AUTHOR'S NOTES: In this rewrite I want to keep the relationship with Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley although in this version Draco will be taking a different approach with courting Ginny.

CHAPTER 3

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was a buzz with conversation and rumors when Harry and his friends finally sat down at the Gryffindor table. Harry had just wanted to go to bed, but Hermione and the Weasleys insisted he should at least try to eat something. As Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, it seemed as though everyone in the room knew about his condition, either because they'd heard Malfoy earlier or—in the case of the muggleborns—had read about the car accident in the local muggle newspapers.

There were a lot of people watching Harry and as he subtly looked around he noticed that a lot of the stares came from the girls.

"Ginny, why are all the girls staring at me?" Harry asked as Dumbledore stood, preparing to make his start of term speech.

"No idea," Ginny, said, exchanging a look with Hermione before both girls started giggling.

But when Harry gave Hermione a puzzled look, she just gave him a warm smile and an 'I'll explain later' wave.

"As many of you know," Dumbledore was saying to the students. "We once again welcome a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Harry turned his attention to the staff table and was surprised and delighted to see Nymphadora Tonks sitting next to Hagrid. "Please welcome Professor Tonks."

Tonks stood, accidentally knocking her goblet over which was thankfully empty.

After a few notices including mention of Quidditch try-outs, the platters of food appeared and although he didn't feel hungry, Harry still took a roll and a small helping of mashed potatoes.

xxxxxx

After dinner, before Harry headed out of the Great Hall and up to Gryffindor Tower, he heard Dumbledore call his name. Heading over to the staff table, Dumbledore pulled Harry aside and said, "I have arranged for you to have a private suite this year, Harry." At Harry's confused look, the headmaster explained. "I thought it the best way to allow you a little privacy given what has happened to you this past summer. And this way you won't need to come to the Hospital Wing for the remainder of your treatments. Also, I would like you to start coming to my office on Saturday evenings for private lessons a bit later in the year."

"Where is this private room, sir?" Harry asked.

As Tonks started to head past them, Dumbledore smiled as he called out to her. "Oh, Nymphadora…"

Tonks looked like she was trying not to react to the use of her first name but her pink hair quickly changed to bright red. "Yes, sir?"

"Would you be so kind as to show Harry the room I have arranged for him?" Dumbledore asked, politely.

"Sure!" Tonks replied, brightly as she smiled at Harry. "Wait till you see it!" She said, heading out of the Great Hall with Harry in tow. They took a few shortcuts and finally arrived at Gryffindor Tower. Once in the common room, Tonks led Harry to a tapestry on the wall of a dog, a stag, and a wolf gathered around a willow. "Sirius came up with this bit," Tonks explained, grinning. "He also said you'd know how to get in. 'Like closing the Map', he said."

Harry nodded knowingly and raised his wand, tapping the cloth. "Mischief managed," he said, clearly.

The stag bowed its head before running into the tree followed by the dog and wolf. Then the tapestry pulled aside, revealing a doorway. Harry limped inside and torches sprang to life, lighting a pleasant room decorated in Gryffindor colors. A desk was in a corner and there were a few armchairs flanking a stone fireplace on one side of the room while a four poster bed stood on the other side. "This is… It's wonderful," Harry said, looking at Tonks. "I love it. Thank you."

"If you want to talk to Sirius," Tonks added, nodding at the desk. "There's a gift from him in the desk drawer."

"My trunk and everything?" Harry asked, walking towards the bed.

Tonks pointed to the end of the bed. "There at the foot of the bed."

Harry nodded and turned to Tonks. "Thanks again. And tell Dumbledore thanks as well."

"Sure thing, Harry," she replied, leaving the room. "See you tomorrow in class."

"Er…" Harry looked away as he thought about tomorrow.

Tonks seemed to realize what she'd said and frowned slightly. "Sorry, Harry.

"It's fine," Harry said, quietly, before saying good night and went to his trunk and pulled pajamas out before changing out of his school uniform and getting ready for bed.

Petunia Dursley stood in Vernon's hospital room and tried to brace herself for the screaming match ahead.

Vernon was awake.

And he'd just been handed the divorce papers.

"What the hell is this?" Vernon snapped, reading over the document, glaring at his wife.

"You almost killed our son," Petunia said, calmly, yet firmly. "You were more concerned with your next drink than the life of our own child. And what you did to Harry—"

"Who gives a damn about that freaky brat!" Vernon said, coldly. "The boy's nothing but trouble."

"I care about him," Petunia replied. "I care about him because, like it or not, he is my nephew. He's Lily's son, and it's time I started treating him like what he is: my family."

"I'll fight you for custody of Dudley," Vernon said, trying to get Petunia to drop the matter. "You want the brat, fine. But Dudley's coming with me."

Petunia held out a second document, glaring back at Vernon. "I've already been given sole custody of Dudley… and Harry. And I get the house as well."

Vernon lunged at his wife but a nurse quickly stepped in as Petunia quickly backed up against the wall.

"I need a sedative STAT!" The nurse screamed as she tried to keep Vernon Dursley in bed. Three orderlies grabbed the violent man and another nurse quickly injected him with a sedative. After a while, Vernon stopped struggling and went limp.

"When he comes to," Petunia said, trying to control her heart rate. "…tell him if he signs the divorce papers I won't personally press assault and abuse charges." Turning, she left the room and headed back home to Privet Drive.

The next morning, after using the bathroom, Harry started to put on his prosthetic when he heard knocking coming from the entrance to the room. "Come in," he said, hesitantly.

The tapestry moved to the side and a tall witch with long brown hair pulled back in a braid entered the room with a medical bag and a case approximately 4 feet long. "Morning, Harry," she said, with a light smile. Coming in and setting the case and bag on the desk nearby, she turned to Harry before she went on. "I'm Dr. Anna Rion. Yes, I am a witch, but the past 10 years I've been working as a muggle doctor." Pulling out her wand, she opened up the medical bag and withdrew a full-size IV stand.

Realizing what Anna Rion was there for, Harry set the prosthetic aside and made sure he was settled comfortably on the bed as Anna set up the IV stand next to the bed before grabbing the large case and bringing it over to the bed before opening it. The prosthetic leg in the case was plastic at the top where Harry would put what was left of his leg but the rest of the prosthetic was metal. "Dr. Rion?" Harry asked, a little puzzled.

"The old, plastic models aren't really good for anything," Anna explained as she removed the new leg from the case along with a nylon sock and a silicone liner with a small peg at the end. "This model will give you more mobility. There are also cushioning charms to make it more comfortable."

Harry just nodded as Anna showed him how to put on and take off the new prosthetic. In truth he was grateful that it would be easier for him to walk but right now he didn't really want to walk anywhere. He hated feeling like he was going to pass out all the time.

"Harry?" Anna said, looking concerned as she connected the IV to Harry's port. "You okay?"

"Tired," Harry muttered, leaning back against his pillows and wishing he could actually get a good night's sleep for once.

Anna studied Harry for a moment and then pulled a syringe out of her bag. "Harry, I want to run some blood tests. You might be developing a severe case of anemia."

"O-okay," Harry said, hesitantly. As he watched Anna drawing his blood, he asked, "If I am anemic?"

Anna put the blood vial back in her bag and replied, "If the anemia isn't too bad we'll start you on iron supplements. If it's more serious then we'll have to start you on packed red cell transfusions in addition to the chemotherapy treatments."

Harry let out a long sigh as he titled his head back. "Wonderful," he said, dejectedly.

As she packed up her things, Anna gave Harry a sympathetic look. "No one ever said this would be easy, Harry." After a moment, she sat on the edge on the bed and waited until Harry looked at her. "When I was at Hogwarts, I was friends with a boy who had cancer. Chemotherapy wasn't as advanced back then so it was even harder on him than it is on you."

"Is he still alive?" Harry asked, curiously.

Anna sighed and shook her head. "No, he was… He was killed by Voldemort about 15 years ago."

"He didn't die of cancer?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling more optimistic about his condition.

Anna sat up a bit as she replied, "No. He'd been in remission for about 18 years when he died." She debated telling Harry the whole truth but wondered if Harry was up to hearing the news. On the other hand, Harry knew almost nothing about his family's past… "Harry…"

Harry could hear in Anna's voice that what she was about to tell him would be very personal. But eager for any sort of distraction, he asked, "What was your friend's name?"

"It was your father, Harry," Anna replied, simply.

"My dad had cancer?" Harry asked in disbelief. "So… I might have gotten sick because of him?"

Anna hesitated but eventually she nodded. "There's a higher risk of cancer if there's a family history."

Looking at the bags of drugs and potions hanging from the IV, Harry thought of another question. "How many rounds of chemo did Dad have to go through?"

"Harry, you can't compare your case with your father's," Anna told Harry. But seeing that the teenager was waiting for an answer to his question, she said, "4 rounds of chemo. James spent nearly his entire 2nd year in St. Mungo's."

Harry didn't know what to say to that and fell silent as he lay on his bed, his mind swirling with his thoughts.

Draco Malfoy was running late for class.

Not that he really cared about such things, but it was Transfiguration and he knew McGonagall would throw his arse in detention no matter what excuse he gave her.

Rounding the corner, his foot caught on something and he suddenly pitched forward, landing flat on his face, feeling the air go out of his lungs. Groaning as he rolled onto his back, he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his right knee as it collided with something. Looking up, he blinked when he saw innocent, unassuming, meek Ginny Weasley standing over him. "Bloody hell," Draco gasped, painfully, trying to recover from getting the wind knocked out of him.

"Stay down," Ginny told Malfoy sharply as he started to sit up.

Draco saw the youngest Weasley go for her wand and he put his hands up in surrender. No sense in inviting trouble. Moving into a sitting position, he sighed. "I suppose that was payback for tripping Potter the other day?" Looking around the empty hallway, he was surprised that the youngest Weasley had no back-up.

"Here's the deal, Malfoy," Ginny snapped, itching to use a few curses she'd learned from Moody over the summer. "You don't provoke Harry. You don't make fun of him. You leave Harry, Hermione Granger, as well as me and my family alone this year."

While agreeing to anything a Weasley said wasn't in his nature, Draco could tell that right now Ginny was ready and—more importantly—willing to hurt him. "And why exactly would I do that?" When Ginny didn't reply, Draco studied her. Seeing that Ginny didn't look like she was going to immediately curse him, he slowly started getting to his feet, not making any sudden moves—like going for his wand—just in case Ginny got an itchy trigger-finger. "What's going on, Weasley? Since when does Potter need you to back him up?"

Ginny was reluctant to tell Draco the truth. Odds were good the self-proclaimed Slytherin Prince would say something snide about Harry's situation and then proceed to tell everyone in the school. But another part of her—a part that always held the impossible notion that all Draco Malfoy needed was for someone to break down the beliefs his parents had built up in him—wanted to tell him the truth, hoping that the news would start crumbling the wall.

Lowering her wand, Ginny looked Draco in the eye and said, "Harry's sick. Really sick. He's already lost his leg because of it."

Draco didn't know of any wizarding diseases that necessitated amputation of a limb, but he knew of a muggle disease that fit. Realizing what Ginny was saying, Draco said, "Potter's got cancer?" When Ginny nodded, Draco sighed, trying not to sound annoyed. The last thing he wanted to do was be nice to Weasley and her friends and family—it just wasn't in his nature, after all—but even he wouldn't stoop so low as to attack someone with cancer. "So I presume he won't be playing Quidditch this term," Draco said, thinking.

Ginny felt her temper rise and she slapped Draco hard in the face before raising her wand again. "Is that all you care about?" she snapped, angrily.

Draco put both hands up and took a step back from Ginny. "It was just a query," Draco insisted, defensively. "I'm sure you don't care about my opinion, but personally I'm hoping you're the one to replace Potter."

Ginny's eyes narrowed and she lowered her wand slightly. "And why is that, Malfoy?"

Slowly lowering his hands, Draco smirked as he replied, "Because you and Potter are probably the only damned decent Seekers in Gryffindor." Catching Ginny's look of 'how do you know that?', Draco added, "I've watched team tryouts every year. Always good to investigate your competition, after all." After a moment, he took a step towards Ginny, pleased when she once again raised her wand. Smiling, he said, "If Harry's grounded this term, playing against you is the next best thing." Draco cautiously took another step towards Ginny and leaned close to her.

Ginny could feel Draco's breath on her neck and she tried to fight the goosebumps rising on her skin. Every instinct in her wanted to push Malfoy away or use her wand on him. Draco was going to kiss her right here in the hallway. Her heart started pounding and she could almost feel Draco's lips on her cheek. Closing her eyes she almost stopped breathing when Draco whispered three words in her ear.

"Good luck, Ginny," Draco said, softly and before Ginny had opened her eyes again, he'd resumed his route to Transfiguration, smiling to himself as he realized that—for once—he wouldn't mind taking the detention.

xxxxxxxx

During her free period and instead of heading to the library to start on her assignments, Hermione headed up to Gryffindor Tower and found Harry asleep. Seeing Dr. Anna Rion, Hermione asked, "How's Harry?"

"Resting," Anna said, quietly as she disconnected the IV from Harry's central line and after packing everything up she turned to Hermione. "Severus Snape gave me a few potions to add to Harry's chemo treatments. They'll boost the drugs' effectiveness and hopefully help decrease Harry's nausea."

Hermione gave Harry another glance before following Anna out of the suite. Once the tapestry had settled back in place, Hermione asked, "How's Harry doing with the treatments?"

"I took a blood sample from Harry earlier," Anna replied, simply. "After I check Harry's labs, I'll have Dr. Walden do an evaluation." Seeing that Hermione wasn't satisfied with the answer, Anna went on. "Until we get the blood work back, I can't really say how Harry's responding to the chemo. Harry may be fine after this round and he can start rebuilding his strength," she added, trying to be optimistic.

But Hermione was a realist and she said, "Or?"

With a sigh, Anna replied, "Or Harry might need additional treatments."

"What's the worst case scenario?" Hermione asked, not wanting to think so negatively. "If the chemotherapy doesn't work?"

Gesturing for Hermione to sit down by the fireplace, Anna took a seat in the armchair across from the teenager and said, "Harry's father, James, was diagnosed with lymphoma when he was 12. James went through 4 rounds of chemo treatments. With Harry, however, if his cancer proves resistant to the drugs, we may have to go with more aggressive treatment. Either much stronger medications… or potentially a bone marrow transplant."

Very rarely did Hermione wish she didn't know so much about so many different things. This was certainly one of those times. As she thought about what Anna had said, along with what she knew from her parents' medical journals and books. Looking at Anna, Hermione had another question. "What are Harry's chances?"

Anna leaned back in her chair, looking thoughtful. "Honestly? I'd say Harry has an 85% chance of beating this."

While Hermione had been hoping for something better, she realized that while she was a realistic person this was probably one of those times when she had to just think positive and pray for the best. "What's Harry's blood type?" Hermione wanted to know, thinking. After all, even if you hope for the best, it was still a good idea to plan for the worst.