Chapter Ten

"Professor Snape? Professor, wake up!"

Snape was upset at having been woken from his nap and taken from his warm bed. He was lying, he realized, on a very large desk, right next to a swimming pool sized dish of enormous lemon drops. Oh, no. Dumbledore.

"Glad you could finally join us, Severus," Dumbledore smiled. "I see you have a bit of a cold."

Snape rolled his aching eyes and choked back a violent sneeze.

"Oh, well done. I suppose now you'll run off an make yourself a detective."

"He gets grumpier when he's sick," the Headmaster explained to Harry. "Best do everything he wants for the next few days."

"That's it? Can't you do something to help him?"

"I'm afraid not, Harry. It's a cold. There are no potions that can cure the common cold – there are millions of different forms of it, you know. All you can do is keep him warm and comfortable until it runs its course. Make sure he gets plenty to drink."

"Can't – aren't there potions that can help with the symptoms, though?"

"Yes, Harry. But I'm sorry to say that the dosage would be too large for him, and it could be very dangerous to simply guess the dosage level."

"Headmaster," Severus croaked (his throat really was getting very sore), "would you happen to know what became of my wand?"

"Yes, Severus. I have it here, as a matter of fact."

"Why can't you just shrink his wand down for him?" Harry asked.

"It will ruin it. The magical core cannot be safely shrunk. It will either resist shrinking completely, or it will self destruct. Wands are very delicate objects, Harry."

"Well, I can't take care of him and go to class at the same time!" Harry grumbled, exasperated.

"How many classes have you missed this year?"

"None – well, except today. I walked out of Vermitt's class to come and see you."

"Then I'm sure your professors won't mind if you take a day off to settle in our little professor."

Dumbledore obviously thought his reference to Severus' current size was funny, as he ended with a chuckle.

"What about Ron and Hermione? What will I tell them?"

"Tell them anything you like, Harry, but keep Severus a secret. He's extremely vulnerable."

"Just – just a couple more questions, Professor. What happens if he gets summoned or something? I mean, he obviously can't go like this – they'll step on him or something."

"Yes, I've been thinking about that. If he is summoned, you will bring him here immediately. There isn't much I can do for him, but perhaps we can avoid that situation altogether."

"Who's teaching my classes?" Severus asked quietly. Dumbledore didn't hear it, but Harry did.

"Who's teaching potions?"

"A wonderful young lady – just moved here with her family from America. She's not as intimidating a professor as Severus, but she knows the material well enough. I've told the school that you were knocked unconscious and are now in a magical coma," The headmaster addressed the sick little professor. "Hopefully that story will reach Voldemort and he won't call you at all."

The meeting with the Headmaster had proved fruitless. Harry was no where nearer to getting everything he needed to take care of Snape, and now the tiny man had to suffer through a cold that he couldn't take any potions to alleviate. And it was all Harry's fault. He was so caught up worrying about what to do with Snape that he didn't see Alana Masterson until he'd knocked her down and landed fully on top of her.

"Sorry!" He cried. Harry was thinking only of Snape, trapped in his trouser pocket. He sprang up, hoping he hadn't squashed him.

"That's quite all right, Mr.?"

"Potter. Harry Potter."

"Ah. The Boy-Who-Lived. I'm Alana Masterson. The substitute Potions professor."

She was a heavy woman with short brown hair tucked behind her ears and dancing brown eyes. Though she was probably what one would call obese, she was somewhat lovely.

"I – uh – didn't see you there."

"I noticed, Mr. Potter. Shouldn't you be up in your dormitory?"

"Uh – yeah. I had a meeting with Dumbledore."

"Well, go on and I won't give you detention this time. Should we meet again after curfew, please take note that you will be serving detention."

"Right. Thanks – er – Professor."

And Harry took off up to Gryffindor tower, eager to see if Snape was okay.

"When did I start caring about him?" Harry asked himself quietly as the Fat Lady opened the portrait hole.

Finally! I put off those research papers until the very last minute (like I always do). Unfortunately they were more work than I anticipated. For the past two weeks I've done nothing but work on "Women Still Considered Unequal". It's so nice to come back to Sev and Harry! - SRFORESTS