Author's notes - Just a quick note of explanation about why Rose and Severus didn't watch the Quidditch World Cup in the Top Box. Severus bought the tickets for Rose's birthday from a tour company as part of a holiday package deal. While the seats were on the top row, they were nowhere near the Top Box. Bagman still gave Top Box tickets to Arthur for the favor Mr. Weasley did for him, and Narcissa was given Top Box tickets due to the amount of her donation to St. Mungo's. So, the only thing different about the Top Box in my story than in the book was Rose's absence. Hope you enjoy!
"Draco!"
As Sirius invited Rose and Severus into his tent, the young witch ran excitedly to her Slytherin friend's side. Self-consciously, he took her hand in his as she beamed at him.
"I wish you could have sat with us. I had an obnoxious American sitting next to me shouting curses at the officials. Seriously, an Auror had to warn him that using magic to influence the game was illegal. Oh! Did you buy a set of omnioculars? I put them on slow motion every time Krum went into a dive."
"Mother insisted I bring my own. A good thing, too. They're far superior to the ones you can buy off a cart. They automatically record the highlights of the game. Here, want to see Krum catch the Snitch again?"
As Rose avidly peered through his admittedly more powerful omnioculars, Draco quietly continued, "At least you didn't have to sit in the Top Box. Most of the Ministry officials acted like they might catch something from Mum. They were happy enough to take Father's gold for St. Mungo's a week ago. If not for Sirius, Mother might have left before the match. To add insult to injury, I had to sit behind the Weasel for the whole game. Ruddy git kept turning around to stare at me. And, he wouldn't stop talking about Victor Krum. You'd think he was the only Quidditch player in Bulgaria."
She didn't take her eyes off the omnioculars. "He is a brilliant Seeker."
"He's good, but you could beat him, Potter."
Flushing, she ducked her head at his praise. Then, she reached into the pocket of her jeans to pull out a miniature Firebolt. As it hovered over her hand, she mumbled, "Thought you might like it."
The tiny broom zoomed around the Slytherin's head before landing on his creased navy trousers. Then, the metal foil peeled away to reveal the dark chocolate inside. "Fantastic! I didn't see anything like this. Where'd you find it?"
She shrugged. "Outside the stadium. Honeydukes had a booth near the far entrance."
"Thanks. Want some?"
Not giving her a chance to refuse, he broke the chocolate broom in two, handing her the largest piece. Severus watched as Rose nibbled on the chocolate while she talked animatedly to Draco. His thoughts, however, were far away from the two teens.
Standing next to Narcissa, he answered questions with distracted grunts and one word sentences. When Sirius asked him what was wrong, he chalked up his lack of enthusiasm to fatigue. The Marauder handed him a pint and told him to relax, which counter intuitively sounded like the best advice he'd heard all day. He took a seat in a leather wingback chair on the opposite side of the room and tried to empty his mind.
After a few minutes, he felt a warm hand on top of his. "Severus, what's wrong? I haven't seen that nervous tic on your face since the Dark Lord asked you to brew Veritaserum."
Of course she would notice. With a sigh, he pulled her onto his lap to whisper softly into her ear.
"I ran into Avery after the game. He told me not to stay the night."
To Sirius, her coy smile indicated nothing more interesting than some secretive flirting. Only Severus could feel the tension in her body. Brushing her lips against his neck, she whispered her reply.
"How long?"
"The sooner the better."
"Then I suggest a fever. You've already admitted to fatigue."
Her wand hidden from view, she cast a series of charms that would mimic a significant illness. Slytherins had long been familiar with such spells, although the practice had fallen out of favor since Snape had taken over as Head of House. Already, he could feel his body temperature begin to rise. Gazing lovingly at Narcissa through glassy eyes, he kissed her palm.
Standing, she brushed his hair with her fingers. In a voice which carried, she said, "I should see if Sirius needs any help with dinner. There's nothing wrong with taking a nap. You look tired."
Irritably, he argued that he felt fine, although he made no move to leave the comfortable chair. As the charms continued their work, his heart raced and his muscles ached. But it was a small price to pay to get the people he cared about to safety. Closing his eyes, he waited.
"Professor? Cissy asked me to wake you for dinner. Professor? Are you alright?"
Groaning, Snape opened his eyes. Rose's hand on his arm hurt his extremely sore muscles as they became sensitive to the slightest touch. Sitting in the chair, his heart thudded so heavily in his chest that he doubted the wisdom of standing. And, the inside of the tent seemed stifling hot. Merlin, but he was getting too old for such nonsense.
"I'm fine," he snapped. "Tell her I'll be there shortly."
Only after she had beaten a hasty retreat did he try to stand. He'd never run a marathon, but he imagined his heartbeat would mimic its current pace. Washing up in the loo, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Dark circles ringed his eyes. His lips appeared unnaturally red against his overly pale skin save for two bright patches of color on his cheeks.
Drying his hands, he did his best to ignore his discomfort. Under normal circumstances, he would take great pains to hide an illness, but he was all too aware of the ticking of the clock. He'd have to settle for vigorous denial while allowing his body to tell its own tale.
The smell of the corned beef Sirius served in honor of Ireland's win immediately turned his stomach. Taking small portions, he listlessly pushed his food around his plate, content to be ignored. Halfway through dinner, his fever reached the point where his body started to shiver. As nonchalantly as he could, he put down his fork. There was no point in pretending to eat if his hand was going to shake.
Sirius made the mistake of asking him if he wanted more cabbage at which point he sneered, "What do you think, Black?" Unfortunately, he ended the question with a coughing fit that left him struggling to regain his breath. Narcissa immediately came to his side, her much too cold hand pressed uncomfortably against his cheek.
"You're burning with fever. Why didn't you say anything?"
"I'm fine," he rasped, wishing he had at least drunk some water. "It's a cold, nothing more. Do us all a favor and leave me alone."
His response to Narcissa was so uncharacteristically harsh that her cousin grabbed his wand to perform several diagnostic spells.
"A cold my bloody eye! If your fever were any higher, I'd be hauling you to St. Mungo's."
"Leave it, you insufferable mutt! I'm not going to ruin anyone's holiday over an insignificant virus! I am perfectly fine!"
Springing angrily to his feet, he gripped the chair as his legs wobbled beneath him. Narcissa had certainly done a thorough job. He'd have to thank her once he felt well enough to tolerate anyone's company.
"Please, Professor. Let's go home."
Finally! If he could have, he would have danced for joy. With great reluctance he admitted, "I do feel somewhat under the weather. Perhaps Sirius would allow you to stay here tonight while I return home."
Narcissa immediately contradicted him. "No, Severus. What if your condition worsens? I'll not have you spend the night alone in that drafty old house. For once, you're going to do as you're told. We'll all go."
He sat heavily on the chair with a disgruntled air of defeat. "It's a moot point. I don't think I can Apparate at the moment anyway."
"All the more reason to get you home, you aggravating idiot. I take it you have Fever Reducing Potions in your personal stores?"
He glared at Black, but didn't bother with a retort. He was simply too tired. Besides, the other man knew perfectly well that he kept a large supply of medicinal potions at home.
"Take Rose first. She can show you."
Trading a worried look with Narcissa, Black quickly agreed. "I'll take Rose and Cissy first. Draco can stay to make sure you don't wander off in a delirium."
Resting his head on the table, Snape closed his eyes. He could hear snatches of an argument between Rose and Sirius, but in the end, she left as he had requested.
"You must really hate camping, Professor."
Stifling a groan, he pushed himself upright. Draco sat opposite him, coolly eating a cherry tart.
"Goyle tried the same trick before his Transfiguration exam last year. Of course, he didn't do it half as well as you. Madame Pomfrey had him cleaning bedpans in the Hospital Wing for a week."
He dropped his head back onto the table. Occasionally, he could see Lucius' arrogance in the boy all too well. As a few minutes stretched to ten and then twenty, however, the young man began to fidget. Snape could hear the rustling of the chair cushion. Then, he disappeared, only to reappear at his side with a glass of water.
"Professor? You don't look so good. If you're not faking, I apologize. Either way, you should probably drink the water."
Draco was all too easy to ignore. After a few more shouts of "Professor", the teen went quiet. Eventually, someone grasped him around the chest. He felt the disorientation of Apparition, and then the soft comfort of cool cotton sheets which were not his own. Someone (Narcissa?) pulled off his jeans and fed him a Fever Reducing Potion.
As potion battled charm, he broke out in a heavy sweat. After twenty minutes of intense chills, his temperature finally neared normal. Opening his eyes, he gazed wearily at the beautiful blonde sitting at his bedside in Grimmauld Place.
"I don't think I've ever felt worse. Thank you, Narcissa."
She tenderly pressed a dry flannel to his forehead. "What we do for foolish Gryffindor pride. Rose is safe. You can rest now."
"Once I make sure the Muggle family managing the campsite is safe."
"Surely the Aurors—"
"Are not expecting a Death Eater revel in the middle of the Quidditch World Cup. Avery assured me that it was all in good fun, but I don't trust McNair not to kill someone. It's been almost thirteen years, Narcissa."
Wordlessly, she handed him his jeans. Her eyes were full of fear, but not one word of reproach came from her mouth. After he had dressed, she kissed him passionately, clinging to him for a long moment before smiling through a quiet sniffle.
"Don't do anything too heroic."
His black eyes glittered with amusement. "Of course not. That's what Gryffindors are for." With that, he Apparated away with a loud pop.
Appearing on the dark and deserted dirt road leading to his campsite, Severus could hear the rowdy noises of a multitude of celebrations as the sound carried on the stiff breeze. His wand at the ready, he walked towards the glow of a thousand campfires hoping he wasn't too late. Before he had gone more than a hundred yards, however, he heard the shout of his name.
"Snape! Damn it, Snape! Wait!"
Black. He should have known. With ill-disguised impatience, he waited as the mutt jogged to catch up.
"Don't you know it's impolite to Apparate through the wards? Besides, it's truly unfair to keep all the fun to yourself."
Stupid, pig-headed arse—he could see that Black considered this an exciting romp, precisely the reason he hadn't wanted the Gryffindor's assistance in the first place. Walking briskly towards the well-lit cottage, he tried to curb his enthusiasm.
"Life isn't fair and this isn't fun, Black. Or have you forgotten what Death Eaters tend to do to Muggles?"
"No," he answered soberly. "Although I imagine it pales in comparison to what they do to traitors. What were you thinking, Snape? It would be suicide to confront your old pals single-handedly."
"Precisely why I have no intention of confronting them. I am merely going to suggest to Mr. Roberts that he and his family leave for the night if he hasn't left already."
"And if he doesn't listen?"
"He will. I can be very persuasive."
"I bet you can at that," Black muttered as they approached the tiny house.
Rapping loudly on the wooden door, Severus ignored the prickling feeling of unease that slid down his back. Fear could be useful if it honed one's senses, deadly if it led to panic. With Black standing as a lookout in the shadows, there was absolutely no need to panic.
The manager of the campground prudently kept the chain on the door as he opened it a crack. "Yeah? What do you want?"
"Mr. Roberts, might I come in? There are some safety concerns which need to be addressed."
Far too trusting, the Muggle opened the door to let him inside. The Potions Master's eyes swept the small reception area, but they were alone. Perhaps the man had a shred of sense after all.
"Now see here, No one's ever complained about the quality of the campsite. The drinking water's tested every six months; waste disposal meets all Health and Safety regulations; and the facilities are kept spotlessly clean. Any problems you've encountered are because of that lot out there getting up to God knows what."
"Actually, Mr. Roberts, I was referring to the safety of your family. I'm sure you've noticed the rather boisterous celebrations at the campsite tonight."
The man's eyes went out of focus for a few seconds, but then, he seemed to pull himself together.
"I've noticed. Would've had to be deaf and blind not to. Only, every time I think about doing something about it, I . . . ."
Again, his eyes lost their focus, and Severus cursed the Obliviators for doing such a good job. It would make his all the more difficult.
"Your family is at home, then?"
The man startled and then stared warily at his guest. "Yeah, they're at home, not that it's any of your concern. In fact, I think you should leave now."
Severus stared at the walls as he debated the merits of kidnapping the entire family for their own good. "It's you and your family who should leave, Mr. Roberts, at least for the night. You said so yourself, the campers are an odd lot. Wouldn't it be wise to at least send your wife and daughter away until they leave?"
He could see the Muggle struggle to reach a decision as the Memory Charm clashed against the natural protective instincts of a husband and father. Finally, though, the urge to safeguard his family won out.
"Yeah," he replied, a little distantly at first, but his voice became stronger as he continued. "Yeah, you're right. That lot making all the ruckus could be dangerous, don't know why I hadn't considered that before."
Then, he called for his wife, who appeared after a minute with two sleepy children in tow. Severus recognized the oldest child as the girl with the spinning top.
"Something the matter, Phil?"
He scratched his head. "I'm honestly not sure, Moira, but I'd feel better if you and the children stayed at your Mum's tonight."
"But it's quarter of eleven! She'll be in bed."
"Then, ring her," Snape commanded with a dangerous edge to his voice. "It's later than I thought. You should all leave now."
Surprisingly, the woman obeyed. Within fifteen minutes, she and her two children were driving down the narrow dirt road towards the motorway. Only when her tail lamps had disappeared in the distance did Snape relax. Though he knew it would be useless, he attempted to convince the manager to leave once more.
"You should follow them. Everyone's paid in advance. There's no reason for you to stay."
As he had anticipated, the man's eyes glazed over. "Leave? Why should I leave? Every site's booked. Payne and I'll earn a bonus this month for sure."
"Payne?"
"Sure, he manages the other field. Bit of a loner, but a decent sort. He let me have the cottage on account of my family."
"I see." And, he did. No doubt the other manager had been Obliviated often enough to make it impossible to convince him to leave as well. "A good evening to you, Mr. Roberts."
Before he could make his escape, the Muggle stopped him at the door. "I feel like I should be grateful, though I don't know why. So, thank you, Mr. . . .?"
"Griffin. Godric Griffin. And, I wish I could have done more. Good night, Mr. Roberts."
"A good night to you, Mr. Griffin. Be careful. Bunch of lunatics out there, if you ask me."
"Oftentimes, I agree," he ruefully replied as he walked into the darkness.
Sitting up in bed, Severus tried to occupy himself by reading the latest copy of Witch Weekly, but even that ghastly magazine couldn't hold his interest. Narcissa lay beside him, the even rise and fall of her chest indicating that she was finally asleep. When he had returned to her side an hour after leaving, she had been beside herself with guilt for divulging his whereabouts to her cousin. It had taken almost an hour of gentle reassurances to convince her he was not irate and another twenty minutes to persuade her to sleep by his side rather than in the chair. Pretense only went so far.
As the clock in the hallway struck three, he regretted allowing Black to convince him to return to Grimmauld Place rather than stay at the campsite. He hated being in the dark. Surely something had happened by now. Sirius had promised to Apparate directly to the bedroom as soon as he had packed up both tents. If something had happened to the mutt, he was going to kill him.
Another twenty-five minutes crawled by before Black appeared at the foot of the bed with a loud pop. The smell of smoke clung to his clothes, and his steely gray eyes were narrowed in anger.
"Fucking Death Eaters."
At this, Narcissa woke with a start, clearly terrified. Sirius quickly apologized, although he still had the look of an attack dog straining at his chain.
"Sorry, Cissy. Long night. And, tomorrow's going to be an even longer day, I'm afraid."
"What happened?" Snape demanded.
"No one was killed, though I expect more than a few pissed their pants. It's amazing the panic a few men in masks can generate in a crowd. Roberts is alright, although the Obliviators made him forget the past two weeks. I feel sorry for his poor wife, but better him than her. A couple of people were trampled in the chaos, but their injuries were relatively minor. It's the Dark Mark that's causing all the trouble."
"Dark Mark? I thought you said no one was killed?"
"I did. But someone went and conjured it anyway. Funnily enough, it made the Death Eaters scatter like ashwinders in a snowstorm. Actually, I thought you had snuck back and conjured it until the Aurors found the wand used to cast it."
"The wand, but not the wizard?"
Why couldn't Black get to the point? By his loaded pause, he was obviously trying to make one. The wiry man crossed his arms, plainly uncomfortable with the news he was about to impart.
"Thankfully, the wizard in question has an airtight alibi." Then, dropping his voice, he confessed, "Severus, it was Draco's. I saw it myself."
"No."
Narcissa shuddered under the weight of his revelation. Taking her in his arms, Severus glared at Black. The mutt needed to learn the concept of tact.
Contrite, Sirius sat tiredly on the edge of the bed as he comfortingly patted Narcissa's back.
"It's alright, Cissy. As I said, he has an airtight alibi. Even Crouch had to admit that. They're sending Shacklebolt here in the morning to ask a few questions. We'll cooperate fully and that will be the end of it. Draco should have his wand back by the start of term."
"Promise?"
"I promise, Cissy. Kingsley is going to ask all of us to try to remember the last time Draco used his wand and where it might have been lost. That's all."
Belatedly, Severus realized what the Auror's visit would entail. "He expects me to be ill, doesn't he?"
For the first time, Sirius grinned. "Oh, yes. Quite ill, in fact."
Standing, he kissed Narcissa on the cheek, an intolerable smirk lingering on his face. "I'd better go. Wouldn't want to catch your flu, Snape. Seems to be a particularly nasty strain. Shame your Slytherin cunning couldn't have come up with something more pleasant."
As he left, Severus hurled the magazine at the insufferable mutt, but it went wide and harmlessly hit the wall instead. Staring at the ceiling, he sulked; he did not relish the thought of feeling so miserable for an entire day, even if it was for a good cause.
All thoughts flew out of his head as Narcissa planted kisses down his chest. Looking down, he marveled at her transformation. No longer fear-laden, her sapphire eyes smoldered with desire. As she met his gaze, a sly grin stole over her face.
"There is one advantage to being ill."
Raising an eyebrow, he played along. "And, what, precisely, is that?"
"You have me as your nurse."
Really, he should have thought of that sooner. He would have taken ill ages ago.
