Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter and all related characters and information belong solely to JK Rowling etc. I also do not own this song, it belongs to La Dispute and the likes.

March 5: The cancer is furious but our son is resilient, we have all the faith we'll get through this no matter what the end. Treatments are violent but he keeps on smiling. It's amazing finding joy in the little things.

It'd been a month since Harry and Severus had discovered the cancer that was ravaging their youngest son's body. Unlike many medical fields, the wizarding world wasn't advanced in cancer research, they were pretty much even with the muggle world. So Harry and Severus had set out to find him the best treatments the world could offer. The price was obsolete, their son had to make it through this sickness. Andrew Snape would come out of it if there was anything they could do about it.

The seven year old had been diagnosed with a very progressive form of Leukemia. The Healers and Doctor's alike hadn't had much hope in the boy surviving. He was already in stage 3. Although, the treatment has shown some mild improvement, they kept their hope up and tried to keep life as normal as possible for Andrew, and his older sister Patterson who was 10.

Andrew was requiring a lot of attention and they knew it had to be hard on their daughter, but she was being so brave and they tried to make special times and days to make her feel better about the lack of attention she had been receiving. She didn't mind either though, she had told both her dads not to worry about her, to focus on her little brother. He was constantly sick from the chemo and radiation, and had lost all his hair. To make him feel better Patterson had cut her hair too.

April 12: Andrew's appetites improved and we thank God everyday. But still it's hard sometimes to see him in that scarecrow frame.

The chemo and radiation were helping to push back the aggressive cancer. It had been a long month, but Andrew had gained an urge to eat. Not as much as he should, but they remained hopeful. It seemed like as good as sign as ever. He had already lost so much weight as it was. They were hoping he would pick up a little more weight now that he was eating. Although, eating didn't mean keeping it down. He tried desperately and the medicine that they gave him to improve his appetite helped.

He was so fragile and when he felt up to the usual horseplay that Harry partook in with him, he was afraid he'd hurt him. Life just became more and more cautious where Andrew was involved. He was missing more and more of school and it was a good week if he made it two or three days. The doctors had recommended they pull him out and teach him from home, or allow him the year off. But the little boy had begged to no end for the right to go to school. It was Severus' love for knowledge that had been passed down to the boy shining through.

July 9: There's a suffering when I look in his eyes. He's been through so much. We've all been through so much but what incredible resolve our little boy shows, only 7, standing face to face with death. He said it's easy to find people who have suffered worse than him. "Like Jesus, suffered worse than anyone," he told me last night, "when God abandoned him."

Andrew was getting worse and worse as time progressed. They knew that despite their greatest efforts the boy wasn't doing as well as he should have been. His body was failing him. They were spending more and more time at the hospital these days. Between sickness and his treatments the family had been run ragged. Severus was stressed out all the time and Harry was always with Andrew. He wouldn't let the boy out of his sight. Soaking up each moment with him. Trying to experience every milestone who could in the time that they had together.

They had both quit their jobs in order to be at the boy's every beck and call. They couldn't help but to worry about him. Despite the smiles that seemed to come out of him every day. It seemed as though his eyes were permanently black from the dark circles that hung under them these days. His clothes hung off his body and he had refused them of buying him new ones

He often reminded them that there were people who had it a lot worse than he did. He didn't want them to fuss over him. He was happy he told them. Just spending time with them was all he could ask for. They often marveled at how grown up he seemed. He hurt and they could both see it in his eyes but he seldom complained to them about how he felt.

September 20: We've been playing in the yard lately and spirits are high although his blood counts aren't.

Andrew fights to stay out of bed. He loves the feel of autumn that's starting to set in over the countryside. It's just him home now. Patterson has moved on and is in her first year at Hogwarts. That means it's just Harry home most days as well; Severus is off at the school teaching potions. He tries to make it home as often as he can, but it's hard.

Harry spends most days kicking the soccer ball around with Andrew or going on walks down the little road that led up to their house. Despite the bad news that kept rolling in from the doctors they both still managed to smile. Andrew was so happy, he was like a little light in the darkness of it all. It was strange really because Harry often thought that if he found himself in the position he wouldn't have quite the same disposition.

October 14: He feels tired all the time.

The poor kid can't go through a normal daily routine without being exhausted. He spent most of his days on the couch watching cartoons, or having Harry read to him. He was completely out of school now. His laughter still rang throughout the house and brightened the darkness that teemed over them all. It echoed through each room and warmed the coldness of the truth that their son wouldn't be with them much longer.

He had been going to the hospital more and more recently.

Severus left Hogwarts and they made sure Patterson was home every weekend and was there to see him, because Andrew asked for her so often it made their hearts hurt. She told him stories of Hogwarts and the fun that she had, and gave him detailed reviews of each of the Quidditch games that she had seen, and how she wanted to so go out for the team next year. Andrew absorbed it all, and the cold reality for them all was that we would probably never walk the halls of Hogwarts as a student.

Andrew loved the stories his sister brought back, and his fathers would slip in some of their own stories and he soaked them up. He didn't look forward to going though, it was a pain he wouldn't allow himself, because he knew more than any of them what was happening to his body. That he so wanted to grow up, but would never get the chance. He wasn't afraid though. He knew that there were many people who would be waiting for him if and when he died.

November 30: At the hospital again. It feels like home when we're here.

He's always being poked and prodded these days. He seems to spend more time hooked up to tubes each and everyday. He barely holds his appetite and has to be fed through a tube. He still smiles everyday though. It's harder and harder to smile around him.

The doctors all knew them by name at this point. The nurses loved little Andrew, and his smile was infectious on them. He had them wrapped around his little finger.

Seeing him hooked to the machines is kind of a surreal experience. The beeps of the machines etching a sick lullaby in the room as he slept. Those beeps showing how fragile Andrew's life really was.

Most of their time was spent sleeping in hospital chairs and curling up on the small couch in the room in shifts. Never leaving him alone. Never sparing a moment.

December 8: He's getting worse.

Andrew had been staying almost exclusively in the hospital at this point. He was fading pretty fast. His smiles came fewer, and with that the darkness of the situation had settled at the edge of everyone's life. It waxed and waned with the good days and the bad.

The doctor's were giving out pamphlets and suggesting grief counselors acting as though Andrew was already dead. It was like a cold slap in the face.

Andrew came home for what would most likely be his last Christmas. He was surrounded by friends and family and showered in gifts he was too tired to care for. Nonetheless he thanked everyone and made sure to make them know he appreciated every single thing that he got. It was kind of bittersweet. Yet they made sure it was cheery and they didn't want him to think about anything other than Father Christmas and spending time with them.

Andrew was so weak by this point. The good days came fewer and fewer. He often talked to them about getting to see his grandparents when he did go. That he would finally get to meet Sirius and Remus and that they would take him on adventures like the ones that Harry and Severus had told them about. This often brought tears to both of their eyes despite their best efforts to hide it from him.

January 19: We buried our son today, our youngest child, and while his death was ugly we must not let it scare us from God. Abundant grace has restored him. A brand new body. And set him free from the torture, finally rid of the cancer. Before the moment he left he briefly wrested from death, suddenly opened his eyes, said, "I SEE EVERYTHING. I SEE EVERYTHING."

Three days later they made funeral plans. The family. Three days later they had to bury their son.

There are five stages to grieving.

Denial.

Anger.

Bargaining.

Depression.

Acceptance.