A/N: So, bad news… I lost it! I had a little scrap of paper on which I wrote every idea that came to me for this story, quotes I think of that I want to incorporate, and random words… But it's gone! I don't know what happened to it. It was on my desk, then I sat down to write this and I can't find it.  I remember the basic outline of where I'm going, but all the little things that I wrote down cuz I knew I'd forget them, I forgot! Crap. Sad… But anyway, I will write this chapter without my little paper and try to do the best I can, though this is very weird for me. My little white paper is my comfort blanket, it tells me what to do, and it's gone! Yes, I am aware that I am very pathetic, but I'm okay with that.

Anywho, on with the show!

Few weeks later I wrote part of it then, and now I shall continue. And good news! I found my paper! Cleaning one's room can be useful.

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognize I do not own.

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"Whatever. There's 19 days left. How am I supposed to pretend that everything is all right when even standing up is a draining activity? I know the dreams won't go away, but at least I'll be stronger to fight them. Sir, I want to do this." He emphasized the last sentence and Snape knew there was no talking him out of this.

"All right. Meet me in my office this evening. The sooner, the better."

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"Are you quite sure that you are ready for this?" Snape asked for the fourth time since Harry had come down to his office.

"Yes, I'm sure." Harry replied once again—and he was. He had spent the time since "the talk" in his dormitory preparing. He had packed up all of his stuff to make it appear as if he had never been there in case he didn't awaken by the time school started. He'd then shrunk it and taken it with him to the dungeons.

He had also taken the time to write a few letters, just in case this didn't turn out favorably. He had written one to each Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Dumbledore, explaining why he had made this decision and for those who knew nothing of the situation, he explained it briefly to them, figuring that if he d—well, if something happened, it wouldn't hurt that they knew the truth. Finally, he had written on to Snape, thanking him for everything he had done for Harry. Writing the letters felt oddly like writing a suicide note. Thinking that had made Harry even more ashamed at what he had almost done earlier.

"Sir?" Snape looked up from the section in the book about this spell that he had so far reread twice since Harry came to his office. "Sir, I was wondering if—" Harry tried to find the right words to ask him this, but finally he gave up. "Sir, if I die, will you give them these letters?" He held them out for his Professor.

At first Harry thought the man might refuse, but he just nodded, took them and slipped them into a pocket in his cloak. "All right, so let us go over this again, there will be a monitoring spell on you the whole time that will alert me if there are any changes. When I have to leave the grounds I will transfer the spell to alert Dumbledore…."

Harry stopped paying complete attention. This was the third time he'd been told this. The man looked nervous; maybe he repeated himself when he got nervous. There would also be a spell that automatically fed him, kept him hydrated, kept his muscles from weakening too much, and took care of other needs… He would be in a bed in a little room off of Snape's office so he could monitor him… Snape would tell Dumbledore how to get in—the wall appeared to be solid—in case something happened to Snape before Harry awoke… Snape went on explaining the details.

After the first time Snape had told him this, Harry realized that he had only left one thing unmentioned, so he asked him. What would happen to him if he never woke up? How long would they wait? Would they just leave him there for years, lying in a room adjacent to Snape's office? Unfortunately, Snape's only reply was, "I do not know. I am merely hoping that I never have to make such a decision."

Snape again asked him if he was ready. Harry nodded and they went into the adjacent room and Harry lay down in the bed. "Thank you, Sir." He said as Snape raised his wand.

The man nodded. "Hopefully, you shall see me again soon, Harry." He then raised his wand and began murmuring in Latin. Harry couldn't tell if it was separate words or not because they it seemed to be just a string of letters and sounds. He felt himself drifting off into sleep and for the first time in many weeks; he welcomed it.

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As he finished the spell and dropped his wand, Snape sighed. Please, Merlin, let this work. He cast the monitoring spell and the nourishment spell then sat back in the chair by the bedside. So far, everything appeared to be working as it should. His heart rate was about 5, which is where it ought to have been.

He reached into his pocket and took out the letters the boy had handed him. As expected, he had written to Granger and the Weasleys, and one to Dumbledore as well. When he flipped to the last envelope he was, however, surprised to see his own name written there. What had the boy written to him? He was tempted to read it now, but he knew it was wrong. He was not meant to see it unless the boy died. A more talented wizard would have likely put a charm on it to prevent one from reading it until they died, but the boy undoubtedly didn't know any such charm. He put the letters back into his pocket.

He sat there for a while, thinking about what he had just done to the boy. Through the spell he had put the boy an inch away from death. The boy had asked an important question earlier; what would happen if he never woke up? At what point could they give up on him? The book said that on occasion people didn't wake until years later. Snape had thought the spell would be good for the boy to catch up on rest from the past couple months, but what about from before the dreams began? When he came to the castle he had already looked exhausted. According to Dumbledore, the boy had always had nightmares and Black dying a few months ago probably didn't help things. Surely the boy would need a lot of rest to make up for lost time.

Snape jerked slightly as realization dawned on him. He never should have done this. The boy could take months or years to become fully rested. He would miss out on that much of his life; he could miss the rest of his education at Hogwarts. If he slept for a few years, the wizarding world could be completely different. By that time Voldemort might be defeated, or—Merlin forbid—might have defeated the light side. What was he thinking doing this to the boy?

He had been so desperate to find a way to help the boy that he'd jumped at the first solution. What if he found a cure tomorrow? It would be too late; the boy would already be in the coma and there was no way to wake him up. But the boy had wanted to do it, had been desperate in fact. Snape took the letter back out of his pocket and turned it over in his hands a few times. If he did wake up, he never had to know that he'd read it. Snape battled with himself for a few more minutes before finally giving in and carefully opening the envelope. He read:

Dear Professor Snape,

If you are reading this, then the spell didn't work and I am already gone. I just wanted to let you know that I am okay with it and I don't blame you for this at all, so please don't let Ron or Hermione do so either. I'm sure they will try but I told them in their letters that this was entirely my decision.

I just wanted to thank you. You have done so much for me over the years and, even though we never exactly got along, I do appreciate what you've done. The next part was scratched out but Snape was able to make out the words. Even my first year here when you hated me, I mean, not that you don't hate me now. I don't think you do, but—. The rest of the writing was more legible. Ever since I first came to Hogwarts you have been looking out for me, even when I didn't know it. I'm sorry that it took us until now to come to an understanding. Well, not really understanding, more like, well—. You know, the other letters were much easier to write. I think I will stop rambling now.

Hopefully you will never have to read this and I am wasting my time by writing it, but if not… well at least I'm not in pain any longer.

Thank you again for everything, Sir.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Snape looked up from the letter and sighed. It greatly resembled the boy's potions essays: a bunch of rambling and crossed out sentences then a quick conclusion.

The professor sat there for many hours, watching over the boy so close to death, hating more than anything the feeling of helplessness he felt.

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A few weeks later found Snape in the same position by the boy's side. He had taken to bringing his work into the small room, grading papers while he waited for any change. He had continued his research to find a cure for the boy for when he woke up but time had become limited when the students had arrived, filling the once-silent halls with laughter and smiles at seeing their friends after the long summer.

As Snape had sat at the staff table during the opening feast he couldn't help but notice that two of the students were not joining in the hurrahs and while he watched the two of them scan the room frantically for their friend his mind went back to the boy lying in the dungeons. As soon as the feast was over he watched as the Weasley boy led his classmates up to the Gryffindor tower while the Granger girl nearly ran towards Dumbledore's office in search of answers.

The story they were told was that Harry had fallen ill during the summer and would be away for a while in a safe place to recuperate. Snape thought it had fooled Mr. Weasley, but the Granger girl had undoubtedly seen through the lie. As long as she had not discussed the matter with anyone they would have been all right. However as the days passed Snape could see that she was openly questioning the validity of the story. Stupid girl, she should know when to keep her mouth shut. He looked at his watch and realized that the girl would be here any moment for the detention he had given her for answering too many questions in class. He had hoped Dumbledore would speak to her about keeping quiet about her suspicions, but as he obviously had not Snape figured he would set her straight. It would not do for more people to question where Harry was.

As he stalked into the classroom from his office the girl entered from across the classroom and quietly walked to the front. "Come." He ordered the girl as he walked back towards his office. He paused in the doorway and pulled his wand. He quickly placed silencing and warding charms on the classroom and, once they had both sat down in his office he warded it as well.

The girl looked confused and a little frightened at this. "Sir? What are—" Her voice shook a little.

"Quiet." Snape interrupted her. He figured the best way to tell her was directly. "Now, Miss Granger, I must insist that you terminate your inquiries into Mr. Potter's location or status."

"You know where he is, Sir? Where is he? What's wrong with him? Why can't we contact him? He could at least send us a letter. I realize that owl mail would be highly dangerous, but somebody must be with him that could get letters to or from him." She sounded desperate, but she must be incredibly foolish to think that if Dumbledore had not given her any answers, he would. "It isn't true, is it?" She asked. "The whole story about him getting ill? If it were true then you wouldn't care if I announced my suspicions to the entire Great Hall during dinnertime. But everybody is supposed to think that and since you are worried that people might start thinking otherwise, it must not be true. I was right all along!" She paused to take a couple breaths and then continued. "Please, Sir. What's wrong with him? Is he all right?" While during the rest of her soliloquy she had sounded analytical and calculating, at the end all Snape could see in her was worry.

Harry was lucky to have a friend like her that cared so much for him that she would practically demand answers from her most despised professor. Part of him almost wanted to tell her that the friend she was so concerned about was lying merely three meters away. Snape sighed.

"Please, Sir," the girl began, "Please, just tell me if he's alright." She looked on the verge of tears as her eyes pleaded with him to say that her friend was fine.

Snape considered his options. He should tell the girl that Harry was all right and she need not worry about him. That would be the most strategic move and a few months ago he wouldn't have hesitated to do just that. Something held him back though and he dropped his eyes to the desk. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he had begun to care about the boy over the past months and lying to his friend about his condition just seemed, well, wrong. What is the matter with me? Snape thought. This should not be that hard! Tell her that he is fine and get on with your night! Snape opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again.

"Oh, God." The girl whispered. "He's not." Snape looked up and noticed there were tears streaming down her face. "He's dead, isn't he?" She continued in a whisper. Snape had been slightly suspicious that she had been playing him from the start—she had talked so loudly and openly about her suspicions from the start, as if asking somebody to tell her to shut up. And once he had done so, she confirmed that the story was false. This could all be part of her plan. However as Snape looked at her face he knew the anguish he saw there was not an act. She truly thought her friend was dead.

Snape sighed again. Even if this was all part of her plan, he couldn't let her think Harry was dead. "No, Ms. Granger, he is not."

"But he's dying, isn't he? Otherwise you wouldn't look so grim." Damn girl, she was too observant. The truth was, Harry was close to dying. Even if he awoke, he would be in the same position as before—in constant, energy-sucking pain. He wasn't any closer to finding a solution and he had already read all of the books he could find on the subject and—

"Sir, is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?" she cried.

…and maybe what he needed was new eyes looking at the task. Perhaps this was the solution. He hadn't seen any answers in the books, but maybe she would. Though he would never admit it, she had on occasion written in her essays something that Snape had never thought of before, whether it had been a new application for which a specific potion could be used or what would happen if a potion ingredient were substituted for another. On all of these occasions he had marked her down for speculating in an essay that was supposed to be factual, but he had always tested out her suggestions and they normally seemed to work. This had always irritated him to no end, but that type of thinking would be useful on a problem such as Harry's for which there was no precedent.

Dumbledore would kill him if he found out about this, but Snape didn't see any other way. Though he would never admit defeat, he had given up on finding a solution and was now only rereading the books to make himself feel like he was doing something useful—and to give Harry hope.

"Perhaps there is, Ms. Granger."

She looked stunned at his answer. "Really, Sir?" she asked.

"I make no promises, but I will allow you to try. However you will speak of it to nobody." Snape began.

"No, of course not. I swear I won't." She said eagerly.

"While I am sure your loyalty to Mr. Potter is undying, I am not concerned that you will accidentally let it slip in conversation with one of your classmates. I am thinking in the case of torture. Eventually the Dark Lord will find out that Mr. Potter is not in school and begin looking for him. If anyone begins to suspect that you know where he is, your life could be in danger, as well as Mr. Potters. The Dark Lord has ways on finding out information."

"I understand, what's the plan, Sir?" the girl asked bravely.

"I will place a charm on you that prohibits you from speaking of this to anyone except me. It is like the fidelus charm in a way."

"Alright, what do you need from me to do it?"

"Normally nothing, however in the case of the previously mentioned situation, the Dark Lord would undoubtedly realize you were under the charm and he has ways of tracing the charm to see whose wand cast it—"

"And that would lead back to you, which would get you killed as well as me. Can he tell who cast the spell or just the wand it came from?"

"Just the wand."

She pulled her wand out and held it out for him to take. As he took it she said, "Perfect, now he would only see that the spell came from my wand so he will have no idea who else knows about Harry."

She really is a rather bright girl. Snape thought as he raised the wand to the girl and began the charm.

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A/N: Sorry, I think this is shorter than other chapters. I dunno why, but this chapter wasn't working for me, normally they kind of write themselves, but this one took three tries to get it done. Sorry if it sucks, let me know if it does and I will try to fix it. And FYI, school started back up so now I will have even less time to write. But I am taking a Psychology class, so maybe that will help me to get into my characters' heads. I dunno. We shall see.

As always, PLEASE REVIEW! Seriously, it does make me very very very happy to know that there is someone reading this.

-PenguinLuvr