"Say that again," Harry instructed and trailed the back of his fingers up Snape's arm. It made him shiver.
"Say what again?" He had been talking about an article in that morning's Daily Prophet—a witch, her muggle husband, and their three children had been brutally murdered. It was assumed to be the work of the five remaining Death Eaters—a neighbor had actually claimed to have spotted Bella Lestrange fleeing the scene.
"I don't know, whatever you just said."
" 'How frightening that the mind clings to reality by such a tenuous thread. How daunting it must be to stand upon the precipice, look insanity in the eye, and not shy away. How quickly the mind can abandon the waking world and turn to dreams, to nightmares'," he repeated.
"Mmm, keep going," Harry said in a low voice, his hands traveling everywhere.
"Whatever for?" Snape asked.
"You voice is making me crazy." His fingers strayed into Snape's hairline.
Snape raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"
"So smooth and cool and…mmm, rich. Your voice does crazy things to me. Did I tell you about that time you made me come just from the sound of your voice—in the middle of Potions?" Harry murmured against his ear.
"You cannot be serious."
"Perfectly," he answered and sucked Snape's earlobe into his mouth.
That was more than even Snape could resist, regardless of the fact that they had been on their way out the door to have lunch in the Great Hall, and he led them from the sitting room to the bedroom. They peeled each other's clothing away and Harry pushed Snape back onto the bed. He swept his eyes down Snape's naked body appraisingly, eyes hooded with lust.
"Merlin, Severus, you're beautiful."
For a blissful moment, Snape felt a warm, tight sensation in his chest, but it was quickly succeeded by a wave of nausea. He groaned and turned his head away.
"Oh no," Harry said, "do you feel sick again?"
Snape did not answer—he did not particularly want to open his mouth—and Harry pulled away. He fought it, but the nausea overwhelmed him and he bolted for the bathroom.
This was the third time he had vomited since the end of term as many days ago, but that was not the worst of it. For the past week, his mind had grown inexplicably foggy at times and he had been experiencing blackouts and dizzy spells. They were getting steadily worse. And, while he had never really recovered from the fatigue that plagued him after the events on Halloween, he was sure it was getting worse as well. He had been knocking back doses of Invigoration Draught, Clear-Headed, and an anti-nausea potion like they were pumpkin juice.
Harry handed him a glass of water to rinse his mouth out.
"You should really go see Madam Pomfrey."
"I am sure it is only the after-effects of that infernal curse. It will go away soon."
"But it isn't going away! It's only getting worse," Harry insisted.
Snape stood up and started to say, "It is nothing to worry—" but as soon as he was upright, his head began to spin and he fell to the floor in an unconscious heap.
He came to as he was being settled into a bed in the infirmary. It was not a place he especially wanted to be.
"Really, Poppy, this is quite unnecessary."
"I do not care to hear your opinion, Severus, now just lie still. I need a blood sample." She pointed her wand at the inside of his elbow and a small glass vial in her hand slowly filled with his blood.
"There, you have your blood. May I go now?"
"You most certainly may not! Do not make me restrain you," she threatened, and carried the vial off somewhere to run some tests on it.
He redirected his irritation toward Harry, who was seated in a chair next to his bed, and glared.
"Oh come on!" Harry exclaimed, "You collapsed, Severus. What was I supposed to do?"
Snape wanted to yell and scream and threaten, but he had to admit that his condition was steadily deteriorating. Before he could think about it any more, the fatigue claimed him and he fell asleep.
A few hours later, he awoke to the hushed voices of Albus and Poppy.
"But how could it have gotten into his system?" Poppy asked.
"I do not know, I am afraid," the headmaster answered, "But I shall do my utmost to discover whoever is responsible for this."
Harry spoke up. "He's awake, Professor."
"Ah, Severus, dear boy. How are you feeling?" he asked.
How was he feeling? His head ached and his limbs felt heavy and his mouth seemed to be filled with cotton and he was still nauseous. "I am perfectly fine."
"Nonsense," Poppy said, and held out two vials potion. "Take these. Come now, drink up!"
He recognized the Sleeping Draught, but he eyed the other suspiciously.
"The antidote," Albus explained, "to the poison that Poppy has found in your blood. I must insist that you take it immediately, if you would be so kind." His eyes were decidedly less twinkley than usual.
Harry smiled at him and squeezed his hand, and he obediently downed the two vials. He never had been able to deny Albus anything.
When he woke, he found Albus, Poppy, and Harry all sitting around his bed, watching him expectantly. He was not in any pain, but he was certainly groggy, and it took him a couple of minutes to recall exactly what was going on.
"Poisoned?" he asked finally.
They nodded. Snape was flabbergasted. He was a Potions Master, for the love of Merlin! How was it possible that being poisoned had escaped his notice?
He could feel Harry's concern, and his anger too. Who was he angry with?
"How?"
They looked around at one another, then the headmaster spoke. "Yesterday afternoon, a student unexpectedly knocked on my door. He was rather upset, and I think you can understand why—he suspected he had been Obliviated."
He was not in the mood for a lengthy tale. Why could the man never just answer a question? "Albus, just tell me what happened. Who was the student?"
"Draco Malfoy. I was able to recover his memories, and he was quite distraught when he learned what he had done. It seems his father paid a visit to the manor shortly after Halloween and cast the Imperius Curse on his son. While everyone else was off enjoying themselves in Hogsmeade two weeks ago, he snuck into your rooms and poisoned your sugar bowl. Then he stopped by again just after term and erased Draco's memory of it."
Poisoned sugar! No wonder that confounded, ridiculously named tea tasted so strange—the tea that they had shared, he realized in horror.
"Harry!"
"It's okay," Harry said, "I'm fine. I only take milk in my tea, remember? Oh, I'm so sorry, Severus. This is all my fault. I asked you to—"
"No, Harry," Snape interrupted, "Do not dare blame yourself. This is the work of that treacherous, loathsome, arrogant little ice prince and no one else." He had to fight hard to reign in his anger. Would the man never stop tormenting him? If Albus had his way, he would never even be able to exact revenge.
Harry nodded sheepishly and Snape turned back to Albus. "The antidote?"
"Has completely neutralized the poison."
"And Malfoy?"
"Draco was able to inform me that all five unaccounted for Death Eaters were staying at the Lestrange Estate. After a rather long and arduous search, we were able to discover its location. They gave the aurors quite a fight, but they have all been taken into custody. And no," he added quickly, "you may not see him. Nor you, Harry—I will not have that discussion with you yet again."
Harry sighed, defeated before he could even renew his argument.
All five in custody—thank Merlin for that, at least. But a 'long and arduous search'? "How long was I asleep?" Snape asked.
"Two days," Poppy answered. "It took some time for the antidote to do its work. But now all is well and you may return to your rooms as soon as you feel up to it."
She must have felt very sorry for him at some point—Snape could not recall her ever releasing him without a shouting match, no matter how minor his injuries. He thought he had better take advantage of it before she changed her mind.