Sick Leave

The staff at Hogwarts hadn't seen Gilderoy Lockhart for days. He had bolted the door to his room and office shut; people were beginning to worry. Whenever someone passed they could hear small whimpering sounds and the occaisional pained cry.

"He must be ill, Albus," Professor McGonagal sighed over the cup of tea she held, as she sat with Dumbledore in his office. "I think you should try to see him."

"I suppose you're right, Minerva. I shall go visit him this afternoon."

True to his word, Dumbledore made his way to Lockhart's room. He knocked gently on the door. "Gilderoy?" No answer but a barely muffled squeak. "Gilderoy!" Still there came no answer. Dumbledore drew his wand and whispered "Alohoroma," before entering. The room was completely dark, which was unusal for Lockhart. Dumbledore took a few steps in before hearing a cracked whisper.

"Please…please don't come any closer."

"What's wrong, Gilderoy?"

"Erm…I'm ill. Please, will you get Professor Snape, and only Professor Snape for me? He'll no doubt have the potion I need." Dumbledore started to take another step forward, towards the meek voice. "No…please, I don't…uhm, I don't want to risk contamination, I don't know if what's wrong with me it catching."

Dumbledore sighed "Very well, Gilderoy, if you're sure that's best. I will fetch Professor Snape for you."

"Thank you…thank you, headmaster."

"Enter," said Snape dryly; Dumbledore shuffled into his office. "Yes, headmaster?"

"Severus, Gilderoy Lockhart is ill."

Snape's eyes widened, but further than that showed no reaction. "Yes?"

"He asked that you go see him – he seemed to think you'd have the potion he needed that would help him."

Snape sighed loudly. "Very well. Did it seem urgent?"

"I think so, he seemed quite distressed."

"I will see him as soon as I can then."

Dumbledore looked at Snape from over his glasses. "Severus – don't delay your visit more than is needed."

Snape smirked. "You know me too well, headmaster." Dumbledore hmm-ed and left.

No sooner had Dumbledore left Snape's office had whispers rippled throughout the school of Lockhart's mystery illness. Many of the less friendly whispers (generally coming from the direction of second year Gryffindor boys) were suggesting he might even die. Dumbledore made an announcement at supper to quash such rumours, but some of the younger girls were still worrying. Their worry was not alieviated when all potions lessons were cancelled for the next two days, He was said to be working furiously on an emergency potion that would cure Lockhart's malady.

In fact, Snape was working hard at a poition for Lockhart. He had been to see him, as Dumbledore had asked. Lockhart had told him what was wrong, and Snape knew immediately what was needed. He had found all the supplies in his stores, and begun brewing straight away. He worked at the potion endlessly; he was noticebly missing from the dining hall at meal times.

After two days hard work, the potion was finally finished. Snape went straight to Lockhart's quarters when the work was done. He knocked on the door to let Lockhart know who was there and then let himself in. He walked over to one of the darkened corners of the room, where Lockhart lay silently in his bed. He put the potion bottle down on the bedside cabinet. He laid a hand on Lockhart's forehead; he didn't seem to have a temperature. "Gilderoy." He picked up the bottle again. "Drink this." Snape helped Lockhart sit up and handed him the potion bottle. He'd never seen Lockhart like this before. Lockhart took the purple potion in one gulp, as though it were little else than water. He coughed slightly, handing the bottle back to Snape. Lockhart ran a hand through his hair.

"Has it worked?" He looked worried.

Snape sighed. "Yes, Gilderoy. Magical Milly's Patented Anti-Frizz potion has indeed worked. You are frizz-free at last."

Lockhart looked up at Snape with the look of someone who's just been told that their leg would not need to be amputated. "Oh, Severus! Thank Salazar for that!" He looked at Snape. "Thank you for helping, Sev, I knew you'd understand me!"

Snape was quite sure the word Lockhart meant to use was humour, and not understand, but said nothing of it.

"Not a problem at all, Gilderoy. Although I do think that quite a few second years will be most disappointed that they won't get to see you in a state of…well, unkemptness."

"Good god, you didn't tell them!"

Snape grinned. "Of course not." Lockhart hit him on the arm.

"You're such a bully."

"Indeed I am, Gilderoy, and that's precisely why you love me."

Lockhart smirked. "You know full well that's not the only reason."

Snape hit Lockhart back. "As much as I'd love to stay and cement your reasons for loving me," he said, getting up again, "I have a lesson to teach. You go ahead and make the most of your dramatic recovery."

Lockhart beamed at Snape, who stood at the open door. "All due to Professor Snape's vast knowledge of potions, of course."

Snape nodded mockingly. "Of course, Gilderoy. I shall see you later."

Snape closed the door behind him, only to find himself face to face with a rather concerned looking Dumbledore. "Is everything well, Severus?"

"Ah, yes, headmaster. Absolutely fine. I think he should probably remain rested for another day or two."

"If you think that's best."

"I do, headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded and walked away. Snape smirked and made his way back to his office, wondering exactly how he'd entertain Lockhart on his additional sick leave.