Edited to add: it looks like my upload removed the last part of this chapter so I've reuploaded it.

April 1997

Severus was sitting in the cold office in St. Mungo's questioning how they'd gotten to this point. This wasn't supposed to be how it went. The cancerous cell count had been steadily declining, and this was supposed to be the appointment where Harry was declared cancer-free. Actually, that appointment was supposed to be ten days from now and he just knew it wouldn't happen anymore. When the signs of the Leukemia started to re-emerge, he immediately scheduled this appointment with Healer Walker because they couldn't wait ten days to know for sure.

The father and son sat in the small exam room in complete silence outside of Harry's nervous leg tapping, something which Severus was not going to stop this time. This time he knew Harry needed to work off the nervous energy, as did he, and this was the best option. He didn't want to cause the young wizard any more anxiety than he already had. Because no matter what Healer Walker said as she tried to tell them not to jump to conclusions until the results were in, they both knew exactly what was going on.

The professor knew something wasn't right the third time his sixteen year old son had fallen asleep in his class over a fortnight period. At first, he blamed it on a thrilling Quidditch win having kept the Gryffindor up most of the night celebrating. Then he blamed the stresses of upcoming midterm exams, keeping him studying long into the night. The last time, only two days ago, there was really no excuse for it, but the biggest sign of trouble - one he could not explain away and that had his body in a hidden panic attack - was the large bruises he saw on the back of the young wizard's neck as he slept in Potion's class. After class that day, he'd kept Harry behind to ask and as expected, his son had no clue they were there or how he'd gotten them. So he immediately scheduled this appointment already knowing how it would end: the Leukemia was back.

This was confirmed the moment Healer Walker opened the small exam room door, so softly and quietly, it was like she was trying not to displace any of the heavy air within the room. She knew by the simple act of walking into that exam room, the lives of these two would forever change and she wanted to preserve their innocence for however long she could.

Severus didn't need to hear a word come out of her mouth to know it was bad news, which was probably the only good thing about the appointment because as she spoke, he could see her mouth moving but no words seemed to come out. He could hear bits and pieces like the phase 'stage four', although ALL and Leukemia in general didn't use a traditional staging system, he guessed his shocked and confused face meant she felt the need to provide the information in some other - easier to understand - method, meaning there wasn't anything else they could do to stop the inevitable. The healer then walked them through the previous results, comparing them to today's; Severus already knew how they looked, he had studied the results thoroughly after each appointment. This didn't make any sense, how did they go from almost remission to results worse than on the day of his diagnosis? Just in case, Healer Walker would do another test, but deep down he knew it would be futile; he'd seen the signs. Finally, she talked about palliative care; ways to keep Harry comfortable for however long he had left and at this point that was really all they could do. Things like the addictive properties of Dreamless Sleep and restricted pain potions wouldn't matter in the long run anymore, and if needed they could combine efforts with other muggle medications to help combat any pain he may find himself in.

"But I've been taking the potions," Harry finally said, with a quiver in his voice and a layer of grief he couldn't keep away, "I've been taking them exactly as you said I was supposed to, every single day."

It was an expected first reaction from the teen upon hearing the news that not only had everything they'd been working on had failed, but that there was nothing they could do going forward to reverse the outcome. Harry was going to die from Leukemia.

"Sometimes these things just happen. I am going to do some further research into what could have gone wrong," Healer Walker calmly explained, "however, regardless of the path we chose, there was never a guarantee that it would work, and the potions route had a more challenging path than the muggle treat-"

"How long?" Severus interrupted her bluntly.

"It's hard to give an exact timeline, especially considering how quickly things changed in only six weeks," The healer busied herself with the file in her hands, hating to give this kind of news, "An aggressive cancer like ALL, I would guess anywhere from one to three months, could be more if the curve flattens out. My recommendation is to try not to focus on the exact number."

He didn't hear much from the rest of that appointment. There was a list of what they could expect and ways to help ease Harry's discomfort with each of them; both wizarding and muggle methods, the latter of which he'd contact Alton about when they got home. He would have to discuss this with the headmaster, there was no point in Harry continuing classes, though the Gryffindor insisted he continue until he physically couldn't go any longer, something Severus wouldn't deny. It would do him good to stay focused on something.

Somehow, after a long day of extra tests, they made it back to the castle and were walking through the corridor leading back home. Severus had his arm around his son who was walking almost in a foggy daze. It wasn't supposed to go like this; he had been getting better, the cancer had been going away, until it wasn't. As expected, the young wizard went straight to his bedroom - the door closing slowly in his wake to mirror his sullen mood - leaving Severus alone in the sitting room. He paced; it was what he did when he had so much pent up energy within him that he had to move. The room was too suffocating, even after unbuttoning the top of his shirt so it didn't sit tightly around his neck. Surrounding him were all the signs of the life he lived with Harry, a life that was going to end. The pictures of birthdays and Christmases, Harry's O.W.L. results, and adoption certificate sat in frames around the room. A small cup of coffee was sitting on the table in front of him from where he sat only hours ago that morning trying to act like it was just going to be a normal check-up. Somehow, even then he knew they'd be returning completely changed. Without a second thought - a testament to his distracted mind - he picked up the small, plain white cup and threw it against the wall to the left of the fireplace, right below the enchanted window that showed a bright sunny spring day; completely wrong for how he felt inside. The cup shattered, which he'd not only expected but had hoped for, and the coffee dripped down the grey painted stone wall, leaving streaks of black tears on the wall.

Sirius had known they were going for the check-up that day, as well as the return of the Leukemia symptoms, and therefore it didn't surprise Severus when the Animagus stopped by for dinner to hear how it went. Also not surprisingly was that Harry did not show up at the dinner table, and just this once the professor wasn't going to push the issue. So he had dinner with Harry's Godfather and told him everything that had happened and exactly what Healer Walker had told them. Immediately, Sirius got up from the small table, his chair tumbling to the floor with a loud crash, and took off for Harry's bedroom. The professor wouldn't interrupt them, it was time that they needed to spend together.

He'll never know how he made it through that day, but before he knew it, it was nine o'clock. He sat in his armchair staring off into the fireplace, watching the flames flicker and dance in a cadence that would be relaxing if it weren't for his distressing feelings inside of him. He refused to believe he'd failed his son. There had to be a way to fix this, to give Harry more time for his body to fight against the cancer. He couldn't just let it end like this. Going through his extensive research left him empty handed, but he remembered back to a conversation he'd had about four months ago with the very last person he would ever go to for help in this type of situation. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and he needed to do something, anything. And suddenly he knew what that something was.

Sirius had been in with Harry since he'd heard the news, and Severus had left them more or less alone, except to bring a much needed dose of Dreamless Sleep for Harry that night. The young wizard must have finally taken the potion because Sirius walked out right at the same time Severus knew what he needed to do.

"Can you stay with Harry?" He asked Sirius as the Gryffindor collapsed onto the sofa, "I need to run an errand."

"You need to go now?!" Sirius angrily questioned, "What the hell could be so bloody important that you need to leave in the middle of the night?!"

It was a manifestation of the Godfather's grief and Severus wouldn't interrupt the process. It was easier to be angry with the professor leaving, especially since it definitely wasn't the middle of the night, then the situation neither of them could change.

"Can you stay with him or not?"

"Of course," Sirius spat back. "Are you going to tell me where you're going?"

Gathering up his traveling cloak, making sure to re-button his shirt so he had some semblance of control over himself in preparation for this visit, he turned to the Gryffindor who looked so lost with his red-rimmed eyes pleading for the professor to have some solution to their common problem.

"I'm going to try to fix this," he called out over his shoulder, "any way I can."

Severus stood in the ornate library waiting for the person he knew would still be awake at this late hour. This large, expansive library had always had a calming effect on him in the otherwise daunting Manor, and it was exactly the environment he needed to make this request.

"Severus," the long drawl of Lucius Malfoy came from behind him, "to what do I owe the pleasure for this late visit?"

"Please accept my sincerest apologies to you and Narcissa for the hour," the former spy told his colleague and friend, "I need your help."

It was far more casual of a request than he would normally make to this wizard. Lucius was the epitome of formality and his less than eloquent request was far from the usual tone most would use with the man. But Severus was desperate for answers, for a solution that he hoped was stored here in Malfoy Manor because the patriarch had tried to give him what he was now looking for back when he was in this same room during the Christmas party.

"What is it that you need?" He could see the negotiations passing through Lucius's mind and Severus didn't care what it cost him.

"Harry's dying," Severus bluntly said. It was really the first time he'd used those two words alone, and the grief filled him up inside. "I need to do anything I can-"

He was interrupted by Lucius's pale hand, adorned with his silver serpentine rings, lifting as a signal for him to cease talking.

"Are you willing to dabble across the line?"

No explanation was necessary, the blonde had picked up exactly what he was there to collect.

"I'm willing to do anything I can," he would beg if he needed to, sell his soul back to the Dark Lord, whatever it took to get the two tomes that might contain the information he needed.

Giving a slight nod, Lucius went to the familiar bookcase with the hidden drawer that hopefully held the answers he sought. It took less than a minute for the other wizard to return, holding two ancient looking books that had an aura of Dark Magic around them.

"From one father to another," the blonde said, handing the books to Severus, "you have my strictest confidence that should you find yourself using anything within these texts, I will honor utmost discretion. As I'm sure you will as well."

At this point, Severus didn't care if he was imprisoned in Azkaban as long as it saved Harry in the end. Using any of these potions, spells, or rituals, could leave him rotting there for the rest of his life and he wouldn't think twice about using any of them.

"Thank you," he replied, trying to ignore the rare sympathy and pity in his friend's eyes.

Upon returning to his quarters, it took most of the night and several cups of coffee to finally find something he could use. It was sometime just before four in the morning, with Sirius fast asleep on the couch with the help of his own dose of Dreamless Sleep, that Severus came across a blood ritual aptly named "Blood Cleansing".

Ritual: Blood Cleansing

A thorough cleansing is not achieved without the presence of a destructive force to remove the impurities. As with all in the system of correspondence, a balance - justice - must be found. A benevolent light does not produce the calamitous magic necessitated to overpower and eliminate; it merely casts a light on the imperfections. It is only through ceremonies of hatred and destruction, of overwhelming power, that impurities are destroyed and pureblood can be introduced.

Adhering to the symbols of two evils, this ritual requires two stages for completion. The first stage introduces the vitriol power of Mars and causes an image of destruction to compel into a black abounding vitality, which can burn itself through the corporeal body, and destroy imperfections. The natural order of the universe must be disrupted to undo the connection to the physical body. At the witching hour, three hours past midnight, the ritual room is prepared by burning toxic henbane and black hellebore and inhaled deeply only by the hosted.

A host will need to be selected for the second part of the ritual. Purest of pureblood and born under at least three of the planets in Virgo, with Mars being one of them, to find celestial contention and restore balance. The host will be laid on a cloth of red and the illustrated runes drawn in blood onto the host's chest. Five Armanian carnelian agates will be placed around the hosted while five mossgate emeralds will be placed around the host.

Bloodletting should always begin on the hosted's left arm. An incision is made using an enchanted athame steeped in sacrificial dragon blood. Only bleed the hosted while speaking the incantation; the wound will be closed when the incantation is completed.

Using a second athame dipped in dragon blood, an incision is made on the host's left arm. The blood is collected in an inscribed Babylonian kyanite bowl. Discard the initial four bowls of blood from the host; these are not considered pure enough. The ritual requires the unstable, debaucherous power of 5. The fifth bowl will be taken immediately to the hosted, while the blood is still warm and energized, and will be dripped into the hosted's right arm by way of incision.

This ritual should be performed every other night until the blood imperfection can be otherwise destroyed.

If he was reading this correctly, the ritual would use a pureblood donor to cleanse the blood from Harry. It would be a temporary effect - meaning the cancer would quickly return - and need to be repeated every other night, but it could give them the time to find a way to cure the cancer permanently.

The wording surrounding this ritual made it clear as day that this was Dark Magic by requiring a blood - thankfully not a life - sacrifice, but again he was willing to take the risk, and the sacrifice, himself if he could. He summoned a large piece of parchment and laid it out on the table in front of him to start making a list of the things required for the event:

Pureblood. That one was pretty obvious, and something he unfortunately could not provide as a half-blood himself. Looking over to the sleeping Gryffindor, he knew Black would also do whatever he could to save Harry. He wrote "Black Family" on the parchment for later research to see if the Animagus matched the other celestial and astrological requirements. While Severus was not by any means sufficient in astrology, these measures were kept in every Hogwarts student's files, though he wouldn't have immediate access to the Gryffindor's at this hour. Turning his focus to the files he did have access to, his Slytherins who also happened to carry most of the pureblood "Sacred Twenty-Eight", he wrote down every pureblood name he could immediately think of that were in his house, not thinking - or caring - if they'd consent to this procedure, arrangements could be made to make it possible: Malfoy, Bulstrode, Flint, Greengrass, Nott, and Parkinson. Summoning the appropriate files, for once it didn't take him long to find his answer: Draco Malfoy matched every single requirement, and the fact that the two boys had managed some kind of truce between them after the Malfoy Christmas party incident meant there was some chance - even if were small - that he would agree to such a ritual. It was with that miniscule sense of relief that Severus found himself falling asleep over his files on the sitting room table.

"What's this?!" He was abruptly woken up from his sleeping spot on the table by Black's loud proclamation. Clearing the sleep from his eyes, proving that he couldn't have slept much more than three or four hours, he looked up to find the Gryffindor wizard standing over him holding the book with the ritual and his notes about Draco. Coming from a family that knew all about dark magic, he wasn't surprised when the other wizard continued, "This will work! It'll give us more time to fight!"

"We'd need Lucius's approval given that it's his son," Severus explained, stretching out his aching back. He really should not have allowed himself to fall asleep like that. "Not to mention he'd need to do this bloodletting every other day until we could find a cure for the cancer."

"Who cares?!" The other wizard practically yelled. "We'll force him if--"

"No."

The voice that spoke the single word that interrupted Sirius was said with so much conviction his heart broke from its meaning. Both adult wizards, practically enemies in normal circumstances who had come together for the child that had just come out from his bedroom, turned to find Harry still in his pyjamas shaking his head.

"Harry," Severus started, but was again interrupted as Harry looked over the book and ritual Sirius had handed him.

"I can't ask Malfoy, or any one to do this," the young wizard said with a pleading in his eyes that struck Severus to his core. It was their last chance and if Harry wasn't on board with it, it would mean…

"You can't give up," it was Sirius that said it because Severus already knew the answer. Harry wasn't giving up; he was choosing not to take anyone else down with him. While the ritual wouldn't likely kill the Malfoy heir, it would be unpleasant and probably painful for both teens. Not to mention they would all probably end up in Azkaban for it. "You know what will happen if you don't? Do you understand?"

Harry turned away from them, "Yes, I do. I'm going to die".

He wouldn't force Harry to do this. If he were going to force the Gryffindor to do anything, it should have been back when they were debating between the potions and chemotherapy. That crossroad was now long gone and he had to start accepting what was going to happen. He stood tall and confident, wrapping Harry in his strong arms and wasn't at all surprised when his son melted into them; something he hadn't done in years. They would be tested and challenged in the upcoming weeks, flowing fluidly between the stages of grief as they all adjusted to the news and realization of what was coming. Until finally on the 16th of May at half past three in the morning, it would all be over.