"normal talk"

"Thinking"

"Parselmouth and AN"

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Chapter Three

Harry sighed as his friends came into his private room. Questions were rapidly flying from Hermione's mouth before the door even closed completely. Ron was dicretely looking Harry over as he sat down. Harry smiled to placate them.

"I'll be fine. The treatment just takes a while, so Dr. Bishop is here to take over for Madam Promphey."

"Harry, this isn't common in this world!" Ron protested.

"I'm from both worlds, Ron. Trust me."

"I won't. Not until you tell me what it is." Harry flinched.

"I can't."

"No, you won't. You can tell us anything."

"I can't. You don't understand, and you won't. You'll get emotional and crap and I just need a bit of normalcy in my life right now. What's worse is I can't go to classes until two weeks from now."

"What? Why?" Hermione screeched.

"Because my immune system is shot. The only reason you're allowed in here is there is a charm that kills all germs in the vicinity of the area." Hermione's eyes narrowed and she was gone, dragging Ron behind her.

"We'll see you tomorrow at lunch."

"Oh shit."

"Language, Harry."

"English, Darius." The healer gave him a stern look before sighing. "She's going to figure it out in no time."

"Harry, they won't hate you for not telling them. Now, lets get your treatment started." The next day, Hermione and Ron were back, demanding why he didn't just tell them.

"I don't like being the weakling."

The hall fell silent as the doors opened. Harry took a deep breath before allowing Ron to drag him to the Gryffindor table. His head was as bald as Voldemort's, his scar in plain sight. As they sat down, a Slytherin started to laugh hysterically. Then murmurs, followed by more laughs and finally questions being thrown at the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Ron, I don't think I can do this."

"You can, Harry. Because you're not the weakling anymore. You're a brave Gryffindor who knows how to face his fears." The only table that wasn't whispering like the rest was their own. That was because Harry had asked Hermione and Ron to tell their house what was going on. Even Lavender Brown hadn't gossiped about what ails him.

"HEY POTTER! YOUR OLD HAIR STYLE WAS BETTER! WHAT ARE YOU? A WANNA BE DARK LORD?" Harry flinched at Goyle's words. A hush fell once more as he stood, nodding to the Headmaster, who had also stood.

"No, I am not a wanna be dark lord. I'm sick. Or do you not know the concept? I'm dying, idiot, and it'll be long before Voldemort takes me." Flinches crossed almost every face. "But, you know what? I'll die happy, because I'm going to do everything in my power to save the ones that I love. To destroy your 'Master' while you cower in fear because you couldn't say no. If you excuse me, I'm heading to class." The Golden Trio left the stunned hall as they made their way to Potions. The Potions Master nodded at them as they took their seats. "Sir, you should let Voldemort know. He might try something, or think I'm going to die anyways."

"I'll discuss the idea with the Headmaster." The class filled. "Over the next few weeks, I am asked for you to try and create a potion with a fellow classmate. The partners are thus," he tapped the board.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy

Ron Weasley and Blaise Zabini

Neville Longbottom and Theodore Nott

Dean Thomas and Pansy Parkinson

Seamus Finnigan and Daphne Greengrass

Hermione Granger and Vincent Crabbe

Lavender Brown and Millicent Bullstrode

Parvati Patil and Tracey Davis

Eloise Midgen and Gregory Goyle

"I don't care what the potion does. Nor do I care if you get along. Everyone is stuck with their partner until after new years. Potter, Draco, my office." With shaking legs, Harry followed the two Slytherins into the aforementioned room. "Now, Mr. Potter is highly ill. This is why I paired the two of you. If he should be unable to help at some point, I know you can handle it, Draco."

"So he wasn't just causing a scene?"

"No I wasn't." Harry snapped, glaring. "I was telling the truth. I have maybe a year left if my treatment doesn't take again. If it does, I may have a long time."

"What are you ill with." Harry flinched away.

"I have cancer. High Risk out of remission cancer."

"Wait, you mean you have been treated before?"

"Yes." Harry let his gaze drift about the room. "I was diagnosed when I was five. Healer Bishop has been my doctor since." Green met silver. The fifteen year old flinched back at the hurting look in said eyes. "Malfoy?"

"You can't die!" The slightly older boy cried. Harry frowned at the slight ring to the voice. "You can't!"

"I can't-"

"We'll make the cure!"

"Draco, stop this nonsense."

"But Uncle Sev-"

"Mr. Potter, I need you to leave. I must speak to my godson alone." Harry gave the blond one last questioning look before he left. About thirty minutes later, the two entered the classroom, and class was dismissed.

"What was that about?" Ron asked as they entered the Charms Class room. So Harry retold the whole episode.

"Sounds like he's really hoping you'll win this war, or..." Hermione trailed off. "I need to do more research. I'll tell you what I find." The day finished slowly for Harry, who ended up cutting History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts to go sleep. He was exhausted and concerned. He fell asleep reading a book that Sirius had given him.