A/N: I do not own Harry Potter

This story was written for The Houses Competition

House: Hufflepuff

Prompt: [Illness] Headache

Category: Drabble

Position: Prefect

Wordcount: 941

The Golden Snitch

School: Hogwarts

House: Hufflepuff

Challenge: Shrove Tuesday Challenge

Prompt: pinch salt: Write about Severus Snape.

Based on my real life experience of Migraines, unconventional solutions, or symptoms I have experienced! Trust me, take a shower!

The One Where Snape Gave Points To Gryffindor

The dungeons were cold, and there was a heavy silence; the slightest noise stirred the pain in his head. The dripping of the tap, the rustle of the duvet. Severus lay in bed, exhausted. The pain behind his eyes preventing him from focusing on the dim shapes in the blackness. He'd been awake for a while but was desperately willing himself back to sleep.

A pounding headache woke him; it was like a thick band around his head, tightening like a vice. He had got up right away and attempted to take a headache reliever; he had checked his bedside drawer, the bathroom, his office, and even his classroom. Severus was all out.

He thought of going to the hospital wing, but his headache potion was far superior to anything Pomfrey had. Valerian root didn't have the same kick, nor was it able to give—the frequent tension headaches that he was plagued with—the boot. The obvious solution would be to brew it. However, he was dizzy and couldn't brew in his current condition; one slip of the hand and he could 'OD' on Billywig Sting Slime. He'd decided to try the old fashioned way – sleep it off.

This only led to tossing and turning. Severus tried putting pressure where he felt the pain, but that didn't work. He decided to use an unconventional approach that had aided him before. It wasn't a cure, but it did bring relief – sweet relief.

Severus had sat under the powerful, hot shower. The hot water beat down on his head and eased the tension – slightly. Severus sat in the dark, in the shower, for over an hour. He gained some relief, but the headache endured. He had the idea that washing his hair would help. Severus didn't understand why, but that's what his desperation told him. Maybe the headache had made him delirious, because when he opened the shampoo bottle, the faint scent of Hellebore went straight to his headache, aggravating and causing more pain. Obviously, this plan had failed miserably.

Soaking wet, Severus climbed right back into bed, both feeling sorry for himself and angry at the sheer lack of solution. He tossed and turned for some time, waiting and hoping for sleep to give him relief. It didn't happen.

This led Severus check his wristwatch – it was four in the morning. Giving up he forced himself out of bed, and meandered into the potions store to collect the required ingredients. He lit the fire, and immediately he was hit with a fresh wave of pain. With a sneer and a growl at the offending light source, it was extinguished. Light sensitivity – it was getting worse!

He began hobbling around, collecting cauldrons, water, and ingredients. The cauldron began to heat as he prepared the ingredients. As he began extracting the fresh Billywig Sting Slime, he realised just how rancid it smelt, and a wave of nausea overtook him. The smell—if it was even possible—increased the pain.

'Sod it, it's a migraine.'

He wondered if this would mean a day off from teaching? Severus was not a quitter, and so he continued slicing quite nauseously. He was almost done, but queasiness got the better of him, and finally, he vomited. The potion that he needed so desperately was ruined.

Severus wasn't given the morning off. He would be teaching Slytherin and Gryffindor first years while having the world's worst migraine. Albus insisted that Madam Pomfrey's potion would be more than adequate – it wasn't. He sat at his desk, the heels of his hands pressing into his eyes in an attempt to suppress the pain.

'Why does adding pressure make a migraine feel better?'

Severus had finally hatched the perfect plan. The students walked in – silent as usual. He had trained them through fear, and it worked well.

He remained seated, and with a flick of his wrist, the ingredients and instructions were listed on the board. He didn't see the students sitting in stunned silence. He didn't take the register, he didn't take points from Gryffindor, he didn't even belittle Longbottom or mock Potter.

"The student that brews this perfectly will receive points," he mumbled. "Anyone that makes noise will serve detention scrubbing the Quidditch showers – with a toothbrush."

The students worked in silent fear. Severus knew how disgusting the Quidditch showers were; it was a threat he rarely used. It was perhaps one of the more pleasant lessons for some; Longbottom's potion – well it didn't work out, but it also didn't melt the cauldron. Potter got through the lesson without getting any trouble from Malfoy, and Hermione wasn't badgered by Ron.

Finally, a student approached and placed a vial in front of him. Severus analysed it critically; it was electric blue, quite clear, and smelled seemingly perfect – just a hint of Billywig. Severus' headache throbbed. Happy enough, he knocked the potion back.

"Oh, sweet Merlin, that was perfect," he said, not even thinking about where he was or which student was stood in front of him. It took a few moments to kick in, and the headache vanished.

"Erm, you said something about points, sir."

Severus looked up, seeing a bushy-haired Gryffindor with very pronounced teeth. He rolled his eyes. 'Of course.'

"One point to Gryffindor."

"But, sir!" Ron shouted. "You said points, as in multiple!"

"Fine, two points. Ten points from Mr Weasley for shouting, ten points from Miss Granger for loitering, and ten points from Mr Potter for – glaring."

A look of relief passed over the faces of the Slytherins, and Malfoy piped up, "It's good to have you back, Professor."