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Sick Day


Severus apparated directly into the hallway, one of few with the privilege, and hung his scarf and cloak up on their usual peg. Oddly, all was quiet in the spacious flat, and he frowned to himself.

He knew Harry was supposed to be home, but usually there was evidence of the younger man in the way of noise, the radio or the muggle television box playing at the very least.

Walking into the hallway, he found his answer almost immediately. Curled up on the sofa, with a fluffy blanket covering him from his toes up to his neck, was a pale Harry Potter, his body shaking slightly.

"Harry?"

No reply.

Walking closer, Severus felt a small smile lift his lips as he crouched down in front of the sofa, his eyes lining up with the pitiful gaze of his boyfriend.

"What've you done to yourself, idiot?" he asked fondly, reaching out a hand to gently shift the hair away from Harry's face.

"Just a cold," Harry mumbled out, pulling the blanket even tighter against his chin.

"Why didn't you send for me?" Severus asked, his fingers trailing Harry's brow as he checked his temperature.

"Nothing serious," Harry argued in a wobbly whisper. "Didn't want to disturb you."

Severus shook his head, standing - though he paused to press a kiss to Harry's temple. He walked to the fireplace, throwing in the floo powder and calling out for the hospital wing. Within moments, he had a potion from Poppy that would have Harry feeling better in no time.

He placed the potion vial on top of the mantle and moved to the kitchen. He worked quickly and efficiently, setting a soup up to heat. Cooking was very much like potions, though oddly enough, Harry excelled at cooking while his potions were still, sadly, atrocious.

Twenty five minutes passed, and Severus was returning to his poorly boyfriend with a tray, complete with tea, soup and potion.

Harry looked at him as though he'd lost his mind.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sitting up with difficulty when Severus prompted him too.

"If you lack the wisdom to look after yourself when ill, I'll have to do it for you," Severus replied, tucking the blanket in properly before he handed Harry the bowl and spoon. "Eat. You can have a potion after and it will make you feel better, you little twit."

"Really feeling the love, Sev," Harry muttered, though there was a tender look in his eyes that belied the words.

He ate the soup carefully, trying not to cough and tip it everywhere, and, when it was done, he downed the potion without complaint. Harry was sure that, now that he knew Harry would be fine, Severus would leave him to his own devices.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Severus tidied the area Harry had been wallowing in, straightening the books and spelling away the many used tissues that littered the area. Harry reached out a hand to take the book he'd been reading - Sociopath or Psychopath, What Makes The Difference - out of Severus' way, only to have his hand slapped away.

"I need to finish that for my classes, Severus," he said, lifting his hand once more.

Severus just put the book on the table and shook his head. Harry was currently studying muggle psychology, for reasons which Severus still didn't understand. For how powerful he was, Harry was still very modest about his abilities.

Had the young man been a Slytherin, he would be the Minister for Magic by now, Severus had no doubt.

Still, his modesty was one of the things Severus enjoyed about Harry, so he wasn't about to argue the point. Done with his cleaning, he refreshed Harry's teacup and made one for himself, setting it on the side table that Harry had long ago transfigured from a Galleon.

They'd had a heated argument over that, Severus remembered. He'd been sure that the table would turn back into its original state within the day, and Harry had been sure that it wouldn't. Severus had been too amazed that the younger was correct to be mad that he'd been wrong.

Lifting Harry gently, Severus inserted himself beneath him, and keeping him wrapped in his blanket, arranged the younger man on his knee. He summoned the book Harry needed to read, and opened it up to the last marked page.

Without explanation, he began to read, his spare hand stroking through the black hair of the man in his lap. In mere moments, Harry was boneless on his knee, bright green eyes looking up at him with adoration.

A little over an hour later, Severus noticed Harry's eyes drooping. He marked the page and set the book aside, ignoring Harry's protest of, "Just one more chapter."

"Sleep, you little wretch," Severus murmured, wrapping his arms firmly around Harry's torso. "You'll feel better when you wake up and you can read until your heart's content."

Harry snuggled into Severus' chest. "Thank you."

"It is nothing that you do not deserve," Severus replied simply, holding Harry close. He still felt the occasional stab of anger at Harry's relatives - it was their fault that Harry didn't think he could rely on anyone when he was feeling bad.

"Love you, Sev."

"I love you too. Sleep."


When Harry woke up, he was indeed feeling better, and he proceeded to show Severus just how thankful he was.


Written for;

Hogwarts Book Club - Albert - Powerful / Cooking / Galleon

Hogwarts TV Show of the month - Sherlock - Severus / Scarf / Sociopath

Stickers - Ravenclaw - Wisdom

Insane House Challenge - 463. Blanket

Dragon Appreciation Month - 904

Writing Month - 904

Ways To Say - 30. "One more chapter."