A WHOLE HEART - MontanaDan.doc

This story archived at http://www.walkingtheplank.org/archive/viewstory.php?sid=2774

A Whole Heart

by MontanaDan

Summary: Post war. Harry is a medi-wizard at Hogwarts and after a severe epidemic of wizard's flu, Harry succumbs to the virus. Who will take care of Harry?
 

"Harry, we have two more coming in," Poppy called from the door.

With a frustrated sigh, Harry waved a hand and had two beds readied alongside the other wall. "Over here," he called back.

Poppy and Minerva half-carried, half-dragged two students over. They looked like seventh years by the size of them and Harry sighed. The Levifluenza epidemic had spread like wildfire throughout the school, as well as the magical community.

It was a magical strain of influenza, with a deviation; not only would you see the normal physical symptoms of a flu, but also a person's magic was affected. The magical side effects varied with each patient, which made treating the illness difficult.

Fortunately, once you'd had it, you were immune to it ever after. The last large epidemic had been some eighty years previous, so nearly everyone was at risk this time. The potions for the symptoms worked well enough, and calming draughts helped to control the wild magic, but the sheer quantity of people being affected at one time put a serious strain on the medical staff, which at Hogwarts, meant only Poppy and Harry, and its supplies. Harry's wandless power helped, but he was only human, despite his status as the most powerful living wizard.

At the first onset of the flu, one could manage, but once the virus was at full strength, the afflicted would experience no less than three days of severe symptoms and wild magic outbursts. Afterwards, the sickly could look forward to several days of forced rest, due to the overexertion of their magic.

Headmistress McGonagall was the first of the staff to get ill, likely due to her age, and had spent several days in the infirmary before the epidemic reached its peak. She had recovered by the time the rest of the staff began to show symptoms, which was fortunate, as soon she would have to practically run the school on her own. By the end of the first week, most of the staff had already contracted it, but by the middle of the second week it seemed like half the student population came down with it.

Harry had never worked so hard in his life. He and Poppy had been handling the onslaught well, but by the end of the second week, they were both exhausted. They alternated taking naps, lived on pepper-up potion and relied heavily on prefects and the head boy and girl (once they had recovered from the virus themselves) for help.

Once they got the current two children settled into beds and dosed with potions, Minerva pulled Harry aside. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I think Poppy is sick."

Harry's head whipped around to watch Poppy as she slowly made her way to her desk to record the newest arrivals. She did appear to be sniffling a bit and she leaned heavily on the desk for a moment before lowering herself into a chair.

She pulled out a handkerchief and sneezed, causing the inkwell before her to levitate. Uncontrollable levitation was a frequent occurrence in the ward lately. The wild magic side effect of the virus also caused water glasses to crack, pillows to burst, helpless giggles to erupt, and Harry once had to duck to avoid a flying bedpan.

Poppy peered forlornly at the inkwell suspended in midair then moved her weary gaze to Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry sighed and waved a hand at a recently emptied bed to prepare it for a new occupant. "Everything will be fine, Poppy,"

He and Minerva helped her into a bed next to Remus, the reinstated Defense teacher, who had come in yesterday. Thankfully, the full moon was not for at least two weeks.

"Harry, are you-" Poppy began weakly.

"Shh, it's alright," Harry replied, tucking her in. "It's winding down now. Everything will be fine." He laid a hand over her brow and called for a fever potion and a calming draught.

"You're exhausted, Potter."

Hearing that voice almost made Harry shudder. He suppressed it and glared at the occupant of the bed behind him. "I'm fine," he growled. "You lay down and shut it, Snape, or I'll douse you with sleeping draught."

"Harry, he's right."

"That goes for you too, Remus." Harry pointed a finger at his self-proclaimed new godfather. Both Snape and Remus were the last of the faculty to be afflicted. "I'm the healer here, so both of you-"

"Mr. Potter," a girl called softly from across the room. "Billy is convulsing again."

"Fuck," Harry muttered to himself, grabbing a vial and heading back across the room.

Once the boy's fit had passed, Harry straightened and turned only to be confronted with Minerva's concerned face.

"Potter-"

"Headmistress, I'm fine," Harry assured her. "Madam Hooch will be in after she's done supervising Professor Snape's class and she's bringing Head Boy Morely down with her. I'll get some sleep then."

"Alright, Harry, but-"

"But what? Who else is capable of handling this?" Harry said irritably. "St. Mungo's can't send help, they're dealing with the same thing over there. We'll get through this."

Minerva acquiesced. "I suppose." She sighed. "I'll be back later after I see to the schedules to check on you."

Harry waved an acknowledgment as he turned to pick up another goblet of calming potion. He brought it over to Remus, noting with relief that Minerva had left. He loved her dearly but she could be as meddlesome as Remus, himself, at times.

Helping Remus to sit up, Harry held the cup to his lips as he swallowed several sips of the draught.

"Minerva's right, Harry," Remus said softly. Harry was surprised he could even speak, let alone understand what was being said around him.

"Just drink, Remus," Harry bade, making sure he finished the dose of potion.

"Who is keeping your potions stocked?"

Harry glanced at Snape. "You are," he said, settling Remus back into his pillow. "We haven't depleted the stores from the last batch you made for us."

"How much do you have left?" Snape asked.

"You'll be out of here by tomorrow," Harry retorted, evasively. "Plenty of time to whip up more for us."

Snape snorted. "You're repeating yourself, Potter," he drawled. "And your bedside manner leaves much to be desired."

Harry shrugged. He had been unnerved by Snape's presence since he had arrived in the hospital. He knew Snape didn't want to be here. Snape hated being sick and now that he was starting to recover, he was cranky and difficult. This was Harry's domain and he was damn good at his job, but Snape still made him feel like a useless first year. "We'll probably need the bed too," Harry added.

Snape opened his mouth - probably to make a derisive retort, but a call from across the room drew Harry's attention again.

A large pitcher of water was hovering over a third year's face, appearing to be ready to dump its contents over the poor boy's head. Harry sighed as he stood up. "Drink your potion like a good boy, Snape," he murmured. "I have enough to worry about."

Crossing the room, Harry felt uncommon satisfaction that Snape didn't voice a protest.

********

Hours later, alone in his small room off the hospital wing, Harry finally sat down on his bed. This nap was much anticipated and desperately needed. He shrugged out of his medical robe, preparing for a blissful couple hours of sleep.

He coughed and a parchment-weight flew across the room, hitting the wall with a loud thud. With a sigh, he pulled a flask from his robe pocket and took another swig of his personal supply of calming draught. There was only a small school supply of the special blend for those allergic to ginger root, like himself. He'd been showing his own symptoms for a couple of hours now, but he couldn't afford to fall prey to the virus yet. Not until Poppy was well again, and certainly not with the ward still filled with patients who needed him.

He lay down on his pillow, still clutching his robe and the vial and let his mind drift over the past few years.

Dumbledore's pensieve had cleared Snape, but the only people willing to forgive, if not forget, were some of those in the Order, most notably McGonagall. That was why Snape had returned to Hogwarts to teach. Like Remus, Snape had a hard time finding work after the war. So when Minerva offered them both their old positions, they both jumped at the opportunity. Well, Remus jumped, Snape griped and scowled but accepted the position anyway.

The first few months of Harry's internship with Pomfrey had been hard on Harry as he tried to deal with his feelings toward Snape. As an adult, he could come to terms with all that Snape had done for the side of the Light. It had been a heavy reality check. Sometimes the teen-aged boy who had witnessed Dumbledore go over the ramparts would scream in silent rage, but the man he was now was able to repress the anger. Reminding himself that Snape had saved two lives while sacrificing Dumbledore's that night, as well as keeping their only spy in the midst of the enemy helped somewhat. As did the fact that it had been a direct order from Dumbledore himself. And that Harry could understand. Wasn't it Harry himself that had forced cup full after cup full of that poison into Dumbledore's mouth? He forced those memories out of his mind.

In Harry's eyes, Snape was as much of a hero of the recent war as anyone else. There were many casualties of that war, which was why Harry decided to devote the rest of his life to healing. He'd had enough of death.

Harry had less than a year left of his internship now and then he would take over for Poppy at Hogwarts, who wanted to retire. He was starting to question his decision of late. Not because of the workload. The current epidemic aside, with the war over, it would more than likely be a less than stressful, with only the basic magical mishaps, injuries and common afflictions filling his days. Although he thrived on challenge, Harry had decided that he'd rather be slightly bored here, within the hallowed halls of the one place he had considered home alongside people he loved, than be over-worked and probably under-paid at St. Mungo's where he'd be nagged for autographs and put on something of a pedestal.

Recently, however, Harry began to question his decision - for reasons that surprised him. Harry had watched in disbelief as Remus and Snape had reluctantly become friends. Harry, close to Remus now, was forced into Snape's company more times than he could count as they shared some late night drinks. He had been amazed to see Snape's strange and cynical sense of humor (much like his own), his devotion to his students (especially those in his house) and his dedication to his profession. Despite Harry's initial opinion that the man couldn't teach for shit, his opinion began to change after numerous debates on the subject. And he had agreed that although Snape's teaching methods were somewhat harsh, his student's track record of high potions exam results attested to his success. He even listened as Harry suggested alternate techniques and even grudgingly agreed that he could be less of a bastard now that Voldemort was dead, and his position as spy no longer an issue.

They had also had several rousing debates over his old textbook, which was still in Harry's possession. Snape still threw insults and antagonized the hell out of Harry, but he could tell that there was a lot less venom in their delivery. He also always left Remus' rooms or the dungeons feeling exhilarated and mentally charged, which often left him lying in bed at night for hours thinking about Snape before he could fall asleep.

Over time, some of those thoughts became completely indecent, causing Harry to agonize over his future here. Harry had begun viewing Snape not only as a person but also as a sexual entity. And he became bizarrely jealous every time Snape approached Remus about meeting for drinks. Snape had never personally invited Harry or deferred to Harry and it drove him insane. If he weren't so close to Remus, he often wondered if he would have even been included at all.

Snape must have accepted him on some level though, Harry guessed. Otherwise, Snape would have made those evenings so unbearable that Harry would have cried off rather than stay and have drinks. Wouldn't he?

Harry rubbed his face and sighed. He sniffled and made a mental note to take a mild nasal potion when he woke up.

One thing was for sure, if he was going to stay at the castle, he'd have to do something about the Snape situation. Harry fell asleep thinking that Snape might have actually sounded concerned when he'd snapped at him earlier. It was probably only wishful thinking though.

******

Harry glanced wearily around the ward. Remus would be leaving as soon as Snape arrived to escort him back to his rooms, Poppy was recovering nicely and only a few students remained. Taking a quick gulp from his flask, Harry recorded the last round of potions distributed. He longed for his bed.

Pomona would be there soon to relieve him. Or was it Rolanda's turn? Harry shook his head. Must be the fever. He stood up and clutched at the desk as the room swirled around him.

"Potter?"

He just needed a quick pepper-up fix to hold him over until he was relieved. The vial was across the room. It seemed like such a very long way.

"Potter?"

Maybe he would just wait a few moments. The desk was solid after all. Oh, right. He was a wizard. He held out his hand and summoned it. It completely missed his palm. How did that happen?

"Potter!"

He lifted his gaze. Black eyes scoured his face. You could get lost in those eyes. So sexy. "Um, hi, Severus," he said. "What can I do for you?"

Those unfathomable eyes blinked. Hands wrapped around his arm, long fingers, tapered elegantly. He stared at them, wondering how they'd feel against his skin.

"Potter, I think you should lie down."

Harry pulled at his arm and was surprised when it didn't pull free of those hands. "I'm fine," he insisted, not wishing to move from his perch against the desk. It was a sturdy desk.

"Potter, you almost took my eye out summoning that vial," Snape said. "Come on."

"No, I'm fine right here-"

The man was strong. But as soon as Snape pulled Harry away from the desk, Harry's legs crumpled beneath him. Another arm caught him around his waist and he found a steady support against Snape's chest.

He looked up into the Potion Master's face and grinned. "Told you I was fine," he began, but the first step made the room spin.

Someone screamed and there was a crash across the room. Harry tried to turn towards the noise but found that it hurt too much. His head was beginning to pound. He clutched at his support post.

"You idiot," muttered Snape.

Harry frowned, looking up again. Then he remembered that his support post was Severus Snape. With a fortifying breath, Harry tried to stand on his own. His legs weren't cooperating though.

Another shout came from behind him and he was jerked to the side as something large swished by them.

"What was that?" he asked, but speaking made him cough.

"Be quiet, Potter," Snape said abruptly, shifting Harry's weight to get a better grip. Harry was vaguely aware of another set of hands that grabbed his other arm. "Let go, Remus. I'll not have you having a re-lapse. You're still as weak as a newborn."

The other hands fell away and Harry swayed a bit. "Where are we going?" he managed to say.

Harry heard Poppy calling something behind them and he struggled to turn around. Snape held him fast though and started snapping instructions to Remus.

"It's not safe here," Snape said. Harry puzzled over it for a moment before a glass was held to his mouth. "Drink."

What was Poppy yelling? "What-"

"Drink it."

Harry blinked, but since he felt cocooned in the warmth of strong arms, he relented. Within seconds, blackness took him.

*****

Severus. Harry had called him Severus. Not once had Potter ever called him by his given name. Not even when they were ensconced in the dungeons with Remus indulging in far too much liquor had the name slipped out.

It was like a soft prayer, whispered on the wind. A gentle caress to his ears. Severus idly wondered what it would sound like in Parseltongue.

Severus fingered the faded famed scar before laying a hand across Potter's brow. He was very hot, his fever soaring above safe numbers. Severus laid the fresh folded flannel over Potter's forehead then rose to check the next batch of potions he would have to force Potter to take.

They had sequestered the younger wizard, isolating him in an empty room in the dungeons. While Severus could berate Potter for his foolishness in keeping his illness to himself (which he did, but only when Remus was in the room to hear it), he couldn't help being impressed by Potter's dedication. Idiot boy.

The man was the most powerful wizard of their time now, both magically and politically, and he chose to return to Hogwarts to heal. He could have been the highest paid, most sought after medi-wizard of the day, but he chose the students and the staff of the school to bless with his presence.

And it was a blessing, Severus acknowledged. Poppy was retiring. A well deserved respite for the medi-witch who had served through two wars. Severus had also never enjoyed his nights more than when he and his friends got together for drinks, lively discussion and spirited banter.

Just the admission that Severus Snape had friends was a milestone.

Severus frowned. But Harry Potter's presence was also a curse. As much as Potter was needed and appreciated at the castle, Severus wondered if Potter even considered him a friend. Studying the shivering form in the bed, Severus recalled the way he had looked up at him, pressed up against his chest. Those wide green eyes had reflected such innocence. Harry was so unaware of his own allure, so ignorant of his effect on Severus.

He draped another blanket over the still form just as the door opened.

"How is he?"

Severus acknowledged Remus' entrance with a nod. "The same," Severus informed.

Remus sighed. "Minerva is complaining about our classes."

Severus scowled. "Did you tell her that you and I are the only ones even close to capable of attending him and defending ourselves against his wild magic?"

"Yes," Remus said. "And she said we should give him more calming potion-"

"And you told her that the last time we gave him that potion, he had an allergic reaction to it that nearly killed him?" Severus interrupted. "That would have killed him if I hadn't been here to administer counter measures?"

"Yes, I told her."

Severus looked back at Harry and gently pushed a stray clump of damp hair off his forehead. "And did you tell her that this was the safest place for him, and for others, and that we are the closest thing to family he has here at the castle?"

He missed Remus' knowing grin at Severus' unconscious use of the word 'we' and stood up. "Yes," Remus told him. "And she finally relented."

"Good," Severus muttered as he retrieved the next vial they would have to force Potter to swallow. "Are you ready to administer this with me?"

Remus nodded and they both approached the bed. Severus took a seat once again at Harry's side while Remus positioned himself at the head of the bed to lift and support Harry's head. Severus cast a protection charm around them and then held the vial to Potter's full lips. Remus locked Potter's upper body in a tight embrace and lifted his chin. Severus quickly dumped the liquid into Harry's mouth and held his wand to the younger man's throat.

The spell made Harry swallow and they quickly shifted positions, holding the slight form to the bed as Harry coughed abrasively and began to convulse. Severus swallowed the lump in his throat as he tightened his grip on the thrashing young man.

Despite Severus' spell, the bed and its three occupants began to shake violently. Objects began flying around the room, most bouncing off Severus' protection bubble, and some hitting the walls with alarming force. There wasn't much in the room to begin with (most of it had been moved to the adjoining room), but what remained seemed to take on a magical life of their own. After several moments, Harry calmed and the wild magic faded, leaving the weakened wizard still and shivering.

Both men let out relieved sighs and when Severus looked up, he found Remus' eyes glassy and his expression fraught with concern.

Remus met his gaze. "I can't lose him too, Severus," he choked. He sat down on Potter's other side and picked up a limp hand. Severus watched him pull himself together. "I don't know what I would do," he said softly.

Severus secretly agreed. He was unsure how he would react if Potter failed to make it through this simple affliction. It seemed inconceivable that the Boy Who Lived, the Man Who Defeated the Dark Lord, the Chosen One, could be brought down by a virus because of a ginger root allergy. Even though they were administering the modified calming potion now, it was weaker and less effective, and the initial allergic reaction and subsequent damage were cause for great alarm. Harry was not out of danger yet.

"We will not lose him, Remus," Severus said, wishing he felt his words with the same conviction he had spoken them with.

Remus nodded and idly paced across the room. "I was in Harry's room earlier and I found three empty vials."

Severus lifted his brows. "Three?" he said with some surprise. "So he was sick for some time before he collapsed."

"So it seems," Remus responded as he began to tidy the room from the recent burst of wild magic.

"Bloody noble, idiotic Gryffindor." Severus brushed the dark fringe off Harry's damp forehead. "Wait a minute," Severus said, rising. "Let me see those vials." Remus handed them to him and Severus uncorked one. One sniff was all Severus needed.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

Severus sighed, placed the vials in his robe pocket and summoned the blanket that Harry had kicked off. He gently laid it back over Harry. "He knew he was allergic. The potion he was taking didn't contain ginger root."

Remus clutched at the hair on his head. "We shouldn't have forced it down his throat in a panic. I thought Poppy was going to kill us."

Severus nodded sadly, running his wand over Harry's body again. His temperature was still so high.

Remus sighed, catching Severus attention. "You can admit it, you know."

Severus turned away and busied himself straightening up Harry's bed. "Admit what?"

"That you care for him."

Severus snorted. "Of course, I care for him, you idiot," he snapped. "Would I be giving up all my time to be here if I didn't?"

"That isn't what I meant."

Severus sent him a bland look. "And what, pray tell, did you mean?"

"I've seen the way you look at him-"

"You've seen nothing. If your hyper-sensitive, wolf-like senses delude you into seeing-"

"You can lie to yourself, Severus. But you can't lie to me."

Now Severus snorted. "I happen to excel at lying, Lupin," he said indignantly. "Kindly remember that. Were I lying, I assure you, you'd never know it."

"You are also excellent at evading sensitive subjects-"

"Just drop it, Remus," Severus growled. "I have no desire to-"

"Oh, I think you have a great desire for-"

"Severus."

Harry's weak plea drew both their attentions and they hastily moved to his side.

"I'm here, Potter," Severus said, picking up a limp hand.

Harry's head rocked on the pillow slowly. "Severus," he said again. Severus fought to suppress the images that the low, throaty tone of Harry's voice gave him, internally cursing Remus for bringing it up.

But it was only a fevered dream. Harry did not wake up. Severus refused to put significance on the fact that Harry had called out for him in his sleep. Remus, however, had no such qualms.

"You see," Remus said smugly. "Harry feels the-"

"Lupin," Severus snapped. "You don't know that. You don't even know if he is - if he swings that way."

Remus scowled as if disappointed in the fact that it was true; he didn't know as much about Harry as he'd like to. Snape knew that Potter kept a lot to himself. He was no longer an overemotional boy. He had matured into a man who had control of his temper, could suppress his emotions and guard his thoughts carefully. Very Slytherin. Severus was attracted to all this, to Harry, more than he cared to admit.

"Well," Remus speculated. "He hasn't even mentioned a girl since he was at school and-"

"Enough," Severus interrupted. "I will not have this conversation with you."

"Then you're a fool," Remus shot back. "I've watched you two become closer and I've seen and felt the chemistry between you. You could be happy."

"Remus." Severus sighed. Remus had lost Tonks in the war. It was obvious who he was thinking about when he went of on one of his, 'If you have a chance at love, grab it while you can' rants.

"You have a chance to-"

Severus spun away. "I'm going to see if I can manage some sleep before Potter's next dose," he announced. "Call me if you need me."

Severus left the room and closed the door before Remus could say anything else. Perhaps Severus was a fool. But he was a fool with a whole heart, one that he had never allowed to be broken. And he wasn't going to allow it now.

******

Harry was so cold. Shivering, he tried to burrow further into his pillow, but then he felt a heat source close by. Instinctively, he nestled closer to it, finding a body beside him. Warmth. Harry curled up to it.

His mind tried to back track over recent events but all he could recall was giving Amanda Shane her last dose of sneezing remedy. He must have succumbed to the virus. Sighing, he hoped Remus had-

Remus?

Harry groaned and prayed that he hadn't done anything foolish. The hospital was Harry's domain. He would die of humiliation if he'd shown any weakness in front of Snape. What would Snape have thought of him if couldn't take care of himself?

"Potter?"

Harry groaned again. He knew that voice. It had featured prominently in various fantasies. Cracking open one eye, he saw the dark figure looming over to him. The light was a bit too much and he quickly closed it again.

"Kindly unwind yourself from my person," Snape said mildly enough.

Harry jerked away from his source of heat and instantly regretted it. His entire body screamed out in protest. Fortunately, his cry of pain only came out as a grunt due to his raw throat.

"Do not move so quickly," Snape said and Harry felt the bed dip as he got out of it. "You are going to be very sore."

'Sore' was a gross understatement, Harry discovered. And - damn it - Snape must have seen his pain.

"'M sorry." This time it came out as more of a croak but Snape must have understood because he snorted.

"No need to apologize, you Gryffindor half-wit," he said. "At least not for that."

"Don't want to be a burden."

Snape sighed. "When the most powerful wizard of our day falls ill, it is cause for concern."

Harry wondered what that meant. Fortunately Snape was feeling generous because he told him.

"Your wild magic caused some distress in the hospital wing so you were isolated."

Harry cringed at the thought. He hadn't realized what kind of damage he could do, how he could have hurt someone. He was a Gryffindor half-wit. Oh, no. "Ginger root," he managed to say, wincing at more than the pain.

Snape pressed a finger to his lips and Harry was unaccountably pleased at the gentle touch. In fact, he had to fight to keep from poking his tongue out to taste that long elegant digit.

"Shh. We know about the allergy," Snape said. "At least now we do. You should have said something," he added, his tone becoming stern.

Harry swallowed and looked away. He couldn't do anything right around Snape.

The door opened, stalling any response. Harry was glad to see Remus although he was a bit embarrassed by all the fussing.

"Severus and I have been taking care of you," Remus said, tucking blankets around Harry. "Well, mostly Severus because he has more experience with the potions but…" He trailed off and looked at Harry with a strange expression. "And you had a nasty reaction to one of the draughts. Harry, we thought we were going to lose you."

Feeling guilty again, Harry closed his eyes.

"Lupin," Snape interjected. "You're rambling."

"I'm sorry," Remus said, a bit abashed. "It's just that-"

Snape waved a hand and said, "If you're going to get maudlin, I'll leave you to it. I need to run over to my lab to collect some more potion for the fever." He approached Harry and Harry stared up at him as he laid a hand over his forehead. "Yes," he murmured. "You'll need it." He met Harry's gaze. "I shall return shortly."

Both Harry and Remus watched him turn in a flutter of robes and leave the room. Harry let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. When he looked back up at Remus, Remus was staring at him with a knowing look.

******

The next few days were fraught with emotional turmoil for Harry. Every time he awoke, Snape was there, laying cool flannels on his brow, or holding a cup of water to his lips, or forcing potions down his throat. Harry felt like an invalid and Snape saw the whole embarrassing, debasing event. He couldn't even go to the loo by himself.

Harry understood why Snape and Remus were the ones caring for him. He was told that he had overturned beds and sent shelves flying with his wild magic before he had been isolated. And Remus had told him that he had even caught Snape unawares on the first night of his illness and hit him with an inkwell, blackening his eye and staining his robes. Harry wanted to argue that Snape shouldn't complain, because the ink had been black, but he didn't have the strength.

But Harry couldn't stand for Snape to see him like this. He had probably treated Snape worse than he ever did as a student in the past two days, but he couldn't help it. And Snape was just so nice about the whole affair. Even when Harry snapped at him, Snape just continued in his calm and sarcastic manner.

It was after another illness-induced tirade by Harry that Snape finally broke, sneering at him and leaving the room. Once again, Harry watched him leave, feeling bitter about his misfortune. Remus was staring at him again and Harry half expected a lecture on being nice to people who were trying to help you.

"What?" Harry snapped.

"Severus has barely left your side," Remus said. "He cares for you a great deal."

Harry looked away. At another time, that statement would have thrilled him, but in his current state, it only served to depress him more. "He must think I'm such a weakling," he muttered.

"What?"

Harry looked back. Remus appeared surprised. "I collapsed in my own hospital," Harry began. "I'm as weak as a kitten - I can barely go to the loo without assistance."

Remus sat down on the bed beside him. "Harry, it was only a matter of time before you got the virus. You were extraordinary. Just like in the war, you rose to the challenges the best you could-"

"But I didn't tell anyone when I started to get sick. Snape's already given me an earful about how selfish and irresponsible it was."

Remus sighed. "Harry, that's just your nature. You've never been able to ask for help. You were the only one left to help those that were ill in the infirmary and you stubbornly refused to allow yourself to fall prey to the illness until the epidemic was over. Poppy believes it was sheer will."

"Yeah, well, what Poppy believes and what Snape thinks are two entirely different things," Harry muttered.

"What was that?" Remus asked.

"Nothing."

"And just like Severus you've diverted the topic away from the issue at hand."

Harry's head jerked up. So he was going to get that lecture anyway. "What issue?"

"Honestly, Harry, if the two of you are too stubborn to see what's right in front of you then I don't know why I bother."

"What am I supposed to being seeing?"

"Just the rest of your heart, Harry."

******

Harry stood nervously while Snape collected the remaining potion vials.

"What are you waiting for?" Snape growled. "You're free to go."

"I-I wanted to say thank you," Harry stuttered, cursing himself for being so tongue-tied.

"So you've said it," Snape said. "Good-bye."

The bloody man still hadn't looked at him. "Snape."

"What?" It was a growl.

"I'm sorry I was such a lousy patient."

"Most medical personnel are," Snape informed blandly. "Why should you be different? Oh, I forgot. You're Harry Potter. Of course, you have to be different. Well, you weren't. You're not super human, after all. Too bad."

Harry blinked, feeling stung. "I'm sorry," Harry said softly. "I just didn't want you to think- I'll go. Thank you again." He moved towards the door.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

Harry stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "That I couldn't take care of myself."

"Potter, you imbecile," Snape said with exasperation. "You had a highly volatile strain of wizarding flu and an allergy to one of the remedies. You could NOT take care of yourself."

"I see," Harry whispered. He left quickly an...