Harry sighed, pausing outside of the door and steeling himself to walk through. Yes, he wanted to do this, but he was already so very tired, and this was going to be trying. Usually, just checking on someone and talking was easy, but Snape had absolutely never been easy. Taking a deep breath, he plastered a smile on his face and opened the door to the hospital room. He'd done this many times over the past few weeks, but the man had been in a coma all those times. It had been quite peaceful. This was going to be infinitely different.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said as he pushed open the door, trying to sound upbeat and not like he was feverish, queasy, and that he might fall asleep where he was standing.

"Potter…you look like shit," Snape sneered with a great deal of surprise in his tone as his dark eyes roamed from Harry's stringy hair that seemed to have lost its ability to defy gravity, to the bags under his eyes, his chalky skin, and the clothes that looked new but still hung off of him like he'd recently lost weight he really didn't have to lose to begin with.

"And I was about to say that you were looking well," Harry chuckled but sank thankfully into the armchair beside the man's bed. Snape really did look a lot better and was currently a good decade younger than he'd been on all his potions. They still weren't out of his system yet, and Harry was extremely curious about how many more years were going to be knocked off the man's age. Something about the man being younger made him look infinitely more approachable and relatable to Harry, whether Snape liked it or not.

"I've just been busy helping with the reconstruction, all the funerals, and preparing for the trials…I'll get some sleep tonight," he said, really not believing sleep would come since his nightmares had firmly started up again recently, thank Merlin for silencing charms or Kreacher would be all over him. He really hadn't slept much at all the past few days.

"Potter, I'm the one in the hospital bed with a hole in my neck who just woke up from a coma, but you look worse than I do," the Potions Master remarked, a touch of concern bleeding into this tone, shocking Harry to no end. He must really look bad if Snape was concerned. While still looking stern and stoic, the man's younger face held more emotion than Harry was used to seeing on it.

"Well, you got to sleep through all the hard work and are miraculously aging backwards," he smirked at the man who glared back at him. "I'm glad to see you're awake though. It seems Nagini's bite was just the tip of the iceberg of what you'd been doing to yourself," he added accusingly.

"Indeed…" Snape said with no remorse or really any emotion at all. "The healers told me you've somehow gotten yourself placed in charge of my care? What in Merlin's name did you tell them for that atrocity to happen?!" He raised an eyebrow questioningly, but thankfully with little ire behind it. The man actually seemed more relieved than anything else.

Harry sneered angrily at the memory of the healers, who'd sworn an oath to care for the sick, blatantly suggesting they let the man bleed out on the floor of the hospital. "Well, Professor, it was a bit difficult, if you can imagine, to convince them to take care of you after the battle…no one knowing your role of course. I may have yelled…and threatened more than a few people, briefly lost control of my magic, and offered to ruin the hospital a couple times as well."

Snape snorted in what might have passed as amusement if Harry thought the man actually laughed at any time at all. "I can imagine…though I'm not sure why you bothered," he looked at Harry like he was a new potion ingredient he wasn't quite sure what to do with. "I suppose you've also figured out what I am since my healer seems to already know…?"

Harry shrugged tiredly. "You saved my life…and without those memories you gave me before you passed out…Voldemort would probably still be running around killing people. We may still hate each other, but you deserve to be treated as anyone else walking through the doors of this hospital. Frankly, I don't care if you're a vampire, a werewolf, or a bloody pixie. I know not everyone has that opinion though clearly, so I made sure your healer swore to an oath of secrecy on top of his normal oaths after I saw your fangs emerge back in the shack when you were getting busy dying."

"About that…I don't remember what happened in the shack…after Nagini," Snape's brow furrowed as he tried to remember that day and failed. "I know you were there, and the snake bit me…but Healer Morris said I had very little venom in my system; it was mainly just the wounds on my neck and the blood loss coupled with the fact I hadn't ingested any blood in…well, I don't even remember. I know I felt like I was dying though…that can't be right," he motioned to the bandages covering the left side of his throat in frustration. "I don't remember what happened next."

Harry schooled his features to not show his relief at that pronouncement. "We'd been attacked by Nagini at Christmas," he started in on the story he'd concocted in hopes that Snape wouldn't actually remember since he'd been so out of it. He also made sure to look slightly away so hopefully the legilimens wouldn't cat the lie. "I gave you the anti-venom I took to carrying around with me after that and cast the only healing spells I knew. You gave me your memories about Dumbledore's death and what he'd told you about me needing to die…and then I left you. Er, sorry professor, but I hadn't seen the memories, and I didn't really know if you were on our side then or not, and things were very dire at the time if you remember."

"Then…why did you save me if you did not know I was on your side?" The man looked more confused than Harry had ever seen him. "You actually attempted to save a Death Eater who was clearly a vampire when you were uncertain if he was a spy or not?"

"Something never seemed right about you," he shrugged tiredly, not really knowing how to explain it. "Gut instinct if you will…I thought there must be more to the story, especially when you insisted I take your memories. The fact remains that I didn't know, and I wasn't going to let you die when you could have been on our side the whole time."

"How did you do it then? Dumbledore said you needed to die…obviously you found another way," Snape weakly motioned to the clearly alive teen. "I assume you ignored Dumbledore's recommendation on your mortality. It's not like you ever listened to anyone anyway."

"I didn't…I died," Harry smirked at him. "Luckily, it didn't stick though."

Snape stared at him, an unreadable expression on his face. "You will explain."

"No, I don't believe I have to," Harry shook his head and standing his ground on this one. Honestly, after all that had happened, Snape just didn't scare him anymore. Do his worst, but Harry couldn't bring himself to feel anything besides apathy and some measure of gratitude towards the man; he couldn't even bring himself to actively dislike him anymore. It all took too much effort. "You are currently not my professor since it's summer, and even then that's something I don't owe you even if you could order me to tell you."

"Yes, I guess you owe me nothing at all. And I'm no longer your professor in the slightest," Snape snorted with frustration and maybe a modicum of surprised respect in his eyes. "As I'm most likely off to Azkaban when I get out of this bed…"

"I told you, didn't I?" Harry looked at him, worried for how he'd react. "The trials have already started. Yours was over a week ago…you were pardoned."

"Excuse me?" Snape raised an eyebrow in shocked disbelief. "You lie…"

"Er…I may have had to show them a few of your memories…only a couple of the ones where you helped me or were talking to Dumbledore though, and I made sure it didn't get out that you are a vampire," Harry added quickly, hoping this tentative truce wasn't about to come to abrupt end. "And…I'm really sorry, but I couldn't talk them out of putting you on probation for a year."

Snape's hands tightened on the sheets over him, an expression Harry couldn't figure out on his face that was just too young and much more vulnerable than his older, weathered visage. "What form does this probation take?"

"A year of teaching at Hogwarts…Potions since Slughorn refused to return after the battle," Harry explained, steeling himself for an outburst. "And you know you can't keep taking those potions…they were killing you. There has to be another way."

The man sneered into the hospital room, but Harry was almost certain he caught an expression of both relief and fear in his former professor's eyes. "I may be able to rely on glamours if I can find one strong enough. I couldn't with Albus and the Dark Lord's skills in detecting magic, but it may be possible now. At least I won't have to deal with you and your dunderheaded friends for my one year," he cast something close to a smirk in Harry's direction.

"Er, actually…we were all invited back for an eighth year…I only know that Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy are all returning…Neville mentioned maybe going back since he didn't learn anything last year. I'm still thinking about it, but I'll probably end up going. I haven't heard from anyone else," Harry explained.

"Azkaban might have been preferable," Snape remarked in what Harry wondered might have been a joke…the man must be heavily medicated.

"Any chance you'll tell me how old you actually are or are you going to make we wait and see?" The teen countered with a grin.

Snape huffed a sigh. "I am thirty-eight…as to when I stopped aging, that is really none of your business."

That figured, Harry rolled his eyes. "Ok, well then, I need to leave," he said and stood, wanting to rest for a while before Ron and Hermione showed up and he had to act like he was fine and felt great. "I'll stop by tomorrow."

"Do not concern yourself for me…" Snape waved him off, obviously expecting the teen to not appear at his bedside ever again.

"I'll stop by tomorrow. I have to keep track of how old you are currently," he said more firmly but still with good humor. "Be good for your healer," he smirked at the man who glared imperiously at him as he left. Harry shook his head in surprise that he'd just had the most pleasant and least antagonistic conversation he'd ever had with Severus Snape…and he'd quite liked it all things considered.


Harry was so hungry! By the time lunch rolled around, all the queasiness was gone, and Harry just wanted to eat anything and everything. His friends looked at him in amusement while he rifled through the cabinets and added biscuits, crisps, and pickles to the tray Kreacher had made them while the elf glared at his interfering. "So, where are you going to start looking?" He asked while spearing a pickle with a fork to eat a bite of followed by some crisps.

"We'll check in with the ministry in Sydney first," Hermione said. "They might be able to give us some help. If not, we'll see if there's a way to research dentists in the country."

"How many dentists can there be, right?" Ron asked around a mouthful of roast beef sandwich. Hermione and Harry both just stared at him in amusement. He'd learn…they should probably just let him believe that for now.

"Have you decided about school?" Hermione asked the question she'd asked him every time she'd seen him since they learned of the possibility of an eighth year.

"I plan to go back," Harry said, too hungry to even swallow before answering with a mouthful of food. "The aurors wanted me to start right away, but I want to take some time and decide if that's even something I want to do."

"What do ya mean you might not wanna be an auror?" Ron actually put down his sandwich in shock to ask.

Harry sighed though, this time swallowing first since Hermione was giving him a death glare. "I don't know Ron…Like I said, I didn't really expect to still be alive right now. I have no actual plans…"

Hermione put a hand on Ron's shoulder to get him to back down. "Harry, that's perfectly fine, and we'll support you, even if you decide to not be an auror," she added with a glare at Ron. "The term is set to start on October 1st as long as repairs continue as they are. We'll be back right before then. Promise you'll let Molly and Arthur know if you need anything at all while we're gone? You can still owl us, but it'll take several days to reach us even with owl magic. Once we find a stable floo, we can check in and get you the information."

"Course I will," Harry nodded, not planning on reaching out unless things got incredibly worse though. "Besides, I'll keep busy. I'll go back to helping with repairs maybe, and I have to check in on Snape, and I'll need to replace most of my school things…"

"I don't know why you keep checking in on the greasy git," Ron grimaced and picked up his sandwich again.

Harry shrugged. Frankly he wasn't so sure himself. "He doesn't have anyone else. I don't either, so it's a bit like I can relate, you know?"

"You have us…" Hermione said sadly as she reached over to squeeze one of his hands.

"And for right now, he can have me," Harry squeezed the hand back with a thankful smile. "Then he'll get well, and we'll go back to actively hating each other, and all will be right with the world."

"Fine, but get more sleep, you look like death," Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry just smiled at him. "Oh, and Harry, Percy said to tell you he wants to talk…probably to apologize for being a git, at least I hope."

Harry frowned at that. Percy had actually already written him a letter to apologize way back during sixth year when everyone realized Harry hadn't been a lying sociopath. He hadn't made a big deal about it at the time since he rarely saw Percy in person, but he'd let it go long before the final battle. Why would he want to talk now?

"You sure? What did he say exactly?"

Ron shrugged. "Just to tell you he wanted to talk, and if you agreed to owl him. He's staying at the twins' flat right now."

"Not at the Burrow?" Harry was still really confused. He thought Molly had insisted all her kids stay at the Burrow, except Bill and Fleur who flat out refused.

"Things still seem a bit tense with him and Molly and Arthur," Hermione explained. "They've all made up, and he eats dinner there some, but he doesn't really hang around anyone besides the twins. I think he's helping out at their shop while Fred is recovering."

It only took another second for Harry before it sank in that Percy had seen him heal Fred. His heart dropped and it took everything he had to wipe all emotions off his face before his friends could see. Percy knew he was a creature…that's why he wanted to talk.

Now, Harry was planning to tell Ron and Hermione at some point once he was able to process everything and come to terms. He was certain they'd be fine with it. He was fairly positive Bill would be cool too since he married Fleur, but he couldn't be sure about any of the other Weasleys…especially Percy who wasn't known for his open-mindedness.

"Right…I'll get right on that then," he said, not meaning it one bit.


Harry was sitting in the kitchen with all the lights off when Kreacher walked in and snapped his fingers to light up the kitchen and start cooking breakfast. The elf blinked at his master a couple times. "Have you seen stranger things this time?" Harry asked around a mouthful of pickle with peanut butter on it. The teen was most definitely in tears as he ate the strangest combination of foods, not knowing why he had to eat or why he had to eat those specific things and feeling frantic that he just had to have it right then or he'd go insane.

Kreacher shrugged and pulled another jar of pickles out of the cabinet to replace the empty one in front of Harry. "I definitely have, Master Harry. You's made a mess of my kitchen though. You's should have woken your Kreacher."

Harry looked at his half-eaten sandwich of bananas, crisps, and cheese on a plate with the remnants of pickles and peanut butter beside the mug of hot chocolate that had a celery stick sticking out of it. "I'll clean it up, I promise," he said. "I was just so hungry and wanted salty and sweet and then things just started sounding good together. I don't know what's wrong with me Kreacher," he added quietly at the end, a touch of desperation creeping into his voice as he wiped the moisture from his eyes. "And why in Merlin's name I'm crying about all this is just ridiculous!"

"Kreacher will pick up ice cream today…that's the next logical craving in this mix," the elf motioned to the table. "When Mistress Walburga was pregnant with Master Regulus, she ate the pickles with the ice cream," he said with a fond touch to Regulus's locket he was still wearing.

Harry laughed loudly and almost hysterically. "I'm not pregnant, Kreacher. I'm a man if you haven't noticed."

"You's eating like it," he said with a snort as he started the kettle on the stove. "Kreacher knows wizards do not get pregnant, only witches, but what about whatever you's are? Do your kind get pregnant?"

"I haven't had sex with anyone…ever," Harry turned bright pink under Kreacher's intense searching glare. "Unless you can get pregnant from a few awkward snogs, I think I'm safe regardless of whatever creature I am."

"Basilisks do not reproduce but are created through magic; however, phoenixes do not need to have sex to procreate," Kreacher informed him. "They's capable all on their own since there are so few of them in the world. It was in those books you pulled."

"What?!" Harry jumped up and pushed the pickles away from him in horror. "Why didn't you mention this before?! How does one get pregnant all on their own?! What does that even mean?!"

"The master is a wizard first," Kreacher shrugged but with concern in his eyes. "Kreacher didn't think about it until now…but you're tired all the time, you said you's having strange dreams now, your magic is erratic, you were queasy, and now you're craving things…Mistress Walburga had many of those same symptoms. As for how, the book just said that magic determined when and if it happened."

"How do we check for that?" Harry lifted his shirt to stare at his stomach. He had put on a little weight recently, but he figured it was because Kreacher kept feeding him. Now that he thought about it, it was centered a little more around his middle than anywhere else though. Up until that point his muscles had been much more defined than before his change, even when he'd lost so much weight, now his stomach muscles were significantly less visible.

The elf shook his head slowly and patted Harry's hand. "You's call a healer…"

"Hell no!" Harry shook his head frantically. "I'll not be more of a freak than I already am!"

"Then Kreacher doesn't know…the master is not all human, and Kreacher knows nothing of your species…we must wait and see," the elf tried to soothe him.

Harry's face dropped in horror as a thought came to him. "Kreacher…where even would a baby come out?" He couldn't ask in more than a whisper.

Kreacher looked him up and down. "We's need to find a phoenix," he remarked, not knowing the answer to that either.

"I'll try to get in touch with Fawkes," Harry nodded frantically. He didn't know how to do that, but he'd sure as hell make sure he found a way. This could not be happening to him!

Immediately, he sent a patronus message, it was still more difficult than before he'd died, but now that his soul or magic was settling, whichever one, it was slightly easier. "Fawkes! Get your feathered arse to Grimmauld as fast as you can!" He growled at the stag patronus as it disappeared.

"Will that work?" Kreacher asked when the light dissipated.

"If it doesn't, I'll try an owl and then smoke signals if I have to!" Harry tried to calm himself down and stop thinking about maybe having a baby…or an egg…or what the hell was he carrying?!

A ball of flame appeared in a swirl of phoenix song. What before Harry would have just heard as beautiful music, now he could translate to Fawkes grumbling about being interrupted on his beach vacation and how a gorgeous thunderbird had actually been giving him the time of day before all this. "I'm sorry, but this is an emergency!" Harry broke into the musical griping.

"What'd you do this time?" Fawkes looked at him grumpily…as much as a bird could anyway.

"Well, it's good to know I can still understand you," Harry sighed, one problem down. "Now…why the hell didn't you mention that phoenixes could reproduce all on their own?!"

"What?" Fawkes stared at him steadily before flapping over to land on the table in front of Harry. "But…you're not a full phoenix…?"

Harry lifted his shirt slightly to show the small pudge around his middle. "Kreacher says I'm acting pregnant, and this pudge is a bit concerning…" He said almost hysterically.

A wave of magic hit him in a burst of phoenix song. Fawkes cocked his head and stared at the teen as the magic left him. "That's…interesting…"

"What's that mean?! Interesting good or interesting bad?!"

"That's a matter of perspective now, isn't it…I think we've found one of those unforeseen consequences to your changing," Fawkes bobbed his head in a nod. "Congratulations…Dad."

"What?! No! This can't be happening! How did it even happen?!" Harry started frantically pacing in the room, his breath coming in short, painful bursts as he clutched his chest.

"I take it Kreacher was right?" The elf actually had the audacity to look excited at the prospect.

Fawkes fluttered his wings in what Harry translated as a shrug. "It is very rare for a phoenix to reproduce, and we only do it when we are young. It's determined by magic and nothing else. You are very lucky to have been chosen."

"I don't call this lucky!" Harry sank into a chair, trying to slow his breathing and heartrate.

"Ok…so this is happening…" He sucked in deep breaths trying to calm himself and actually process what was going on.

"Yes, it is indeed," Fawkes shuffled over a little closer to look at the teen's stomach in almost awe. "I wonder…will the baby be phoenix, human, basilisk or some combination of the three."

"This is too much!" Harry put his head in his arms and just tried to keep breathing.

"Does the master even want children…?" Kreacher asked, looking in concern at the teen's distress.

Harry thought for a minute. It was a valid question, one which he'd never actually asked himself since he'd always thought he wouldn't live this long. "Yeah…I guess. I've always wanted a family, but I thought I'd be older, and there'd be someone else, you know? I didn't think it'd just be me…"

"Well, you have about a year to get used to it," Fawkes said wryly.

"Er…I haven't known very many pregnant people, but isn't it supposed to be about nine months for the baby to come out…and if I'm already showing, doesn't that mean it's already been a while?" Harry asked the room.

"Phoenixes lay their egg in just a little over two months," Kreacher added in, reciting from his research.

"Yes, your first rebirth and burst of magic is probably a component in this happening, so we could guess you are about a month along if we date it back to the battle. The changes in your body will start speeding up very quickly from here," Fawkes finished Kreacher's explanation. "The last month is quite drastic in the egg's development."

"You said a year though…?"

"Well, the egg doesn't hatch for about ten to twelve months after that…they take their sweet time to develop," the phoenix added. "You'll have to keep it warm and safe for that time."

"I don't have to sit on it do I?" Harry grimaced at that thought. He was not sitting on an egg for a year.

"Merlin, no!" Fawkes shook his head. "We phoenixes normally develop a pouch to carry it in, but no telling about you. You can probably put a warming charm on a bag to carry around if needed."

"Good…now…the most important question: where's this egg going to come out?" Harry looked the bird in the eyes seriously.

Very unhelpfully, Fawkes made his shrugging action again. "I was never blessed by magic with a child," he said a bit sadly. "I hear it's not pleasant though, and it usually triggers a burning day."

Harry blanched. That was not what he wanted to hear. Mention of the burning day brought up another concern he'd had since he woke up in the forest after the battle, a concern that might even be slightly more worrying than having an egg. "Fawkes…erm, just how long do phoenixes live anyway? Would I come back from another burning day?"

"We are immortal," he said with a cock of his feathered head. "We do not age past our first burning and rebirth."

"And basilisks are also immortal," Harry added with a sigh. "Please tell me…you don't think…?"

Fawkes studied him intently. "Raise your right sleeve," he suddenly said with a nod. Harry looked at him questioningly but did as he was told.

"Hmm, you still have scars…that one and the one on your head. Probably one on your chest from the last killing curse, right?" Fawkes asked as Harry nodded. "Right, so you didn't completely regenerate when you had a burning day. Only your magic and the recent injury that killed you regenerated. If you were a true phoenix, then you wouldn't have any scars at all now. Also, you regenerated as an adult instead of a child…"

Harry signed in relief. "Good, so I'm not immortal…"

"Actually, I think you still might be," Fawkes's head bobbed up and down, a gleam in his eyes. "While you may not be a full phoenix, you are half basilisk as well. They do not regenerate, but they heal quickly…as you have done since the battle."

"I'm also part human," he protested anxiously.

"Not much, Master," Kreacher cut in, following the one side of the conversation he could understand. "If you's able to bear an egg, then there is very little of your human part left."

"I agree with the elf," the bird added. "I'm sorry, you may never be a full phoenix, but I do think you are a new creature, a new immortal creature, one we haven't seen before. There is very little human left in you by what I see and feel from your magic."

"But…I don't want to live forever! I don't want to live past Ron and Hermione!" He gasped, falling into panic again. "Or you, Kreacher…"

The elf rolled his eyes and patted Harry's hand. "Us elveses live about a thousand years, and Kreacher is only sixty-three years old. If you's notice, your Kreacher has been looking younger since you moved into the house, it is our work and connection to our masters that gives us youth and long life. Kreacher spent too much time with no master…you's will keeps him a long time now though."

Harry took a little breath of relief. He had noticed that Kreacher was looking younger, but he'd assumed he was just healthier, not that he was actually aging backwards some. He still didn't want to live forever but knowing Kreacher and Fawkes would be around for a long time was slightly relieving.

"Besides, you might not live a long time with your luck," Fawkes tried to sound soothing, but it wasn't helping much. "Phoenixes can die, same as basilisks as you should know. You are only immortal until you are killed."

"And…how can I be killed then?" He asked, eyes wide in shock.

Fawkes shrugged unhelpfully. "Phoenixes tend to just fade away when they are ready to leave this life, but a basilisk can be mortally wounded. I would imagine you could regenerate from anything that left you a mostly intact body. I wouldn't try cutting your head off or anything like that since you don't regenerate fully. I'm sure it's beyond your body's ability to reattach a head."

"I can't even process this now…not and the fact that I am carrying an egg! A baby!" He shook his head, trying to clear it. It was all too much. Frankly, it was hitting him even harder than the knowledge he had been a horcrux had. Why did his luck translate to parts of other people somehow ending up inside of him?! At least this one was a baby and not a murdering psychopath's soul.

"Why don't you wait to deal with your mortality or lack thereof for another couple decades?" The phoenix suggested calmly. "When you are clearly younger than everyone you know, then deal with it. Now just focus on the hatchling. The egg is the most pressing, immortality will keep to be dealt with in the future."

"Right," Harry tried to push it aside, to not think about it along with all the other trauma he was steadfastly repressing. "Immortality will keep. Right, so you said more changes in this next month. What do I need to know?"

"You'll start to run a bit hotter and probably want your food more well done as this month passes," Fawkes stated in a lecturing tone. "Eat regularly, rest often, this will take a lot out of you since it'll go so quickly, and you aren't a full phoenix. I suggest investing in some large robes now since you're going to quickly grow out of what you have, or maybe some extension charms."

"You know any extension charms for my clothes?" Harry asked the elf with fear in his eyes at no longer being able to wear any of his clothes. He was not going to wear a large, floral maternity dress like his grade three teacher had worn when she was pregnant.

Kreacher nodded. "Yes, master. Kreacher also can glamour them a bit so you's not show as much too."

"Thank you," Harry breathed out. He didn't want to be stuck in the house for a whole month, not when there was so much he needed to do, and he was supposed to be visiting with Tonks and Teddy just later that day as well as checking in on Snape.

Fawkes nodded. "Right, so I have a thunderbird waiting for me on a beach. Call me when the egg is out!" He said before disappearing in flames.

"Wait?! You featherbrained bird! Get back here!" Harry yelled to the empty table.

Kreacher darkly chuckled. "We's need a nursery. Kreacher thinks Master Regulus's old room…"

"But…" Harry stuttered, his brain stopping as he finally processed that a living creature was actually going to come out of him. A child…his child. "But…we don't know if it'll be a phoenix or a human baby or a basilisk…"

"Or all three," Kreacher added unhelpfully but with glee. "Kreacher can still clear out the room though and paint the walls. Ooo, Kreacher hopes it's a girl!"

The little elf clapped his hands and disappeared in a pop, presumably to start clearing out Regulus's old room. Harry touched his stomach in stunned silence. There was a baby in there…in some form. Could he love it no matter what it was? He softly rubbed his belly and thought about what the baby could be like. It could be a little snake that could kill with a look or a bird that would sing and fly…or it could be a little green-eyed, pudgy baby.

He slowly let it sink in as a smile barely tugged at the corners of his mouth. It wasn't how he'd pictured a family, but it was a family. The baby was a part of him…and not even him and someone else. How that worked he had absolutely no clue, but it was a child, his child. Yes, whatever this baby turned out to be, human, bird, snake, or some combination, he could love it and be there for it and make sure it had a completely different childhood than he did. At least he now knew he was indestructible enough to be around for the baby for as long as he was needed. He'd make sure that it never felt like a freak and only felt that it was special and loved. Names…he'd think of names. He smiled. He'd need one for a girl and a boy and probably a few depending on species. He was very glad he had a year…it was going to take that long to get used to this and to come up with all the different names.


"You don't look as much like death, but you still look like shit," Snape snorted as Harry sank tiredly into the armchair by his bed. The man had been awake for a few weeks and Harry had visited every day. He'd also commented on Harry's appearance first thing every time. Apparently, it was tradition now. Harry noted the man looked around his own age now, maybe just a bit older and his skin was noticeably healthier. Frankly, he looked good even though he was still visibly unwell and injured.

"Thanks," Harry rolled his eyes, glad that Kreacher was good with extension and glamour charms because he was huge now. His stomach had gone from almost unnoticeable to a watermelon seemingly overnight. Kreacher thankfully assured him that there was a wonderful potion to get rid of stretch marks because he was certain they were going to be terrible. He'd been picturing a tiny egg coming out of him, apparently since he was bigger than a normal phoenix, the egg was going to be proportional.

"They say anything about when you can get out of here yet?"

"Tired of visiting, Potter?" Snape grumbled, very much looking like he'd like nothing better than to leave the depressing hospital. "You do not need to come here every day. You are under no obligation to be here at all. It's not like either of us get any enjoyment from these little visits of yours," he sneered.

Harry could tell it is was just a defense mechanism…at least he thought so. There was a bit of fear behind the man's eyes. He needed these visits, especially since Harry knew he was the only one to visit besides Draco Malfoy occasionally, who it sounded like was the only other person Snape had let in on the secret as to what he was, and that was probably only because he needed someone to pick him up clothes to change out of the horrible hospital gowns.

McGonagall had tried to visit, but Snape's healer had denied her access since the man couldn't take an aging potion or cast a glamour in his state, and Snape didn't want her to know he was a vampire. It sounded like the new headmistress was probably looking to talk about the upcoming term, or maybe apologize for believing her colleague to be a murderous bastard. Harry was angry for Snape that he was both required to teach and demoted back to professor from headmaster. Snape himself just sneered and said it was understandable when Harry brought it up though.

Regardless, Harry felt somewhat responsible for the man for some strange reason, and even Snape's insults and barbs no longer got to him now that they were more equals than before, and now that he felt he had so much more in his life…like the new life coming into it soon. So, it had gotten to where he actually did enjoy his visits on some strange level. It also didn't hurt that the man looked like a teenager now, so the sneers were much less impressive coming from the impossibly young face.

"It's routine…I like my routines," Harry shrugged, knowing at this point not to say any of what he'd been thinking. "So…any updates?" The man was looking generally better even if his neck was still completely covered in bandages. "You going to be getting any younger? I think I might be older than you soon."

Snape sneered at him. "For your information, I was turned when I was nineteen. This is as young as I'm getting, thank Merlin! As for when I can leave, they say a couple weeks still," the man sighed, only a small hint of relief showing in his eyes. "They're starting me on physical therapy in a few days to get me out of this bed and moving again. Everyone needs me standing to teach the dunderheads this year," he grimaced at the end at the new humiliation he'd have to face with physical therapy.

"At least you don't have to teach them, spy on an insane man, and fight in a war at the same time now. Plus, you won't be slowing poisoning yourself to death with all those potions, neither me nor Healer Morris will let you," Harry shrugged at the man's glare and shifted, feeling uncomfortable no matter what position he was in at this point. He did the math, and the egg would definitely be out before Snape was released. He didn't know why that mattered to him, but it was how he measured time now; before the egg was out and after.

"Them? Have you decided not to return this term?" Snape asked, and Harry really could not tell if he was glad for the thought or upset. "You must not be returning because you're the epitome of dunderhead and a hazard around potions."

Harry and Kreacher had actually had a very long discussion about this, weighing the pros and cons of moving back to the castle. The egg wouldn't hatch until the next summer, so they finally decided that he should finish school before becoming an official parent. He needed a good job if he was going to be a single parent. Yes, he wasn't hurting for money at all right then, but kids were expensive…well maybe not if it turned out to be fully phoenix or basilisk, but with Harry's current size, it was more likely a combination than fully one creature. It would be difficult to go a year carrying around an egg and protecting it without anyone catching on…but he thought he could figure it out with some modifications and safeguards.

"No, I'll be there. I'm still planning on it, but things are a bit complicated…" he said vaguely, meaning the egg, but also everything else that was going on. "I spoke to McGonagall and they're not really sure what to do with the eighth years. This has never happened in the school's history on such a large scale, and the fact we're all adults and war veterans with varying degrees of injury and trauma make it even more complicated. Most need to leave almost weekly for various appointments with healers, have limitations on the amount of stairs they can climb, or need a private room, and I even heard that Ernie McMillan and Hannah Abbot got married."

"I thought Abbot liked Longbottom?" Snape mused, thinking over the complications these factors made in housing and with the school rules.

"Er, maybe sixth year, but Neville is with Luna now and Hannah had already started dating Ernie before sixth year ended," Harry explained with a smile growing on his face. "How do you know the gossip…do you actually follow the teen drama?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "I'm a spy…I know all the gossip and rumors. Unfortunately, I was a bit distracted last year with keeping you alive, keeping the Carrows from seriously harming anyone, and keeping the Dark Lord away from the school…among everything else."

Harry gave him a cheeky grin; this was going to be great. "So…you do know all the good gossip?"

"Indeed," he didn't even try to deny it. "Are you back with the Weasley girl?" Snape offered as part of his knowledge.

"Er, no…she's with Dean Thomas, I think," Harry shrugged awkwardly. "We talked at the beginning of the summer, and I'm too much of a mess currently. She deserves someone that'll focus on her and not be as much of a dumpster fire as I am right now."

"Hmm," Snape nodded like something was confirmed. "So, what are you seeing a healer for then?"

"What?" Harry didn't follow the jump in subjects and moved his hands farther from his stomach to hopefully not draw any attention to the glamour.

Snape heaved an irritated sigh. "You are most certainly not traveling to St. Mungo's every day just to see me. I'd assumed someone else was here as well, especially as you commented that many of your year would need to leave the castle for healers' appointments. As you commented and never explained when I first woke up…you died. There must be some residual damage from that or from something else in the battle or your year on the run. Paired with your comment about Ms. Weasley, obviously you are here for your own appointments."

Harry knew he couldn't lie to the man. Snape had some sort of passive legilimency he was always using and just seemed to know when Harry wasn't telling the truth…or maybe it was a vampire thing, he'd have to look into that. He also knew that if he were to lie now, whatever bridge they'd been building since Snape had woken up would be destroyed. So, the truth, but very carefully edited with just the right details.

"I'm not seeing a healer," Harry said slowly and deliberately. "There has been some residual damage, for instance, my magic has been a bit wonky, but I'm handling it on my own."

"That seems…reckless. A mind healer then?" Snape raised a disbelieving or maybe shocked eyebrow.

Harry snorted. "That'd probably be a good idea, but I don't think any of them could be objective right now with all the hype around me."

"Why are you here then…?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "To see you, you git," he sighed.

"Mr. Snape, how are we today?" The man's healer walked into the room in time to save Snape from dying from shock at that pronouncement.

"Er, I'll go and leave you to it," Harry said and tried to stand as normally as possible even though that was a bit impossible in his current state of not really being able to see his feet anymore when the glamour was gone.

"What is wrong with you, Mr. Potter? Are you unwell?" The healer, an older man who seemed to Harry like a cross between Snape himself and McGonagall scarily enough, looked at the teen with searching eyes over his wire-rimmed spectacles.

"Nothing Healer Morris. I just have some sore muscles from helping with the rebuilding is all," Harry commented, carefully avoiding looking in Snape's direction so he'd hopefully not catch the lie. Harry hadn't been helping with the rebuilding since before Snape had even woken up.

"Will we see you tomorrow?" The healer asked in clear concern as Snape glared at his student in suspicion.

"I'll be here…" Harry paused and reminded himself not to rub at the ache in his lower back. The egg should have another week or so, but Kreacher's guess was that it could really come any day now. He might not actually be able to be there. "Erm, I have some things coming up. If I miss a day or two, I'll be back."

"I have no need for a babysitter, Potter," The potion master crossed his arms and glared darkly, looking more petulant than scary with his bandages and young face.

"Still…don't worry if you don't see me for a couple days," he shrugged.

"Why would I worry?" The man scoffed, but Harry was already walking out the door.


Up Next: Wherein Harry lays an egg...

A/N: Any suggestions for names?