Chapter Eighteen: Doesn't This Thing Come With Instructions?

Summary: Eighteenth chapter. Thirty-one to go. That about sums it up.

Sirius woke up to a soft rapping outside his door. Rolling over onto his back he grumbled for the knocker to come in.

The knock sounded again.

"Come in." Sirius stated a bit louder this time.

The soft rapping sounded for a third time.

Grumbling to himself, Sirius got out of bed and stumbled to the door. Opening it, he was met by an empty hallway.

Or nearly empty. Several feet down the hall, Harry stood at Arabella's door, softly tapping on it.

Sirius padded down the hallway.

"Harry?"

Harry turned to his godfather, leaning against the wall.

Even in the dimly lit hallway Sirius could see something was wrong. Harry was shaking slightly, his face was covered in a light sweat, and he didn't seem to be focusing on anything in particular. Sirius crouched down in front of him. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Don't feel well." Harry muttered. Turning back to the door to Arabella's room, Harry tapped lightly on it again.

Sirius pulled him back. "Harry, you'll never wake the dead that way. And trust me, that's what you're up against here." Sirius raised his hand and pounded forcefully on the door, causing Harry to jump slightly. "'Bella!" He bellowed at the door. "Wake up!"

A loud thump could be heard from behind the door.

Sirius pulled Harry back, tucking him behind him. "Ohh, that didn't sound good."

A great deal of stumbling about could be heard from the room within. When the door was suddenly pulled open, a blurred eyed, squinting Arabella glared out into the hallway, pulling a light blue robe tightly about her and tying it off with a sash. "What in the name of...!" But she stopped suddenly as she focused on Sirius, who smiled pleasantly at her.

She gave him a deep frown. "Oh, it's you. 'No'."

And with that she slammed the door shut in his face before Sirius could say a word.

"'Bella!" Sirius called again, this time positioning his godson in front of him where he was sure to be seen. "Harry's sick."

The door almost immediately flew open again.

"Harry!?"

Arabella quickly crouched in front of Harry, . "Ohh, Honey," she cooed softly, feeling his forehead, "are you all right? What's wrong?"

"Don't feel well." Harry mumbled again.

Arabella quickly stood back up, wrapping an arm over his shoulders as she directed him back down the hallway, leaving Sirius standing there, feeling quite invisible.

"You definitely have a fever. Come on. Let's put you back to bed and see what we can do."

Arabella led Harry to his room without so much as a backward glance. Sirius shrugged and followed her.

By the time he arrived, Arabella already had Harry back in bed.

"Stay with him while I get a thermometer, Sirius." Arabella said as she rushed past him out the door.

"So," Sirius stated with a smile as he sat on the edge of Harry's bed, "this is all it takes to get special attention out of your godmother?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not a lot of fun." He moaned unhappily.

"Neither is figuring out ways to get special attention out of your godmother."

Harry sat up in his bed and leaned over. "I don't feel so good." He said dismally.

Sirius jumped up suddenly from the bed. "What does that mean? 'Don't feel good'."

"It means he doesn't feel good, Sirius." Arabella replied, rushing past him as she came back into the room, vigorously shaking a thermometer in her hand. "All right, Honey." she stated, sitting next to Harry on the bed. "Open."

Harry sat for the next several minutes with the thermometer sticking out of his mouth while his godparents stood watching him. Something that made Harry for some reason feel very self-conscious. As soon as Arabella took it out he fell back on the bed, moaning softly as he pulled the covers up around him.

"Merlin's beard! A hundred and three!" Arabella exclaimed. "Sirius, we need to call a doctor."

"A doctor? 'Bella, he has a fever. He just needs a little potion."

"Sirius, it's a hundred and three!"

Sirius pulled back, wincing. "Heard you the first time, 'Bella."

"Just tell me who you call."

"Who I call? 'Bella, I haven't seen a doctor since I was knee-high to anything."

"Your family doctor, Sirius! Every one has a doctor."

"I told you, Arabella, I don't know who to call. My mum always took care of things like this. If you'd like, I'll call her."

Arabella waved the half-serious suggestion off. "No, she never liked me. All right," She said after a moments thought, handing the thermometer to Sirius. "I'll take care of getting the doctor. I know the perfect person."

Sirius took the thermometer as though Arabella were handing him a bomb to disarm.

"What?" He asked, staring at it as he held it at arms length.

"It's a thermometer, Sirius. Take his temperature again in a few minutes. See if it's come down any."

Suddenly Harry moaned again from under the covers and Sirius jumped back slightly, a mild look of panic on his face.

"Oh, honestly," Arabella stated in exasperation as she shoved Sirius out of the way and quickly sat down on the edge of the bed. Pulling back the covers she laid a hand over Harry's forehead. "How do you feel, Dear?" She asked comfortingly. "Can I get you anything?"

"How about a bag?" Sirius offered as he peered over her shoulder. "He really doesn't look very good."

"Of course he doesn't look good." Arabella stated. "He's sick. Heavens! Haven't you ever taken care of a sick child before?"

"Oh sure," Sirius replied, his tone heavy with sarcasm, "I've had lots of opportunities for that in my life."

"What about when he was a baby? Didn't he ever get sick then?"

"He had a mother and a father for things like that, Arabella."

"Well, look," Arabella stated as she got up, "it's really very simple. Just do like I said and I'll go fetch a doctor."

"Fetch?" Sirius asked in a near panicked voice. "You're leaving?"

"Two minutes, Sirius. I'll go by fire." She added, heading for the bedroom door. "Look," she offered as she turned back to him, "just take his temperature in a few minutes like I said. Do you think you can do that?"

Sirius looked skeptically at the thermometer in his hand, then at Harry, then turned back to the thermometer before turning a worried stare to Arabella.

"Doesn't this thing come with instructions?" He inquired hopefully.

Arabella sighed quietly. "The thermometer or the child, Sirius?"

"Either."

"Just stick the silver end in his mouth for three minutes. I'll be back in four."

"You said two!" Sirius' stated, his apprehension rising a few more levels at the sudden change in plans.

Arabella shook her head as she headed for the door, mumbling something about helpless men.

Sirius anxiously watched her vanish from the doorway. Slowly he turned to Harry, whose wide green eyes stared back at him from just above the edge of the covers.

"All right now." He said in the voice of someone walking into a tense hostage stand-off, holding up the thermometer in one hand. "Let's just take it nice and slow and nobody has to get hurt."

Harry scooted a little further under the covers.

Thirty minutes later a spark erupted into a bright flash of emerald green flames in Harry's room. Arabella quickly stumbled out of them.

"Oh, I am sorry, Sirius." She began. "First there was a destination mix-up, and then..." But she stopped abruptly as she looked about the empty room. "Sirius? Harry?"

"Much too soon for Protective Services to have been called." A voice stated as a second figure emerged from the flames.

"He's a grown man taking care of a small child." Arabella chided the man behind her.

Remus Lupin dusted a bit of soot off his robes. "He's a hopeless idiot taking care of a sick teenager." He corrected mildly. "No telling what state we'll find them in...if we find them at all."

A slightly muffled laugh came from beyond the door. Arabella gave Lupin a curious stare, then followed the sound, which, coming at varied intervals, led them downstairs. In the living room, they found Sirius and Harry sitting on a couch, watching TV. Harry sat comfortably leaned up against his godfather with a glass of clear, bubbling liquid in his hands.

"Sirius!" Arabella stated, causing both Sirius and Harry to jump slightly. "Harry's sick! What do you think you're doing?"

"Well," Sirius explained, "quite frankly, 'Bella, your idea didn't seem to do much for the situation. That thermometer thing. So I went back to the old standby."

"The old standby?"

"What my mum used to do for me. Gave me a glass of seltzer and let me sit up watching TV all day."

"And this 'cured what ailed you'?"

"Usually? No. But I sure wasn't as miserable about it."

Arabella sighed in exasperation as she sat down next to Harry. "How do you feel?" She asked, again feeling his forehead.

Harry shifted his position a little against Sirius. "Still feel sick."

"Well, I brought the best doctor I know to look at you."

Sirius glanced back at Lupin. "Well," he stated. "I see you've brought Remus. Where's the doctor?"

"Very nice." Lupin replied sarcastically. Arabella got up so that Lupin could sit down next to Harry. Lupin gave him a pleasant smile. "So, Harry, what seems to be the problem?"

"Feel sick." Harry repeated.

"So I've heard. Could you pin point things for me a little better than that?"

"My stomach hurts."

"Any nausea?"

Harry nodded.

"Fever?"

Harry, Arabella, and Sirius nodded.

Remus picked up a small bag he had brought with him and pulled a few items out of it. A few minutes and several spells later, he sighed and sat back. "Looks like it may be a mild case of food poisoning...."

"Well, you've finally done it, woman!" Sirius quickly snapped half-seriously at Arabella. "You've poisoned someone with that muggle cooking!"

Arabella gave him a small, triumphant smile. "Sirius," she replied in a sweet, tempered voice, "who cooked last night?"

Sirius thought for a moment. As memory began to serve him better, he nervously turned back to Lupin. "Has to be something else." He stated, though the comment came out sounding much more like a plea for agreement.

Lupin shrugged. "Food poisoning is just one possibility. Could just be a nasty virus he picked up somewhere."

Sirius looked relieved at the possibility of other options. "Probably a virus." He agreed quickly.

Lupin reached into his bag. "Little dose of potion should fix him right up."

Sirius suddenly wrapped his arms tightly about Harry and pulled him back from Lupin. "And exactly what do you know about medicinal potions, Remus?" He asked skeptically.

Lupin gave Sirius an annoyed stare. "More than you, is my bet."

"And I'm not having some ex-Auror treat my godson just because he suddenly thinks he's a doctor."

"You think being a werewolf doesn't give you some experience in potion mixtures?" Lupin replied heatedly. "Honestly! I'm not the one who poisoned the boy, Sirius."

"You said it was a virus, Remus." Sirius replied smugly.

"It's starting to look like food poisoning again." Lupin sneered at him.

"Oh, honestly!" Arabella cried in exasperation as she reached down and pulled Harry out of Sirius' protective grip. "Come on, Harry. I'll make you some tea and then it's back to bed. Remus," she added, leading Harry off with her arm draped over his shoulders, "the kitchen is this way if you need to whip up any potions."

Fifteen minutes later Harry was comfortably settled back in his bed with a steaming cup of potion in his hands.

"One drink of that and you'll feel better in no time, Harry." Lupin promised with a pleased smile.

Harry stared down into the cup, then tentatively sniffed it. A strong vapor of alcohol assaulted his senses and did little to help settle the queasiness in his stomach. Sighing to himself, and figuring Lupin must know what he was doing, Harry downed the potion in one mouthful. He quickly screwed his face up as he handed the cup back to Lupin.

"Ohhh.....what was that?" He cried.

"Just something to settle your stomach."

"It tasted horrible."

"Really?" Lupin asked, studying the empty cup. "The whiskey usually masks the taste."

Arabella quickly came over and smoothed down his sheets as Harry laid back in the bed. "Just try and get some sleep, Harry." She suggested quietly. "I'll come up a bit later and check on you, all right?"

Harry nodded slightly as he watched Arabella shooing Lupin and Sirius out of the room. Minutes after the door closed he was sound asleep.

Harry slept most of the day away. Or what he could of it. Every so often Arabella was in his room checking on him. Not that he minded the extra attention. In fact, he positively reveled in it. Each visit brought with it a warm cup of tea and a few extra, private moments that he got to spend with his godmother while she simply lavished attention on him. Previously, most of the time Harry spent with Arabella was also spent with Sirius. He hardly ever found himself alone with just her. But each time she came up she would patiently sit on the edge of his bed while he drank his tea, (which Lupin had suggested he be given as much of as he would take), and tell him short little episodes of her time with his father, his mother, and Sirius while they were all at Hogwarts until he finished the cup. Arabella never seemed to notice that each consecutive cup of tea was taking Harry longer and longer to finish.

Harry spent two days in bed, basking in all the extra attention. By the second day Arabella had agreed that there wasn't much harm Sirius could do by spending time keeping his godson company. A task that quickly became split between both Sirius and Remus, who would sit perched on the edges of Harry's bed while the three of them spent the day playing various card games. But in the late afternoon Arabella came upstairs and ushered them both out, insisting that Harry had to get some sleep.

By the third day, Harry managed to get out of his bed and wander as far as the livingroom, where he spent the day on the sofa, comfortably situated in a makeshift bed Arabella arranged for him while he watched TV.

By the fourth day Harry seemed completely recovered from his illness. The smell of bacon and eggs drew him downstairs early where Arabella was cooking breakfast for Remus and Sirius. Her expression was pure delight when Harry expressed a keen interest in joining them. He couldn't remember ever feeling so hungry in his life as Arabella slid a pair of eggs onto his plate with a few slices of bacon. And although he felt as though he could easily have eaten twice what Arabella gave him, Professor Lupin sternly advised him against too much to soon. Advice that proved it should be heeded as Harry felt himself getting queasy again half way through his breakfast. But by lunch he was hungry again and he managed a complete sandwich without any ill effects. By dinner, Lupin declared he had the normal appetite back of any fourteen year old teenage boy, which basically consisted of eating anything that vaguely resembled food and didn't move faster than he did.

The next day, declaring Harry cured, Lupin was ready to pack up and head back to the castle. But several minutes spent with a very anxious Sirius, making declarations of 'what if it comes back!', swayed him into agreeing to stay a few more days. And a few days away from the castle, with all of the worry and tension that seemed to surround it these days, would be a welcome relief.