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Sunday 23 November 1997

"Are you sure you don't need to go check in on him? He didn't so much as flinch while I took this."

Alton's question to Severus came as no surprise, given how late the Gryffindor was out at the party last night - or technically, this morning. Making no move to answer, the professor lifted his coffee cup to his lips to take a long sip of the heavily caffeinated beverage; a sad reminder of how his thirty-seven-year-old mind no longer handled the cumulative lack of sleep as well as it did in his youth. Placing his cup back down onto the table, Severus slowly turned around to see Alton standing in the kitchen's threshold holding up the three phials of blood he'd be taking back to the Guilford hospital for testing. If everything looked alright in them, Dr Swanson would give her approval for the pharmacy to release Harry's chemotherapy, then the healer would return to administer it as part of the arrangement made so Harry could attend the Quidditch match yesterday afternoon and subsequent after-party, causing his late lie in that morning.

"I promise you, he'll be ready by the time you return with his medication," Severus said, flipping over the latest Daily Prophet to scan the rest of the article on the sudden increase in the price of Rue, causally wondering the cause and how it would affect the market for poison recovery potions. When Alton did not respond nor made any movement to leave, Severus summoned another mug from the cabinet and poured the Healer a healthy cup of coffee. "Cream or sugar?"

"Neither," Alton answered as he sat down in Harry's usual chair. The other wizard took an equally long sip of his beverage to combat the early hour, then asked, "Is there anything I need to know before I go to process this blood?"

Although Severus knew some level of intoxication happened at the party - despite never being invited to one in his Hogwarts days, he saw plenty of intoxicated Gryffindors stumbling the corridors - he trusted Harry not to have partaken in any of it; corroborated by his keen observation of the teen sauntering back into their home. If Harry had been drinking, or, Merlin-forbid, taken any magical drugs, Severus would have known immediately. No, Harry's 'high' of the night was not caused by any substance.

"He's simply tired," Severus grinned. "Nothing a quick shower before your return won't remedy. To be honest, I'm hoping he'll sleep through most of today's treatment once it gets started. Make this an easy one for us all. Merlin knows we need it.

"Thank you, again," Severus said, genuinely. "Yesterday meant a lot to him. I think it'll make all the difference in his outlook as he enters his second round at the end of the month."

"Of course," Alton waved off the gratitude in the same manner Severus usually did. "If I'm being honest, I miss the days of coming here to help him. So much happened after… erm… with Sarah and Mary… I'm glad I can help him - and you - in any way I can."

Alton's words gave Severus the perfect opportunity - one he had planned to eventually create - to broach the topic of Harry's accidental magic without the young wizard present. In those late overnight hours waiting for Harry to safely return, the professor searched through every text in his quarters regarding magical cores, dark rituals, and specifically the block. Regrettably, he found no further information to help him figure out what to expect as the block wore down or a timeframe of when the block needed to be replaced. Although Alton might not know the answers right then, he'd have the resources to find them in a more efficient way than Severus.

"I do have another topic I wanted to bring up," he cautiously hinted. "It's regarding the magical block."

As expected, the other man leaned forward, interest now piqued, folding his hands on top of the table.

"What about it?"

Severus released a shaky breath; once he said the words to someone else, they'd become all too real. He'd lose the ability to deny it. Of course, hiding from one's problems did not invalidate them, it only left you unprepared for when they came calling upon you. Severus knew that all too well.

"Yesterday afternoon, Harry claimed he did accidental magic," the Slytherin said.

"And you don't believe him?"

"His mind has been a little off lately, '' Severus carefully stated. "To be sure, I had him test out a Lumos using his wand. Nothing happened."

"Wishful thinking, perhaps?" Alton peered skeptically over the mug as he took another silent sip. Severus, though, wouldn't play into his tactic; refusing to be goaded into speaking again. Realizing his misjudgement, Alton placed the cup down so delicately, it made zero noise when the bottom hit the cheap laminated table surface. "Does it really come as a surprise, Severus? Given everything Harry faced last year with his magic?

"Listen, I've read through the reports on his struggles all throughout last year. There's an obvious correlation between his accidental magic breaking through during his stronger chemotherapy rounds. None of us can deny that. Extrapolating from there, the regimen he's doing now is much stronger than anything he did last year - it has to be or else it won't be effective - therefore it makes perfect sense for his magic to behave in a similar manner… eventually breaking down the block, possibly sooner than expected."

Forgetting for a moment about Harry fast asleep, Severus slammed his fist on the table. The two mugs rattled in response.

"Why wasn't this ever mentioned?!" He demanded. "It's only been five weeks. I thought we had at least twelve until the block failed!"

"I said possibly three months," Alton corrected. Not at all intimidated by Severus's temper, the healer calmly explained, "You knew the three months was an estimate, Severus. There hasn't been nearly enough documentation on the ritual to determine its longevity in any amount of accuracy. Once its consequences were discovered, it became obsolete, making any solid evidence of its function or actions nearly impossible to find."

"You said three months-"

"I estimated three months," the healer corrected him. "But ultimately, we don't have the slightest clue. Age, magical power, and any dozen, or so, conditions… such as muggle chemotherapy… could impact its time frame."

Overcome with an emotion he had difficulty identifying - fear, he suspected - Severus ran his hand down the length of his face. The magical component of Harry's disease blindsided him. He'd been assuming they were in the clear until January and now he wasn't entirely certain of that anymore. How was it possible for the muggle medical systems to have a better grasp on their treatment terms than the wizarding variety? Dr Swanson could step through the floo right now to give him a dissertation on Harry's condition and the outlook surrounding him, yet Alton had almost nothing to go on when assessing Harry's magical health.

"How will we know?" Severus eventually asked, then repeated to clarify, "How will we know when it needs to be repeated? Obviously, we blocked his magic to stop it from aiding his leukemia, so is a little magic acceptable? Or do we need to repeat the ritual once he's shown any sign of accidental magic?"

The look in Alton's eyes told Severus he wouldn't like the man's answer long before he opened his mouth to speak.

"There's no precedent set for a case like Harry's. We'll have to keep a close watch on him to see what happens," the healer cautioned. "Nevertheless-" he held up his hand to stop Severus's queued up argument against the 'wait and see' method, "-based on my review of the material, cracks in the block are to be expected as it deteriorates over the coming months. As long as he's not seeing periods of high accidental magic often, and certainly not any controlled magic, it shouldn't have much bearing on his cancer."

"Shouldn't?" Severus skeptically questioned.

"You, of all people, Severus, should understand how fickle medicine can be." Alton shook his head slightly. "And that's in a typical patient… not one who survived the Killing Curse twice, had a soul fragment of a dark wizard living beside his own, on top of now having almost an entire arsenal of raw, chaotic magic. I don't have to remind you that Harry is far from typical."

No, he certainly did not need the reminder. Yet the more he pondered the idea, the more he couldn't recall thinking of his son in the same manner. His Harry had the same history, albeit he died never knowing Voldemort's soul fragment lived within him, but he didn't carry the same connotation of being the 'exception to every rule' as this Harry did.

Maybe if he had, we wouldn't have been caught so off guard.

"So what do you suggest we do about it?" Severus pressed on.

"You do exactly what you've been doing all along… anything to help give him a reason to keep going to get through to the next step." Alton stood, clasping to the blood he collected. "Leave the medical work - muggle and magical alike - to Dr Swanson and myself. We'll take good care of him, Severus. We'll get through it."

Coming from anyone else, Severus might have argued the directive, wanting to take on a more active role in Harry's care. If he learned anything from his meltdown of two weeks ago, it was how he needed to lean on those people who he trusted to make the important decisions when he couldn't.

"I'll be back in about an hour," Alton said, drawing the professor out of his slippery thoughts. "You'll still be here?"

Severus peered over at the clock on the wall beside the shelf filled with Harry's tablets - quarter to eight in the morning. "My shift at the lab is ten to six today, so it gives me plenty of time to help get Harry settled. Minerva will be the one to stay with him the rest of the day."

"Perfect." The healer flashed a small smile. "I'll see you in a bit, then. Do try to have him eat something substantial this morning. If I remember correctly, he preferred not to eat during the infusions, even if we were only running the prophylactic medications first."

Alton didn't wait for Severus's commitment to take his leave, understanding the minor battle Severus had ahead of him. Being roughly ninety minutes to the start of his infusions didn't give Harry long enough to shower - as he liked to begin on chemo days - plus eat a decent breakfast. Eight o'clock, Severus decided. He'd give Harry fifteen more minutes of blissful sleep. If he wasn't awake by then, he'd go to wake up the young wizard to the harsh reality facing him. Thankfully, right as the clock hand reached two to eight, Severus heard the familiar sound of the shower running from Harry's lavatory; the Gryffindor would make it on his own after all.

Recently, the professor had been leaving Harry to his own devices to prepare his breakfast when back at the castle, but given the night he had on top of the short turnaround, Severus automatically went to the cupboards to prepare Harry his typical pre-chemotherapy meal of porridge, granola, and fruit, alongside a cup of water for his morning meditation, including the newly started steroids Severus disliked him taking because of his difficulty sleeping during the regimen. If nothing else, the task of preparing breakfast did him well to focus on things outside of his current worries: like accidental magic, remission rates, and his Slytherins; the latter a topic which had been sitting in the back of his mind since his run-in with Slughorn becoming increasingly more complicated in the last day.

The Quidditch match, and succeeding party, appeared to practically solidify Draco's return to his former place in their house. While Severus watched the match - his hand clenched white-knuckled around his wand, ready to cast any number of spells to protect the Malfoy heir - never once did he pick up so much as a hint of distrust in his teammates. On the contrary, for the team only having a weeks' worth of practices, they moved so synchronously that had the rest of the school not seen Harper's disaster in the first place, no one would have suspected Draco was a last-minute alternative. Together as a well-oiled team, they effortlessly moved the Quaffle up the pitch to score points, and darted between the Ravenclaws to defend their own goals. Protecting Draco from every Bludgers as if their own lives depended on it, they allowed the Seeker to do his job in finding, then capturing, the snitch in a harrowing dive the professor fully planned on lecturing him about later; once the feeling of sweet victory wore off.

Too bad this game wasn't against the Gryffindors, Severus's lips upturned into a mischievous smile at the thought. How satisfying would it have been for this game to have been the one he got to heckle Minerva over?

No sooner than placing the bowl at Harry's place setting - complete with a well placed warming charm -, a mildly loud pop sounded near his coffee cup. Logically, he knew his absence from the Great Hall during breakfast meant the house elves would deliver his ever-growing amount of post directly into his quarters, however, the unexpected sound still startled the professor. It took him nearly twenty seconds of blankly staring at the envelopes to fully comprehend what occurred.

"I need a vacation," he muttered sadly to himself.

Seated back down in his chair, he took another slow sip of his coffee while shuffling the envelopes. To the rubbish bin, he vanished an advertisement for the latest Odonaghue's Enchanted Razor and a letter postmarked from the Potions Journal he'd subscribed to in his first year of teaching. The letter was a reminder for him to resubscribe - his final notice; it warned - to avoid a lapse in issues. Unfortunately, for the first time in at least a decade, a stack of at least six months' worth sat on his desk, completely untouched.

The next envelope was a reminder about Harry's inpatient treatment next Friday at the AYA for his second round of Cycle A as well as his next bone marrow biopsy to check for remission. This one he levitated to the wall, affixing it next to Harry's medication schedule. The last envelope had his jaw clenching instantly at the sight of the official ministry seal on the back. There were more than a handful of reasons he'd be receiving an official Ministry letter, but a quickly scribbled 'K.S' narrowed it down enough to calm him. At the very least, an official summons for his role in Draco's release would come from Samson rather than Kingsley. On the other hand, the only correspondence he awaited from Shacklebolt pertained to the Obcasio. As something he'd hoped to keep it as 'off the books' as possible it certainly wouldn't bear the Ministry seal unless official, meaning the former Order member ended up turning over the permit knowledge to Samson - exactly who Severus hoped to bypass when handing it off to Kingsley.

Severus,

I recently received the final report regarding the soil found in the Slytherin common room during our investigation of the flood following the tip you provided to me.

The Ministry received a permit to import the substance back in May of this year by a scholar studying magical geology in Durham. The Unspeakables asked to review the permit had denied the request, and the Ministry has no record of an appeal being filed afterwards. As this is part of a current investigation, we sent two Aurors to question the requestor. They confirmed the soil had not been imported, nor was any additional permit request filed. We are still investigating other methods of how the substance used in the Slytherin flood made it into the UK.

K. Shacklebolt

Another dead end. It seemed too coincidental for this permit to be filed only five months prior to the rare and mysterious substance being used in an attempted murder by flooding the Slytherin Common Room. Yet he couldn't deny the timing made little sense. If Death Eaters orchestrated it - a fact he still wasn't completely in agreement with - they had little reason to obtain this sand back in May. Depending on the exact date, Voldemort might have still been alive.

"G' morning, Severus."

Severus snapped his head up at Harry's sleepy greeting from the kitchen threshold. Discreetly, he overturned Kingsley's letter, then vanished it to the top drawer of his office desk to scrutinize the letter later. With any luck, he'd find some sort of underlying message hidden within the words if given enough time to examine the document - time Severus, regrettably, did not currently have to dedicate to it.

"You almost missed breakfast," Severus admonished with a smile. "Although I guess I should be pleased you're up at all. Are you aware of what time you came home this morning?"

"Two," Harry sheepishly replied, not making eye contact while dutifully taking his morning medications. The young wizard hardly gave them a second glance anymore, demonstrating his trust in Severus to dispense the correct ones on the correct days… something they both knew Harry's current state of mind couldn't keep straight otherwise. "I didn't expect you to wait up last night. Sorry if I worried you."

"As a Head of House, do you really think I wouldn't be up to make sure I safely accounted for all my students?" Severus chuckled when Harry's eyes widened. "You live in a magic castle… surrounded by magical portraits... if you think for a second we don't have ways to keep a close watch over our students, you Gryffindors are as naïve as we Slytherins thought."

"Well," Harry frowned, "I don't think McGonagall kept track of us. If she did, there's no way she would've let us get away with half of the stuff we'd done."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Severus plainly scoffed. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I am not upset about you being out late. It's good for you to be out with your friends when you can be. You still made it up... mostly... on time, though Alton had to collect your blood sample as you slept."

"I think that's what ultimately woke me up." Harry's hand lightly brushed up against his port. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Around nine," Severus replied. Not exactly ready to face the reality of the day, he sighed in discontent, "I'll be here to get you started, but have to leave no later than a quarter to ten to make it to the laboratory in time for my shift there. Minerva will stay with you until I get back."

Harry's face scrunching at the news filled Severus with pride. To see this Harry so blatantly preferring his company over the young wizard's former head of house and guardian still amazed him more than it should. They beat the odds stacked against them to become a little family; one which would, hopefully, become more official before the end of July.

The two wizards fell into a content silence, Harry picking at his food and Severus searching through the Prophet for any signs of strange happenings. Interestingly, the particularly magical circumstances of the muggle surgeon's death never made it to the wizarding news - at least not that Severus found - and outside of his gut instinct telling him someone followed him at the hospital, nothing relating to the Death Eaters occurred. It had been oddly quiet on that front.

"Did you ask Healer Smithe about my magic?"

The professor tried to ignore the small quiver laced beneath Harry's voice. How long had the Gryffindor been thinking about it? Since the mention of Alton? Sometime in the middle of the party? Throughout the entire Quidditch match? When will he be free of this near-constant worrying? Will he ever be free of it? Or will it linger alongside him like a dark shadow tainting every bright moment?

Those last two questions tore a hole straight through Severus's heart. Desperate to ease any stress he could, Severus explained the limited details the Healer provided. During the heavily one-sided conversation, Severus carefully monitored Harry's reaction to the news, particularly when he mentioned the high possibility of needing to redo the ritual sooner than they expected. Harry handled it well, much in part because the news wasn't much different from Severus's explanation yesterday afternoon. All too soon, they heard the floo in the sitting room burst to life, signaling Alton's return. Harry's lighter attitude quickly vanished, leaving behind a dread-filled face instead.

"It's only one day," Severus reached his hand out to clasp Harry's cold one, reminding himself as much as the young wizard. "By tomorrow night, you'll be past all of this."

Harry didn't need to speak. His eyes said the words both wizards were thinking. In only three days, they'd know for sure if the treatment is working.

Friday would simultaneously slowly creep upon him and be there faster than he'd like. It left Severus unsure which he preferred: for time to slow so he remained in ignorant bliss as long as he could, or finally have answers even if it meant being told they needed to move onto Plan C - whatever that might be.

"Dammit!"

The random curse in the otherwise quiet laboratory to Severus's right drew not only his attention but also those in the neighbouring pods towards the rapidly over bubbling cauldron belonging to his podmate Cecilia Russo; a young Italian lab assistant he met for the first time at the beginning of his shift. Thinking fast, Severus hastily placed a strong stasis charm over his own boiling potion followed immediately by a protection charm around it, unwilling to risk any drop of the soon to be explosive liquid from causing a bigger explosion by mixing into his own. To the other side of the cauldron in question, Arlie Clagg and Renee Kettles - making up the other half of their Sunday Quartet - did the same to their workstations.

In his teaching days, Severus was no stranger to laboratory explosions. However, working in a professional laboratory promptly challenged his previous experiences. He quickly learned he'd easily take Longbottom's worst incident over that of a commercial, experimental laboratory explosion. No more than seven agonizing seconds later, a thick plume of foul-smelling black smoke poured out of the cauldron, followed by a rapid succession of five ear-splitting explosions. Cecilia barely had the chance to cast her own protective charm - around her workstation to contain the mess rather than around herself as the rest of the Potioneers had - when the bottom of the cauldron impressively shattered, spewing its tarry substance onto the now protected table. With their wands at the ready, no one dared to move as they all waited to act should any latent reactions occur. Thankfully, her protection charm held all the sludge back.

"I think it's finished now," the witch announced, her face reddening from her immense embarrassment.

No one said a word, or so much as offered to help her clean off the mess. They simply turned back around to their benches, canceled their charms and went back to work. It was exactly what Severus wanted to do, except sitting so close to the scene meant for every clang or swish he heard, it reminded him of the disaster he was leaving in the hands of someone probably incapable of properly handling it. Severus skeptically peered over her shoulder at the melted mess, holding back his judgmental grimace.

Perhaps she's a long lost Longbottom relation after all.

"What were you working on?"

His question, and his unexpected presence, caused her to jump, dropping her wand onto the floor. The clang rang out almost as loudly as the explosion.

"Sor'y," she sheepishly said, her wand nestled back into her trembling hand. "I'm normally better than this, I promise."

"You failed to answer my question."

As harsh as it sounded, he didn't particularly feel up for small talk, but he needed to know the ingredients he might face during the clean-up process. Unlike in his Potions classroom where he intimately knew every material used, allowing him to vanish them safely, Cecilia could have used almost anything. If he didn't take the proper precautions, he ran the genuine risk of causing further danger to himself or his podmates.

"O-oh," she stuttered. "It's a base for whatever experiment they're working on tomorrow." She reached out to hand him a book, outlining the procedure. "I followed the directions exactly as written, so I don't know where I went wrong…"

Severus eyed her set up, or what was left of it, and the line of ingredients on the shelf above it; the leftover ingredients she had prepared to use had the explosion not occurred. Using his extensive background in Potions, he quickly identified at least two errors in her work.

"Did you use a silver cauldron?" He sharply asked. "Or at least gold? The temperature inside would significantly increase when you added the Agrippa."

Her lack of response told Severus everything he needed to know about what happened, leaving him deeply concerned with her supposed potion's ability. Although not his place to comment on other employees' skill sets upon employment in the laboratory, he made a mental note to discuss it with Lucius, as this could end up being a significant safety issue.

Reminiscent of his Potion Master days, he aggressively pulled out his wand to clean up the mess, fully intending on lecturing her throughout the entire process. "You're extremely lucky your cauldron exploded first. Had you gotten to the Snakeweed, being as poorly diced as you currently have it prepared, it would have reacted so caustically it'd cover you in such severe burns-"

"Ms Russo?"

The interruption annoyed Severus as much as it would have coming from one of his students' mid-lecture. For a moment, he forgot where he was until he turned to address their unknown visitor, and he was face to face with the same quill pusher witch, Ms Aves, who escorted him to meet Silas Elmwood.

"Y-yes?" Cecilia nervously replied. "That's me."

The Human Resource witch arched her eyebrow, giving the subject of her inquiry a stern head-to-toe evaluation. "Follow me," she coldly instructed. "We have some paperwork to complete regarding your actions today."

"O-ok." The young Potioneer peered around at the still soiled bench. "Just let me finish-"

"He'll do it," Aves motioned to Severus, who sneered in response, then without waiting for confirmation promptly turned and strutted off; hardly giving Cecilia the chance to catch up.

"This one was here less than what? A month?" Renee casually asked, not so much as lifting her head up from her restarted cauldron. "It's a shame, too. I liked her. Seemed like a bright girl… good potential, if only she didn't get so nervous over every little thing."

Severus tried not to overthink their nonchalant cantor - Renee's unconcerned words and Arlie's complete disregard for the entire event while he flipped through textbooks, scribbling notes into his opened notebook - to focus on finishing up the task he'd been unfairly assigned.

"What about Felix Felicis?" Arlie Clagg randomly announced. "Why didn't we think of this before?!"

Severus paused his wand mid-cleaning-spell, leaving his arm and dark ebony wand precariously floating above the bench. "Although this disaster of an explosion was certainly unfortunate, I assure you, I can handle the cleanup without going to those extremes."

"No, that's not what I meant," Clagg exasperatedly sighed. "Do you think if we target the potion - the Felix Felicis - directly at the overgrowing cells… so it's used there rather than by the drinker, in general… it'd be enough to kill off the cells?"

Severus gave the idea a thorough consideration for a moment, then slowly shook his head. He placed his wand back into his robe and pulled open the notes he gave Lucius to bring back last week. Flipping to the section he memorized on human genetics, he then dropped it down on the table directly between them all with a loud bang. "You're forgetting the fact that the cell's DNA - the material responsible for instructing them what to do - has been altered to cause the rapid growth. Therefore, you run the genuine risk of Felix Felicis aiding its rapid growth - as it's what the cell wants to do - rather than correcting the mutation."

A hard lump formed in the back of Severus's throat when the words left him. Bordering this closely to the circumstances of his son's death made it difficult for him to think rationally.

"What if we somehow manipulate Felix Felicis to work alongside, say, a Shrinking Potion?" Clagg amended, the most excited Severus had ever heard him. "The Shrinking Potion could direct the action we want Felix Felicis to do… reverse the growth until it's gone. And if we do it right, it'd work faster than the current potions, plus be more effective than the muggle medications."

It was an oversimplification, at best, but at the same time it wasn't completely unfounded, even if it lacked the basic understanding of potions. It gave them a place to start. As Research Potioneers, that's all they needed.

"There have been no previous studies of targeting these potions to such a specific part of the body," Severus challenged. "It's also not feasible to produce the Felix Felicis in large enough doses and it's poisonous in quantity needed to continuously work to reverse the cell growth."

Clagg, and at this point Renee too, were completely silent thinking it through.

"What about the process… hype…" Clagg tightly closed his eyes to concentrate. "Hyper fractionation... We give small doses of it over a certain period of time. Maybe start with the shrinking potion, then follow it up with the combination? That'll give the body time to adjust without risking toxicity, while the smaller batches make it more reasonable to produce."

"The theory works out." Renee Kettles nodded her head to support the hypothesis.

"It might," Severus admitted, "although I still don't recall there ever being studies done of combining such potions or forcing it into a specific system."

Arlie levitated half a dozen aging books from the small library in the back of the room onto their tables. "I guess that's why we get paid the big galleons." He shrugged before tossing a book to Severus.

The encouragement in his colleague's voice hit Severus in a way he never expected. For years as a Potions professor, his goal at the end of the school year was to impart knowledge to the next generation of students using a very specific curriculum. If all of his students passed - being held to his high standards - he was successful. Working as a Research Potioneer, though, required him to adjust his previous definition of success. His job was now to push the current boundaries, to reexamine the things which used to be considered 'impossible'. They'd see more failures than not, but they'd use those as a stepping stone into their next rendition of their hypothesis rather than a block in their path to their end goals. In short, if a perfectly usable potion already existed, or was so easy to discover, they'd be out of a job. This new way of thinking re-energized Severus in his work and he poured himself into his research for the next three and a half hours; hardly moving from his bench unless he got up to grab another reference text.

"I think if we can get the Shrinking Potion to the right cells first, then immediately following it up with a combination of Shrinking and Felix Felicis, it would have the best chance at working," Severus said without lifting his head out of his notes. "But that still leaves us with the obstacle of targeting the correct cells. Not to mention what happens when Felix Felicis wears off."

Arlie cleared his throat, equally fatigued from the studying. "How do the muggle medicines target the right cells?"

"Not well," Severus frowned. "They find the cells with rapid growth, unable to differentiate between the ones caused by cancer and those naturally occurring, like the stomach lining and hair follicles. Haphazardly using a Shrinking Potion on all rapid cell growth wouldn't be any better than chemotherapy. We need to find a better way."

"First off, do you think we'd get Mr Malfoy to approve it?" Renee asked with a small squeak in her voice as she said their employer's name. "Don't get me wrong, I'm all for moving our work this way, except it's a bit of a waste of time to put more research into it if he won't approve of the experiment."

To Severus, the answer seemed obvious: Lucius wouldn't turn his back on such a groundbreaking discovery in both the potions and the healing realm. "Why don't you think he'd approve?"

Renee stared inquisitively at him for a few seconds. "Well, we don't have the best record of getting off track research approved. I mean… over the years, I've sent a couple of proposals myself but never heard back on any of them. Arlie had - was it one or two presentation requests," in response, their third podmate lifted two fingers into the air. "And he's yet to get them past the first committee."

Severus narrowed his eyes onto his opened notes. This was the first major project he had any excitement about since starting here. Leaving it in the hands of these two didn't give him much confidence.

"Let me handle Lucius," he assured his teammates. "The cell marking project is beneficial regardless of if we use it with the two specific potions, plus I don't recall anyone using Felix Felicis as a part of a combination potion. If presented in the right way, it will certainly arouse his interest."

"You sound sure of yourself for being so new here," Renee scoffed. "If you're not careful, you'll end up like Cecilia."

"They're friends," Arlie said. "Where have you been most of the year?"

"I know that you prat," she bickered back. "My point is, where the bottom line is concerned, Malfoy doesn't come across as caring much about friendship."

"I don't expect him to be nepotistic," Severus corrected her. "I simply understand how a man such as Lucius thinks. I believe I can present this in a way he'd find beneficial. Trust me, I'll get it approved."

"If you say so," Renee agreed, stretching her arms out over her head followed by an obscenely loud yawn; one reminding him of Mae. "A battle for another day, I guess. We're already late. Are you here next weekend, Severus?"

At her comment, Severus's head snapped up from his notebook, leaving a long, trailing dark ink spot right on top of his reminder to check the hospital library for information on the mechanism used to target cells. He swung around, only then noticing how many other groups had left for the night and that there were no clocks on the walls. "What time is it?"

Arlie checked his watch. "Almost seven," he said, casually packing up his books and supplies. "That went fast. I think it's a sign we're onto something here and we…"

Severus heard nothing either of his colleagues were saying to him.

"I have to go," he hurriedly said. Forgetting about magic in his panic, he began frantically stacking his quills, books, and parchment. Suddenly the messy stacks he created levitated up off the bench and floated into his waiting, opened bag. "Wait, a second-" the professor confusedly began, stopping at the sight of Arlie's extended wand, expertly navigating his belongings into their places. "Thank you."

"We'll clean up here. Go home, Severus." Arlie instructed. Severus did not have to be told twice.

The atmosphere when Severus walked through the door to his quarters was eerily calm, relieving, and worrying to the professor all at once. As he always did when he returned from class or the lab, he vanished his bag to his office, hung up his cloak and outer robe, then cast the sanitizing spell upon himself; three steps which became so natural to him over the year he hardly had to think about doing them anymore. Craning his neck for a better vantage point, the sitting room was empty, meaning Minerva and Harry were in Harry's room or the kitchen. Tuning his hearing towards the bedroom corridors, no sounds were coming from either Harry's room or his lavatory. At a quarter past seven, the chances of Harry already being asleep for the rest of the night were high. Of course, a lot of that depended on how the overall day went for the young wizard.

Severus immediately smelled the delicious scent of warm beef stew when he pushed open the kitchen door to Minerva standing with her back to him at his countertop, magically warming up two bowls.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Severus quietly said, but she didn't respond beyond levitating the two bowls, two cups of tea, and a shared plate of buttered bread to the table.

Severus sunk down into his chair, finding the irony of his day coming full circle almost humorous. Twelve hours ago, he finished his breakfast with Alton, yet now he was eating dinner with Minerva. Throw in Arlie as his, thankfully silent, lunch companion and Severus couldn't deny the village he had supporting him.

"Thank you," he said to her, genuinely grateful for her having everything under control in his absence. "Did Harry eat?"

Minerva sighed. "As much as could be expected, I suppose. Some broth and eggs, though he mostly picked at it."

Unfortunately, Severus understood the meaning behind her words all too well. "How did the rest of the day go?"

"Unfortunately, no different from any other treatment day I've stayed with him," she neutrally reported. "He's been asleep for about an hour now. Given the festivities of last night, he stayed unusually awake most of the day… flat out refused to go lay down in bed until he practically passed out on the sofa."

"It doesn't surprise me in the least," Severus sadly chuckled. "He absolutely hates being in his room when he feels ill, no matter how much more comfortable I tell him he'd be there. It's only gotten worse since starting his inpatient treatments."

"Well… I wasn't about to move him unless he seemed like he'd be sleeping for a while, which was around six fifteen." Minerva took a sip of her steaming tea. As she expertly placed it back on its saucer without so much as a clink, she quietly added, "He missed you today... not that he said so out loud… still, I could tell. He kept watching the clock, then the door, waiting for you to get home as early as three in the afternoon."

The declaration poured an unhealthy amount of guilt into Severus for being late. Had he been on time, he likely would have at least seen Harry before he went off to bed. And with so few ways to help the young wizard through his treatments, this one seemed so easy - be there when you say you will be - yet he missed his chance.

"I'm adopting Harry," the words left Severus's mouth with no forethought. "Or I'm trying to, at least."

Minerva's brown eyes softened. "Have you told him yet?"

"No," he hesitantly answered, unable to meet his friend's gaze. "I want to wait until I've heard from my solicitor… someone Lucius put me in contact with who handles muggle-wizarding relations."

"For fear of being denied." She didn't ask it as a question. Still, Severus nodded. "Any idea of when you will find out?"

"Last I've heard, the muggle authorities have approved of me to adopt someone," he chuckled at the ridiculous image of himself going off to find a child. He didn't want merely any child, he wanted the one he already loved. "I guess it's a good first step. I doubt Mrs Figg, of all people, will contest in signing her muggle rights over to me. As far as I can tell, she's had no contact with Harry since he left Little Whinging. In fact, he seemed quite perturbed at the arrangement of her guardianship on his behalf."

"I can imagine," Minerva smiled, slyly. "How does your girlfriend feel about this?"

Severus recoiled at the inappropriate inquiry. "That's hardly any of your business," he sternly retorted, but her eyes refused to back down. "They get along well… that's all I'll say."

He wanted to tell her how every single day he imagined the three of them someday becoming an official family; a thought which terrified him on so many levels.

"When it all comes together, he'll be happy, Severus," she pointedly said, resting her hand on his arm. "And, just you wait, it will all come together. Even if you can't see it now, you'll get your happy ending."

Severus rolled his eyes at her theatrics, more to hide his embarrassment at how much he wanted her to be right than anything else. Given everything going on - the return of chemotherapy in their home after a week "off", the very real possibility of Harry's magical core returning, Kingsley's letter, and their breakthrough theory in the lab - Severus did not have the emotional equity stored up to handle a sentimental Minerva. So he did what Slytherins did best when faced with a tough conversation: diverted it away to a topic he felt more comfortable discussing.

"Pardon me. I didn't realize you were a seer now. Shall I warn Sybill to watch her back?" He bantered lightly, and the sly smile creeping up her face reinforced his decision. "You certainly can't take Frenze's place. As I understand it, he has nowhere else to go… plus we haven't seen this many students interested in Divinations in at least a hundred years. I highly doubt Albus is ready to throw it all away."