Harry could not believe his luck. Snape was forcing him to live in his rooms and he was falling sick for staying out in the rain too long. He began to change his clothes not because Snape told him to but because he wanted to get out of his wet clothing.

After changing into the pyjamas Snape had left him (Harry was surprised to find a clean pair of boxers in the mix but was, nonetheless, grateful), Harry climbed into bed. He felt strange and slightly humiliated to be in the Potions master's bed. Snape's bed out of all people! Harry would have been able to handle it if the piece of furniture had belonged to someone like Professor McGonagall but Snape? Maybe the impending fever was making The Boy Who Lived delusional.

The door opened and Snape returned. He levitated Harry's clothes and brought them out. Harry guessed that Snape was going to hang them near the fireplace so that he didn't need to waste magic on 'The Golden Boy'. The professor then came back and he looked at Harry, no emotion showing in his black eyes.

"Comfortable?" Snape asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Not particularly," Harry scoffed. This was partially true; the bed was soft and warm but its owner made it almost unbearable to lie in.

"Get some rest, Potter. That fever's only going to get worse," Snape said before leaving the room again.

Harry slumped into the pillows. When he did, sleep took over and Harry knew no more.

Harry woke up a few hours later to an aching throat. Pushing his pride aside with immense difficulty, he tried to call out to Snape to see whether he had a tonic or something but barely a sound came out of his mouth. Harry sighed. The loss of his voice will thrill Snape. The Gryffindor banged on the wooden headboard to get the Potions master's attention.

Snape burst in, seething. Harry felt some sort of satisfaction at seeing Snape annoyed out of his wits.

"Don't bang on the bed, Potter! Use your voice or is talking beneath you?" Snape snarled silkily.

Harry thought for a minute and then he reached for the bedside table. He pulled the drawer open and found a notebook, a quill and an ink bottle. He took them out, unstopped the bottle, dipped the quill and scribbled in the notebook.

"Hey, what are you—?" Snape began, confusion shinning in his voice, but Harry cut him off by tearing a page from the notebook and passing it to him. Snape took the paper with his eyebrows raised.

"I can't talk. Lost my voice," Snape read aloud. His lips curled into a smile. "Well then, I see an improvement already, Mr Potter," he added gleefully.

Harry glared at him and stuck his hand out. Snape gave him the paper back and Harry wrote something else on it before re-giving it to the man he hated.

"Shut up, you snarky bastard. Why, you—" Snape said angrily.

Harry smiled mischievously. Then he saw Snape looking at him closely. A little too closely for Harry's liking.

"You certainly don't look improved, just as I had predicted," Snape said. "The bathroom's right outside the chamber if you need it but let me know when you're going to use it so I can keep the portrait open. There's no way that I'm giving you my password."

There was a pause in which Harry was gazing at his professor questioningly. He then dipped his quill in more ink before writing another message. This time instead of tearing the page out, Harry turned the notebook so that Snape could see what he wrote.

"What do I mean when I saw you don't look improved? Your face is as white as a sheet and your cheeks are quite red. Not a healthy image, Potter," Snape replied calmly.

Harry scribbled again.

"Oh is right," Snape said when Harry showed him the two-letter word. "You are officially sentenced to bed rest and if I have to chain you to the bed or cast a full Body-Bind curse upon you to get you to obey, I will," he added, waving his wand threateningly.

Harry rolled his eyes but grudgingly nodded. Snape turned on his heels and was about to exit the room again when he paused at the doorway. He faced Harry.

"I'm off to find Professor McGonagall to tell her of your condition. Do you want me to drop by the kitchens and bring you something to eat?" Snape asked.

Surprised at the offer, Harry shook his head. He wasn't very hungry. Snape gave a curt nod and left, his black robes sweeping the floor behind him.

"You've found him?"

That was Professor McGonagall's answer when Snape had entered her office and had told her that he needed to discuss something about Potter. Her beady eyes became filled with relief when he told her that he had, indeed, found the boy and she looked as if she could have kissed her colleague. Snape was secretly grateful that she didn't.

"Pomona, Filius, Gilderoy and myself have been looking everywhere for Potter ever since Mr Weasley and Miss Granger came to me and reported that Mr Potter had left the fourth floor study area and they hadn't seen him for hours afterwards! Where was he, Severus?" McGonagall asked frantically.

"I had crossed paths with him in the Entrance Hall where he had informed me that he had spent a few hours outdoors," Snape replied indifferently.

McGonagall blinked.

"Out-Outdoors?" she repeated, as if she had not heard correctly. "In this weather?" She looked out her window, where the rain continued to pour down hard.

"Yes, Minerva, outdoors. He was soaked from head to toe and he now has a fever because of it." Snape sighed.

"Goodness! Is that where Potter is now? In the Hospital Wing?" McGonagall inquired.

"No, he's lying in bed in my chamber," Snape answered. "Only because he didn't want to go to the Hospital Wing!" he added hastily as he saw McGonagall's mouth fall open.

"How so?"

"Potter fears that the other students might take advantage of him being in the hospital to cause him harm or something since many strongly believe that he is the Heir of Slytherin," Snape explained casually.

McGonagall's expression darkened.

"I don't believe that Potter has been attacking students. Thank you for taking him in though I'm surprised that you did," she said.

"I'm not going to let him contaminate the school, Minerva. I hope that Potter makes a speedy recovery; I can't stand the thought of keeping him for ages."

"Yes, because recovering from a fever takes much longer than being revived from being Petrified when there's no Draught of Mandrake," McGonagall said, sarcasm ringing in her voice. "A potion which, I may remind you, Severus, takes a long time to make."

"All right, all right. You've made your point; I'll tend to Potter as long as he needs it," Snape said grudgingly.

"Thank you, Severus."

"Do you mind not telling anyone else of this except for our colleagues? I greatly do not wish that the rest of the students know about this," Snape asked.

"Let me guess: you don't want them to think that you actually care about the boy?" McGonagall sighed.

"Naturally. And I do not care about Potter, Minerva! Don't get any ideas!"

"I do not expect anything less from you, Severus." McGonagall surprised Snape by giving him a rare smile. He did not dare to try to see what she was thinking.

"Good. That's good I guess," Snape trailed off uncertainly.

McGonagall gave him a curt nod.

"Severus, before you go, I have a message from Poppy. She needs to consult you about the Draught of Mandrake and she wants you to meet her at her office as soon as you can," McGonagall said, sitting at her desk.

"I will go straight to her."

"What about Potter? I'm sure Poppy won't mind meeting you at your chamber instead."

"Potter can survive without me for a few extra minutes. If he can escape the Dark Lord's grasp more than once he can take care of himself for a bit."

"Hm." Snape saw a flicker of annoyance flit across the Transfiguration professor's face. He could tell that she preferred to be the one to care for Potter since she was his Head of House but Snape was the one with the expertise in the art of potion making; between the two of them, he was the one who knew what Potter needed and he knew how to brew those potions correctly.

"Very well but don't take too long," McGonagall finally said after a moment of silence. She took out her notes and she began to browse through them. Snape took the gesture as an act of dismissal and left the office.

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