that thought from his mind.

"After a lot of consideration, Professor Snape is the best option to give you what you need. I don't think you'd like to burden the Weasley's with an illness like this one and Remus can't be with you at all the times you may need him. Plus he legally cannot."

"But professor," Harry pleaded, "there's got to be someone else."

"By all means Potter," Snape finally joined the conversation, "don't try to hide any of your feelings on my account."

Was that a joke?

Picking up the papers on the coffee table, Dumbledore added, "It's already completed Harry. I think you'll find he has the capability to help you beyond what you'd even imagine possible."

Not likely, but whatever Harry was too tired to argue.

"That leads us to our next piece of business. Treatment options," the old professor said. Harry thought for the first time, he was beginning to look his age.

"Do I need to be here for this?" Aunt Petunia rudely asked standing up.

"You're not done yet Tuney," Snape snarled, "sit down."

Petunia sat down instantly and Harry enjoyed getting to see his aunt look terrified. He couldn't hide this smirk.

"No offense, but can we just get to the point," Harry finally said. "I'm exhausted and really want to go to bed."

"Oh course Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him. "We need to discuss your treatment, or rather you and professor Snape need to discuss it."

Harry eyed his potions professor warily. "So let me try to work this out," he replied. "My options are to either go the magical route with potions, I'm guessing an awful lot of them, but I could die because there's not much success of them working or I could take muggle treatment but I could lose my magic..." He looked at Dumbledore, "Which is a pretty big deal right now, what with the war and all."

Dumbledore nodded slightly and Harry was unsure if it was because of the options or because of his involvement in the war.

"Professor Snape," Harry asked, "what kind of potions would I take?"

"They're specially created for each witch or wizard," Harry wouldn't know that he was intentionally trying to be vague. "They basically aid your magic in killing off the cancer cells. Like Healer Smithe mentioned this afternoon, there's very few cases where it was successful. Part of which is due to so few wizarding cases of the disease to begin with."

"So wait minute," Aunt Petunia interrupted, "you have magic but your magic can't even help you now?" She sounded like she was gloating which Harry did not need to hear.

"Yeah, Aunt Petunia that's pretty much it," Harry said sadly. "Is there really a choice? I can't save the wizarding world when I have no magic." He asked, genuinely confused.

"Harry," Snape said, finally sitting down where Dumbledore was previously sitting, across from Harry. "I would be the one making the potions, and I can tell you it's not good enough. It's not worth the risk on your life. I am the top Potions Master in the U.K. and probably most of Europe, I know we don't always see eye to eye, but I know what I'm talking about with this."

That was unexpected.

"I understand sir," Harry thought hard about what was just said. "What happens with Voldemort," Snape hissed when he said the name, "if I lose my magic?"

"Then everyone else goes on fighting," Snape explained looking at Dumbledore for help, but getting none. Snape threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

"Harry," the blue-eyed wizard finally said, "ultimately, you need to make the decision best for you, not me, and not the wizarding world."

Harry could hear the desperation in his voice and knew that Dumbledore didn't completely feel that way. He didn't like the position he was put into. What if he kept his magic but the cancer wasn't gone before getting to defeat Voldemort? If he truly believed the prophecy and he was destined to be The Chosen One, then did it matter which option he chose?

"Can I think about it tonight?"

"Of course," Snape replied, staring at Dumbledore.

"Petunia," the Headmaster said "Professor Snape will be back in the morning to accompany your nephew again. You will also have the pleasure of his company as your house guest until we can make other arrangements for Harry's care." He looked over his spectacles at her, "I take it this will not be a problem either?"

Aunt Petunia clearly looked angry and disgusted, but just sharply nodded her head.

"Wonderful. If that's all here, I believe you and I have some things to catch up upon, Severus." He walked to the door with Snape right behind him. "Good night Harry."

Harry heard the door close and wanted nothing more to go to sleep to find out this has been one long dream. Instead, his uncle walked in the door and screamed, "BOY! What were those freaks doing at this house!" as he was attempting to walk quickly into the kitchen assuming that was where Harry would be.

Nope, not dealing with this now

Harry looked at Aunt Petunia who appeared to be deep in thought, she didn't notice him stand up and leave the room for the stairs. He'd just missed Uncle Vernon as he entered his bedroom. Not bothering to change his clothes, he curled up in bed trying to ignore his uncle's footsteps coming up the stairs. His door was opened so quickly it slammed against the wall definitely leaving a crack.

"Your chores are not done. Get out of bed this instant," he screamed to Harry, his face turning the famous purple color.

"I really don't care Uncle Vernon," he didn't even lift his head from the pillow or open his eyes.

"Don't you dare. After everything your aunt and I have done for you," he sneered walking over to Harry's bed and pulling his head up by the back of his hair. "You do not disrespect us. I expect today's chores to be done with tomorrow's. Might I suggest you get started tonight."

He pushed Harry's head back down and left the room. Harry did not hear the locks on the outside of the door, clearly supposed to mean that he should do the chores overnight.

Not going to happen.

He fell asleep thinking about magic and medicine, Voldemort and Snape, and finally his friends. In a matter of days, his whole life had drastically changed and he can't even tell them a single thing about it yet.