Cooling the Magic 4

It was nearly two hours later when Madam Pomfrey returned to Harry's room, where his three friends were gathered around his bed, talking in hushed voices, while Harry was gripping his head in agony.

"What's wrong?" Pomfrey queried as she rushed to Harry's side.

"My head," Harry groaned, "it hurts terribly. I think it's my scar though. Someone seems to be very happy and is shouting something of finally having a corporal body. What happened?"

"Here, drink this," Pomfrey instructed the boy, pressing a phial against his lips, before she made a bird appear out of the tip of her wand, causing Harry's friends to observe in amazement how the bird disappeared through the wall.

A short while later, the Headmaster entered the small room closely followed by professors McGonagall and Snape. Harry's friends immediately retreated to his desk to be out of the way but still be able to listen.

"Please make it short, Albus; Mr. Potter is very ill," Pomfrey said sternly, before she turned to Harry. "Harry, can you please open your eyes for a moment? Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape are here to speak with you."

Harry blinked and finally forced his eyes open, throwing his Head of House a questioning look. However, it was the Headmaster, who chose to speak first. "Harry, did I understand it correctly that your scar hurts and you can all of a sudden feel someone else's emotions through the scar?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied miserably, fiercely rubbing his forehead.

"Don't do that, Harry." Snape leaned over him, gently prying his hands from his burning forehead.

"Today, something very grave happened," the Headmaster began to explain heavily. "Professor Quirrell has obviously been possessed by Voldemort's spirit. Unfortunately, Professor Snape and I only realised it last night, and we weren't fast enough to think about a method to force his spirit out. Tonight, Voldemort's spirit apparently forced Professor Quirrell to lead a troll into the castle only to advise the same troll later on to kill Professor Quirrell. As soon as the troll killed Professor Quirrell, Voldemort's spirit took possession of his body. The body is, of course, badly injured; however, Voldemort is in possession of a body after merely being a spirit for ten years."

"Fortunately, Professor Snape and I realised immediately what had happened, and we called the Aurors, who have taken Voldemort straight to Azkaban in spite of his injuries. However, considering how powerful he is, I can imagine that he'll be the first person to manage an outbreak from Azkaban, and what is even worse is that he is obviously connected to you through your scar."

"As soon as you're recovered from the flu, I'll begin to teach you Occlumency," Snape continued the Headmaster's explanation. "If you learn how to occlude your mind, you'll hopefully be able to block his thoughts and feelings."

Suddenly, Harry began to whimper, gripping his head as if he was in utmost pain. "He... just... realised that he is in Azkaban," he breathed, ending up in a coughing fit.

His Head of House took a seat on the edge of his bed and gently began to rub circles into the boy's back. "Harry, Madam Pomfrey is going to give you a sleeping draught now, so you'll be able to get some rest from the pain. We're going to take turns staying with you during the night," he said in a soft voice, causing Harry to reach for the professor's cold hand and gratefully squeeze it. "Very well then, Ms. Granger, Ms. Bulstrode, Mr. Zabini, return to your common rooms, Albus and Minerva, if you could take over in a few hours' time, I'm going to take the first shift."

'How bad can this get, and why is it always me to have strange problems?' Harry mused in annoyance. 'I thought I was punished enough by this strange illness.'

Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape watched in concern as he finally succumbed to the potion they had just administered and drifted off to sleep.

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To the adults' concern, it took Harry much longer to recover from the wizard's flu than they had expected. Even after the symptoms of the flu were finally gone, his fever remained too high for their liking.

"Please, Madam Pomfrey, let me go to class," Harry begged the Mediwitch every morning, causing her to sigh in exasperation.

"I am sorry, Harry, but as long as your fever is exceeding thirty-nine degrees in the morning, I cannot and I will not allow you to attend classes. We want you to survive the school year, sweetie," Madam Pomfrey told him each time, knowing that he was in no condition to follow a class, let along walk through the huge castle from one classroom to the next. It was nearly the end of November, when the Mediwitch grudgingly allowed Harry out of bed.

Harry was glad to be able to attend classes again, although he noticed that the magic aggravated his condition more than he remembered from before catching the flu, and almost every second day he returned to his room at lunchtime, knowing that he wouldn't be able to go to any of his afternoon classes.

The teachers worriedly observed him, realising that his recent illness seemed to have aggravated his condition greatly. Nevertheless, they couldn't prevent him from falling ill again on the first day of the winter holidays, a few days after the hospital wing had been full with students recovering from a bout of bronchitis. As before, Harry tried as well as he could to hide how bad he felt as he accompanied the teachers to Hogsmeade to see his friends off to the station, knowing that he definitely wouldn't want to spend the first day of the holidays in bed.

On their way back to the castle, Professor Snape asked, "Mr. Potter, are you busy with your homework, or would you care to assist me brew a few potions for the hospital wing?"

"Oh yes, Professor, I'd like that," Harry replied, smiling. 'I love to brew, and it's so cool that he asked me,' he thought happily as he followed the professor into his private lab. Harry diligently prepared the ingredients for three different potions for the professor, who quietly busied himself with the brewing process right next to his student. Each of them enjoyed the quiet that was only disturbed a few times when Harry had to enquire about the way of preparing a certain ingredient. By the time Harry had finished preparing everything for the third potion, he felt utterly exhausted and unconsciously let out a relieved sigh as he leaned back in his chair, causing the professor to throw him a concerned glance.

Seeing that the boy's eyes were glazed over and his cheeks were more flashed than usual, Snape quickly cast a stasis charm on the potion he was just brewing and turned to his student. "Mr. Potter, you look sick. Are you feeling all right?" he asked softly.

"Not really," Harry admitted, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hide it from the professor, who knew him too well. A few minutes later, he found himself lying on a most comfortable sofa in the professor's living room with a thermometer stuck under his armpit, while the professor was examining his throat, ears and eyes with the help of a light emerging from the tip of his wand.

"Bronchitis, I'm afraid," Snape told him the verdict, frowning at the display indicating the temperature.

Harry had to remain the whole holidays in bed, and once again his illness worsened his overall condition. By the time his first Hogwarts year ended, he had come down with two more illnesses, and the teachers became more and more concerned about his health condition.

"We have to come up with a different solution for his treatment," Snape said to his colleagues during the last staff meeting before the end of the year tests. "What are we going to do with him during the summer holidays by the way?"

"He must return to his relatives," the Headmaster replied, slowly unwrapping a lemon drop.

"No!" Pomfrey, McGonagall and Snape shouted simultaneously.

"He'll be dead by the end of the summer," the Potions Master declared, growling at the Headmaster.

"Exactly," Pomfrey agreed.

"Then you will have to become his guardian and take him in," Dumbledore replied evenly, popping the lemon drop into his mouth.

"How am I supposed to become the guardian of a Potter?" Snape asked in a dangerously quiet voice, ignoring the small voice at the back of his head that had the gall to whisper, 'You already know that Harry is very different from his father and possesses Lily's personality.'

"Lily would be happy to know that you're her son's guardian, Severus. You're Harry's Head of House, and the boy is already attached to you," Pomfrey said softly, smiling at her younger colleague.

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One morning when Harry woke up, he noticed with surprise that an additional door had appeared in his room overnight. 'I wonder where that leads,' he mused while he patiently waited for Madam Pomfrey to come and check on him. 'Only two more days and I'll have to return to the Dursleys'. Will they give me potions to take during the holidays?' he wondered, groaning in despair at the prospect of having to spend the summer with his relatives.

"Good morning, Harry," Madam Pomfrey's voice penetrated his ears, and Harry quickly answered the greeting, feeling immediately reassured by the kind witch's presence. "What is making you so upset?" the Healer asked in concern, noticing that his forehead felt even warmer than normal.

Harry told her about his worries, hurrying because he knew the witch urgently wanted to stick the thermometer under his tongue.

"Oh sweetie, you don't have to worry. You're too ill to return to the Muggle world. Professor Snape is going to become your guardian, so that you'll be able to remain here. The new door over there leads to his private quarters. He wanted to speak with you last night, but since your fever was a tad on the high side, we thought it would be better to let you sleep first. However," she pulled the beeping thermometer out, "your fever is even higher now. Do you have the impression as if you had caught something? Does anything hurt?"

"No." Harry slightly shook his head. "Only my head hurts. Voldemort was very upset during the night, and I didn't sleep well. Maybe I also used a bit too much magic yesterday in the Defence test. Ever since then I haven't been feeling too well."

"All right, Harry. You're going to stay in bed today," Pomfrey said firmly. "I'll inform your teachers."

"No Madam Pomfrey; I can't miss my Transfiguration test," Harry said horrified. "Please let me go."

"I'm afraid not," the Healer replied firmly, placing an ice-cold cloth on his forehead. "Calm down, Harry. Otherwise, you'll only aggravate your condition even further. You'll be able to take your test during the holidays."

Fortunately, Transfiguration was the only test Harry missed, and he managed to complete all of his other exams flawlessly. Too soon for his liking the school year was over and his friends had to return home. Harry promised to write and to ask his new guardian if it would be possible for his friends to visit him during the holidays.

"Hermione, why don't you take Hedwig with you?" he offered to his friend. "I can use a school owl if I want to send a letter."

Hermione happily agreed, and Harry handed her the owl cage, instructing the girl she could leave it at home after the holidays, because Hedwig wouldn't use it at Hogwarts anyway, since she was residing in the owlery all the time.

"Well, it would be nice having her here, but I can understand that Madam Pomfrey doesn't want to have animals in the hospital wing," Millicent said softly.

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When the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station, Professor McGonagall gently laid her arm around Harry's back. "Don't worry, Harry. You're not alone at Hogwarts. A few of us will be here the whole time."

"Yes Professor," Harry replied. "I know that, and I'm very glad that I'm allowed to remain at Hogwarts instead of going back to my horrible relatives. It's just that I never had friends before and that I'm going to miss them terribly."

"We'll think about something to keep you occupied, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered, raising an eyebrow at the boy. "Are you feeling up to a walk through Hogsmeade? We can go and buy your school books for the upcoming school year if you wish, and I'd like to make a short trip to the apothecary."

"I'd love to go to Hogsmeade," Harry replied enthusiastically. "I've never been there, but the Weasley twins have told me a lot about it."

McGonagall let out a snort and chuckled at the Potions Master's annoyed expression. "Well, have fun the two of you," she smiled and joined the other two Heads of House, who were just turning back in the direction of Hogwarts.

Professor Snape led Harry to the bookshop and to the apothecary, before he ushered him into The Three Broomsticks. "Have you ever tried butterbeer?" he queried after signalling Madam Rosmerta that they wanted two butterbeers.

"No sir, but is it all right for me to have one?" Harry asked hesitantly, remembering that Madam Pomfrey had instructed him not to drink any alcohol when she had reluctantly allowed him to attend the Quidditch victory party in the Slytherin common room a few weeks ago.

"Normally, you should completely refrain from drinking alcohol, for example at Quidditch victory parties and such," the professor explained patiently; "however, if you're together with Madam Pomfrey or me, you can fully rely on us, because we know what you can drink without having to fear that it interferes with your potions."

"All right, thank you, sir," Harry replied, feeling very relieved at the professor's reply. "Professor, may I assist again when you have to brew potions for the hospital wing?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, you may assist whenever your condition allows it," Snape replied in a soft voice. "Your room is now connected to my quarters, and you may feel free to enter my quarters at any time. At first, I thought about asking the house-elves to add a room for you to my quarters, but then Madam Pomfrey and I decided that it would be easier for you to remain where you are with a connecting door to my quarters."

An hour later, the two wizards arrived back at the castle. "I'm afraid that Madam Pomfrey will want to check on you and will probably insist that you take a nap," Snape spoke up after a glance in Harry's flushed and exhausted face. "As soon as she allows you to get up again, I'd like you to come to my living room, because I have something I'd like to discuss with you. I might have an idea that could provide an at least partly solution to your problem with the magic fever. It will be very difficult to achieve, and I can't promise that it'll work, but I believe that it's worth a try."


tbc...

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I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them.

All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.