"The cancer is stage two A," Healer Villin said, showing an x-ray and CT scan of Harry's lungs side by side and gesturing to the areas of interest as he spoke. "As you can see, the tumor is approximately four point six centimeters, larger than a walnut but smaller than a lime, and it has spread to the left main bronchus, one of the two large tubes that carries air from your windpipe to your lungs. From our diagnostics, it has not spread to Harry's lymph nodes yet, and Healer Atline has managed to charm a containment seal around the tumor to slow its replication for now."
Healer Villin's words hung in the air, each syllable a lead weight settling in Severus's gut, and he leaned back slightly in the chair he was sitting in. He heard the clinical terms, the precise measurements, but it was all a distant echo as his eyes stared at the images before him. They cemented the reality of the entire situation, mocking his inability to do a thing to help his son. Severus's hands clenched, his knuckles white. He wanted to lash out at the doctor, to demand that all these images and diagnostics need to be redone as they couldn't possibly be accurate. He wanted a potion, a spell, a muggle treatment even, anything that could eradicate this insidious disease from his son. But he knew that Healer Villin was correct: there was no magic for even cancer.
"That's not to say," Healer Villin continued, interrupting Severus's thoughts, "that the cancer won't pop up somewhere else in his lungs despite the charm, so the sooner we get him started on treatments the better." Healer Villin gestured to a different part on Harry's lungs. "Now, the diseased portion of the bronchus, however, cannot be contained with any charm without hindering Harry's ability to breathe, so we must act quickly and remove the diseased tissue and the tumor surgically to prevent further spread from this region. That would be the safest approach to ensure we collect all the cancer we can."
It was a lot of information to take in, a torrent of medical jargon and grim pronouncements crashing against the fragile dam of Severus's composure. He blinked, his gaze shifting from the stark, illuminated images to Healer Villin's earnest face.
"There's no way to get around cutting him open?"
Healer Villin shook his head, his expression softening slightly. "It's a delicate procedure, but necessary. We'll be using a combination of magical and muggle techniques, minimizing the invasiveness as much as possible. Healer Atline, who specialized in surgical charms and healing, will be leading the procedure. We've already consulted with several muggle oncologists who have provided invaluable insight into the most effective surgical approach for this specific type of cancer."
Severus's mind raced, a chaotic whirlwind of fear and desperation. He pictured Harry lying vulnerable on a surgical table, his chest laid bare. The image was unbearable. He rubbed his face with his hands a bit roughly, and he felt Eileen rub his back comfortingly before resting her hand on his shoulder.
"And . . . the risks?" he managed to ask, his voice barely a whisper. He wasn't sure why he asked. He remembered listening to the risks involved with his father's procedures, and that had been hard to hear. Tobias was standing next to Eileen, and he sighed heavily and closed his eyes as if expecting the words from Healer Villin.
Healer Villin hesitated, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "As with any surgery, there are risks. Infection, complications with anesthesia, potential damage to surrounding tissue. However, Healer Atline is exceptionally skilled, and we've taken every precaution. The potential benefits far outweigh the risks. Without surgery, the cancer will spread, and Harry's prognosis will worsen significantly."
Severus tried not to start crying again. It had taken him nearly a half hour to compose himself after Healer Villin had given him the startling news. They had then been pulled into a room, himself, his parents, and Samuel and Tori, to hear further information on what the healers had uncovered. And so far, it was not good. He could lose his son—if they did the surgery or if they didn't. There was just no guarantee.
Severus's gaze drifted back to the scans.
"And after . . . after the surgery?"
"Following the surgery, we'll begin a course of chemotherapy and radiation," Healer Villin explained, pointing to a separate set of charts. "We've tailored a regimen based on the specific characteristics of Harry's cancer. It will be aggressive, but necessary. We'll monitor him closely for side effects and adjust the treatment as needed. We also have a dedicated team of magical and muggle therapists to assist with pain management and emotional support."
Severus's heart clenched. Chemotherapy. Radiation. Words that conjured images of weakness and suffering. He thought of Harry's already lean frame, his resilience, and the thought of him enduring such a brutal onslaught was almost too much to bear. Eileen and Tobias leaned against each other, whispering something softy amongst themselves. Samuel and Tori were looking between Healer Villin, the images, and Severus repeatedly, remaining silent as they took everything in. Severus clasped his hands together, leaning his elbows into his knees and staring at the cold sterile floor.
"And . . . the chances of survival?" he asked, his voice strained.
Healer Villin's gaze tried to meet his but Severus refused to meet his eyes for this.
"With aggressive treatment, we believe Harry has a good chance of remission. However, I must be honest, stage two A lung cancer is serious, and the long-term prognosis is dependent on how well Harry responds to the treatment. There are no guarantees."
Severus swallowed dryly at these words. He could lose his son. He felt his father's hand rest on his shoulder, and Tobias squeezed firmly.
"He's got all of us, Severus," Tobias said. "He's got all of us."
If anyone knew what going through cancer—surgery, treatments and all—was like, it would be Tobias, and Severus was momentarily glad his father was there with him to hear all of this. It helped steady him a bit to know that his father had survived a high-risk procedure with only muggle techniques, with stage three borderline stage four lung cancer at that, though of a different kind. While Tobias had been unable to have a lot of magic performed on him due to being muggle, some diluted potions had been used during his recovery, and he pulled through miraculously. Harry had every healer—muggle and magical alike ready to erase this disease from him, so surely his odds were even better.
But he's only six, a nagging voice in the back of Severus's head screamed at him. He's just six!
But I have no choice. It's there, the cancer is in his lungs. There's nothing I can do to take that away like it never happened. I just have to be there for him. Severus nodded; his throat tight. He would do anything, endure anything, to give Harry a chance. He would fight this battle, alongside his son, every step of the way.
"When do we start?" He knew he sounded weak but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"We can schedule the surgery for tomorrow morning," Healer Villin replied, his voice firm but compassionate.
"Bloody hell," Severus muttered under his breath, rubbing his eyes and face once more. Things were now moving a bit fast for his liking.
"We want to act quickly," Healer Villin said. "We'll need you to sign some consent forms, and we'll go over the procedure with you in detail. We will also need to discuss Harry's living arrangements during and after treatment. It is best that he stays within the healing ward for the duration of the initial treatments under close monitoring."
Severus nodded in understanding as he breathed deeply, trying to keep his emotions in check.
"Now," Healer Villin continued. "We still need to inform Harry of everything we have discussed with you. We just would like you to be present when we do so. I am sure it'll be less frightening for him."
"Of course," Severus said.
"Severus, Tori and I are going to take Joshua home," Samuel said, standing up from the chair he had been sitting in, Tori following his lead.
"Is there anything we can do for you?" Tori asked.
Severus shook his head.
"No, thank you both for staying," Severus said.
"Of course," Tori said. "We'll take care of Iris tonight. You focus on your son."
Tori and Samuel followed a nurse out of the room to collect their son from his hospital room and take him home. The nurse explained that his ankle had healed completely with no problem, and he was good as new. If only Harry's case had been so easy.
Healer Villin led Severus, Eileen and Tobias to Harry's hospital room, and Severus smiled softly at a very familiar scene. The cheerful buzz of Harry's room was a stark contrast to the sterile, hushed atmosphere of the waiting area and even the viewing room they had just left. As Severus, Eileen, Tobias, and Healer Villain entered, they found Harry propped up against a mountain of pillows, his cheeks flushed, his eyes bright, and a line attached to his arm where he was receiving fluids. He was holding court, regaling a small group of nurses and healers that surrounded his bed with a dramatic tale of a "gigantic, spiky-tailed dinosaur that could eat a whole forest in one bite!" It was from a book Severus had read to Harry at least thirty times by now; one of his favorite bedtime stories. He always knew Harry could recite the book by heart.
"And then," Harry exclaimed, "the brave little Triceratops said, 'No way, Mr. Stegosaurus! I'm gonna stomp on your toes!'" He punctuated his story with a vigorous stomping motion of his feet, making the nurses giggle as they watched him.
Severus felt a pang of both relief and a profound sadness. Harry, even in this state, was a force of nature, his spirit undimmed. How could such a sweet boy be dealt such an awful hand? Hadn't he been through enough?
A tall, slender woman with warm, intelligent eyes stepped forward. She wore pink scrubs under her long white lab robe.
"Mr. Snape, I presume?" She asked, then held her hand out. "I'm Healer Atline. I'm a pediatric surgical healer, and I'll be performing Harry's surgery tomorrow."
Her voice was calm and reassuring, and Severus accepted her handshake politely.
"Thank you for . . ." Severus was suddenly at a loss of words, a rare situation even for him, and as he fought his brain for a single way to end this conversation, Healer Atline seemed understanding as she clasped her hands together in front of her.
"I am always here to talk or answer any questions if you need me," she said, and Severus nodded his head, appreciative of her understanding.
"Daddy!" Harry greeted when he noticed his father in the room. His eyes lit up at his grandparents as well. "Nami, Pappy! Where's Joshua?"
Severus walked over to his son and sat on the edge of the bed. Many of the nurses and Healers took this as their cue to leave, only one of the nurses staying a moment to adjust the fluid pump standing next to Harry's bed before heading out of the room. Severus smiled at his son, trying to remove the images of the cancer he had seen earlier from his mind. Eileen and Peadar walked to the other side of Harry's bed where a couple chairs were, and they pulled the chairs closer before sitting down.
"Joshua had broken his ankle when he fell down the mountain," Severus explained. "It was a pretty quick fix with a potion and now, he's on his way home with his parents."
"He didn't come say goodbye first," Harry said, pouting slightly. "He said he would."
"I'm sure he will be in to visit tomorrow," Severus said. "A few things came up and we need to have a talk with you."
"Okay," Harry said, looking over at Healer Villin. He smiled at the healer and asked, "Did you find the dinosaur stickers?"
"Oh, yes," Healer Villin said, smacking a hand to his forehead. "The stickers! Layla!"
One of the nurses leaving the room paused in the doorway and raised her brows at Healer Villin.
"Would you be so kind as to procure some dinosaur stickers for this young lad?"
"Of course," Layla said, winking at Harry before leaving the room.
"Healer Villin said he had dinosaur stickers for me since I was really good for all the tests they ran."
"You were?" Severus asked, raising a brow teasingly.
"The bestest!" Harry insisted.
"I bet you were," Severus said, wrapping an arm around his son, and Harry leaned into his father.
"While we wait on your dinosaur stickers," Healer Villin began. "We need to talk about your chest and all the tests we ran." Healer Villin exchanged a glance with Severus before continuing. "Remember when we talked about naughty cells?"
Harry frowned, then nodded slowly.
"The ones that make me cough?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Healer Villin said, "and during all the tests, we found a little growth inside your lung. It's called a tumor."
"Is it bad?" Harry asked, looking between his father and the healer.
"It's not good," Healer Villin admitted. "It's cancerous, and if we don't take it out, it might make you sicker."
"Cancer?" Harry asked, recalling the word. "Like what Pappy had?"
"Yes, bud," Tobias said, inching his chair even closer so he could rub Harry's shoulder. "Like what I had. But these kind healers are going to do everything they can to take it out of you."
Harry looked up at his father.
"Will it hurt?" he asked.
Severus felt his throat tightened and he pulled Harry into a hug, holding him as close as he dared as if he might hurt him if he held him too tightly.
"It might," he said honestly, "but I'll be here every step of the way."
Harry blinked up at his father, frowning in thought, then pulled back and looked at Tobias.
"But you can scare it away like you did yours," Harry said, a smile on his lips. "Right, Pappy?"
"Oh, kiddo," Tobias said with a sad smile. "I think we'll need a bigger roar for yours."
"Like T-Rex?" He took a deep breath and unleashed a truly impressive T-Rex roar, and everyone in the room couldn't help the smiles and chuckles.
But the laughter was abruptly cut short by a violent coughing fit. Harry's small body convulsed, his face turning red.
"Take it easy, son," Severus said, his voice laced with concern. He moved closer, rubbing Harry's back gently.
As the coughing subsided, Harry held out his hand, and he looked up at his father with a bit of fright in his eyes. Severus's breath caught in his throat. Harry's small palm was stained with bright red blood.
The laughter died in the room. The air grew heavy, thick with unspoken fear. Severus's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. He stared at the blood on Harry's hand, the stark reality of his son's illness crashing down upon him with brutal force. Eileen pulled a handkerchief out of her handbag and gently cleaned Harry's hand while Severus did his best to come to terms with the journey before them.
After a moment, Healer Villin spoke once more.
"I have also spoken with a young healer who has made a few advancements in the magical post-treatments of young cancer patients. Healer Jason Lee will be making a stop by tomorrow afternoon to discuss his latest research."
"That name sounds very familiar," Severus said.
"I believe he may have had a brief relationship with your ex, Dahlia," Healer Villin said.
"Ah yes," Severus said. "I remember now. He'll be here tomorrow afternoon?"
"Yes, he'd made a few discoveries with some experimental potions I think you'll be most interested in, Severus."
If it would cure his son, Severus was agreeable to just about anything right now.
Iris finished her dinner before she joined Ruth in the living room to play with Ruth's dollhouse. Everything had been a bit of a blur leaving the park that afternoon. Her father and Samuel had decided to use an emergency portkey Samuel had in the trunk of his car and vanished on the spot. Tori had driven everyone home in her car before leaving as soon as she had arrived. Thankfully, Addie was already there waiting for them, so someone must of floo called her so she would know to meet everyone at Tori's house. Iris wasn't sure what to make of what had all went down. She didn't even get a good glance at her brother but her father did look a bit panicked. Esther was quiet—and Iris meant in the way that the little girl would usually be throwing her hands everywhere, but Esther was just sitting in her car seat worrying her bottom lip. Jemima thankfully slept the whole way home.
Tori did not answer many questions during the drive home save for telling everyone that there had been a bit of an accident at the park and both boys needed to see a Healer to make sure they were okay. But even now, as the sky darkened more and bedtime was nearing, Iris had expected to hear from her father or at least from someone to tell her what was going on. Esther and Jemima had already crashed for the night, and Ruth was yawning now, and Iris felt a bit tired too. Even Enid was fast asleep on the couch. But Iris's worry was keeping her awake. Where was everyone? What was happening?
Suddenly, the front door swung open, and Joshua stormed in, his face tight and lips pinched together. He stormed through the house, up the stairs and out of sight.
"Joshua!" Samuel called as he entered the house, Tori behind him. Samuel paused at the bottom of the stairs in time to hear Joshua's door slam shut. Samuel growled under his breath as he started up the stairs, but Tori grabbed the back of his shirt.
"Leave him be," she told her husband. "He needs to process."
Samuel sighed, looking up the staircase before stepping down it and following his wife. Addie raised her brows at her daughter and son-in-law, and they directed her toward the kitchen, and the adults disappeared once more.
"Do you think you're spending the night?" Ruth asked tiredly after watching the display of her family returning home.
"I don't know," Iris answered honestly.
It was several minutes before Tori, Samuel, and Addie stepped back into the living room. Addie's eyes were red, but she swiped at them with a handkerchief as she smiled at Ruth and Iris.
"I'm heading out now, girls," Addie said. "Do I get a hug goodbye?"
Ruth and Iris grinned as they jumped to their feet and hugged Addie.
"Bye, Granny," Ruth said.
"Bye, Addie," Iris said.
Addie kissed both girls before waving goodbye one last time as she disappeared in the floo. Iris looked at Tori since Samuel had already walked out of the living room once more. Tori gave her a smile that looked very sad.
"You'll be spending the night with us," Tori answered Iris's unspoken question. "Your brother needed a few more tests and treatments done, so he couldn't leave yet and your father can't leave him alone there."
"What's wrong with him?" Iris asked. "Is he okay?"
"He's okay right now," Tori said with a nod. "Your dad will tell you everything you need to know in the morning, okay?'
"Oh," Iris said, feeling slightly disappointed and more confused. "Okay."
Tori sighed softly through her nose before forcing a smile.
"Alright, you two," Tori said, her voice a little brighter, though Iris could still see the worry lurking in her eyes. "Time for bed. Iris, you can borrow some pajamas from Ruth."
Iris nodded, following Ruth up the stairs. As they passed Joshua's room, Iris paused. She could hear the faint, muffled sound of sobs smothered by a pillow. It was Joshua, crying. Not the angry, frustrated tears she'd seen earlier, but deep sobs of someone really hurting. Iris felt a wave of sympathy and worry washing over her. Joshua was practically her cousin, and he was always the cheery, always looking on the bright side kind of friend. To hear him crying like that made her heart ache, and she knew something was really wrong.
"What's wrong with Joshua?" she whispered to Ruth, but Ruth just shrugged, her eyes wide and a little frightened.
They went into Ruth's room, and Iris watched as Ruth pulled out a pair of soft, worn pajamas. The familiarity of the routine, the simple act of getting ready for bed, felt surreal. It was like they were playing a scene from a play, pretending that everything was normal, when it was anything but. As she changed, Iris's mind raced. What was happening at the hospital? What kind of "tests and treatments" did Harry need? Why was Joshua crying? Why were the adults acting so strangely?
She felt like she was trapped in a maze, surrounded by walls of secrets and half-truths. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. The adults would just give her more vague reassurances, more empty promises.
A sense of frustration, sharp and stinging, pricked her eyes. She wasn't a baby. She was old enough to understand. She deserved to know what was happening to her brother, to her family.
After climbing into the bed she would be sharing with Ruth, she closed her eyes, trying to block out the sounds of Joshua's crying and the muffled voices downstairs. But the worry was a heavy weight on her chest. She felt small, insignificant, powerless. She was just a kid, caught in the middle of something she didn't understand.
But even as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes, a flicker of defiance sparked within her. She wouldn't be kept in the dark. She would find out what was happening, even if it meant breaking the rules. She would be brave, like Harry. She would be strong, like her dad. She would find the truth, no matter what it took.
Iris lay still, her eyes wide open in the darkness, listening to Ruth's soft, even breathing. She waited, her heart pounding in her ears, until she was sure Ruth was sound asleep. Then, she slipped out of bed, her bare feet silent on the carpet.
The hallway was dimly lit by a faint nightlight, casting long, distorted shadows that danced on the walls. Iris crept towards Joshua's room, her stomach twisting with a mixture of fear and determination. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob, before taking a deep breath and knocked as loudly as she dared.
"Joshua?" Iris whispered. She hadn't heard any crying in a few minutes, so she was hopeful he might be calmed down enough to talk.
"Go away, Iris," he mumbled.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "What's happening?"
"Just go away," he repeated a bit harsher.
Well, that was very unlike Joshua. Iris stepped away from the door, giving it a hurt look. Clearly, Joshua was not ready to talk about anything.
She decided to try her luck downstairs. The adults were still awake, their voices a low murmur in the living room. Maybe she could overhear something, anything, that would give her a clue. She tiptoed down the stairs, her ears straining to catch the words. She paused halfway down the staircase where she could see Tori and Samuel sitting on the couch, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp. She sat down and peered through the railing at them. They were holding glasses, the amber liquid inside catching the light. Samuel seemed a bit defeated as he leaned back in the cushions while Tori simply looked exhausted as she sat facing her husband.
They were whispering, their voices so low that Iris could barely make out the words. She slid down the stairs, hiding behind the railing and keeping in the shadows while trying to decipher their hushed conversation.
Suddenly, Tori's head snapped up, her eyes locking onto Iris's.
"Iris?" she said, her voice sharp but not unkind.
Iris froze, caught red-handed. She stood up on the stair that she had been sitting on, her cheeks flushed.
"I . . . I couldn't sleep," she stammered.
Tori sighed, her expression softening. "Come here, sweetie."
Iris walked down the staircase and over to Tori and Samuel, her heart pounding. Samuel gave her a small smile as she paused in front of Tori, who set her drink down and took Iris's hand in her own.
"I know you're worried," Tori said. "But it's not my place to tell you what's happening with Harry. That's a conversation your dad needs to have with you."
Iris's shoulders slumped. She wanted to argue, to demand answers, but she knew Tori wasn't going to budge on this. It would be a futile battle.
"I just want to know if he's okay," she whispered.
"He's being taken care of," Tori said, her voice gentle. "Your dad will be here in the morning, and he'll explain everything. I'm sorry you're so confused. We should have tried to make you understand things better, but this has been a hard night for everyone. Even you."
She stood up, taking Iris's hand.
"Come on, back to bed."
Iris allowed herself to be led back to Ruth's room. As Tori tucked her back into bed, Iris felt a wave of conflicting emotions. She was frustrated, disappointed, but also strangely comforted by Tori's presence. Tori would never lie to her, so whatever this was, it had to be very serious that Tori was staying quiet about it. She figured she would have to wait for her father to find out what was going on.
Try to get some sleep," Tori said, smoothing Iris's hair. "Your dad will be here soon."
Iris nodded, closing her eyes. She was still worried, still confused, but the warmth of the blankets and the gentle rhythm of Tori's hand stroking her hair lulled her into a restless sleep. She would have to wait until morning. But she would not be denied answers then.