SS19's Advent Calendar
Ahhah. Now I am back on track! Hurrah! ~ SS19
11th December - Scarves
Albus had a sore throat. It was dry and uncomfortable, and meant he constantly seemed to be clearing it. He leaned over and coughed into his hand, the movement hurting his chest and dissolving into wheezing. He managed to swallow and straightened his back, his eyes watering. He sniffed and rubbed one hand uncomfortably. He felt so old and achey and his temperature was fluctuating - one moment he was too hot and the next he was too cold - he was finding it difficult to focus on the parchment before him and the words jumped around, wiggling, not behaving. He moaned and his head throbbed. He wanted to raise a hand to massage his temples but it was too much effort. Instead he just slumped further into his chair and closed his eyes.
"Headmaster? Can I come in?" The voice sounded muffled and he didn't want to respond to it, so he didn't. He just sat in his chair, wondering if it was possible to summon a blanket to his hand - or at least a tissue - he could hear the door opening and he blearily raised his eyes, realising the one person that he really did not want to see in this state was stood opposite him, hands on his hips. "Sev-Severus." He slurred, voice thick. Severus, wearing his travelling cloak and still damp from the winter snow, took Albus in for a moment and then stepped forward, "Did you catch the winter flu, Headmaster?" He asked, and his voice was almost verging on sympathetic.
Albus wanted to glare at him, but instead simply shook his head, "I feel terrible."
"Well, you will if you sit up and continue to try to work." Severus chastised. He came closer. "Why don't you go to bed? The Wizarding World can surely survive your absence for one night? You need to sleep and recover some energy, that is the best way to beat these things. Have you eaten or drunk anything?" The idea of Severus being almost like Poppy was amusing to Albus and if he could have laughed, he would have done. Instead, the idea of a warm bed and soup cheered him. Severus scraped Albus' chair back and touched the back of his hand to Albus' burning forehead. "Yes, you have tried to fight this for too long, Headmaster. Up and to bed, now."
Albus wanted to get up, he really did, but he was comfortable here. Severus glared at him, "Do not make me drag you."
Albus coughed again and wished he had a tiss - Severus was pushing a handkerchief into his hand embroidered with his initials. "There. Do stop dribbling, it's rather unattractive and unbecoming." He lifted Albus' arm up and around his shoulders and pulled him up from the chair. "We'll put you to bed, Albus. You work far too hard."
The spiral staircase up to Albus' bedroom had never been harder, even when Severus had been mortally wounded, he thought as he finally managed to push the older man into his bedroom and ease him onto the bed. He pulled back the covers, slightly alarmed at the docility of the Headmaster. The other seemed exhausted. Severus shook his head, bemused, helping Albus to rest his thudding head against the pillows and his eyes fluttered closed. Severus half smiled as he tucked the blankets back around Albus and waited until the other's breathing had started to deepen. As almost an afterthought, he pulled the green and silver scarf from around his neck and tucked it around Albus' in response. "There. That is much better." He wandered across to the bathroom and poured a glass of water, leaving it by Albus' bedside before pausing to watch over him. "Sleep well."
Albus woke feeling only marginally better but the sleep had certainly helped. He turned his head to one side and saw the glass of water and steaming soup beside him, inhaling the gentle aroma of his favourite flavour. Two potions phials were present too, labelled in Severus' scrawl - one for his headache and the other for his throat. A cloak was draped over the chair beside the bed. He brought one hand up, hoping to massage his throat but instead his fingers came into contact with soft, woollen material. He looked down at himself and saw the green and silver and realised that his now only partially blocked nostrils were picking another scent - musk - this was Severus' scarf. He remembered the Potions' Master from last night, helping Albus to bed - he clenched the scarf between his fingers and closed his eyes with a warm smile. "You are never going to let me forget this, are you?"
Severus peered around the corner of the doorframe to the bathroom, mid-shaving, blade in hand. "No. Never."
Albus smiled fully, glanced toward Severus just once and saw the raise of the eyebrows, turned his face away and promptly fell asleep once more.
