Author's Note: Hey everyone! I just got back from my college orientation. It was so great even though I ended up with some very random classes. At least I got Greek Mythology, which I'm really excited about. Anyways, this is a crazily long chapter, and since I want to get it up, and am very tired and late with this update, I'm going to skip review responses for this one, sorry!! I'm glad a lot of you seem to be liking the yahoo group, but please don't stop reviewing here at ! I thrive off your reviews and would hate to see them drop off! So, without further ado, here's the chapter!
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Harry got home to find Ron lounging on his bed reading part of Harry's newest Muggle book Kota had ordered him to read.
"Why in the name of Merlin are you spending your summer reading this stuff, Harry?" Ron asked, setting down the book and making a face.
"Kota's trying to educate me in the world of Muggle literature," Harry said with a shrug. "So, what are you doing here?"
"Well, I've been waiting for you to come home for ages. I figured you were over at Malfoy's."
"Actually, I was at 'Mione's. Ginny came too a little while ago and I think she's staying over there for a little longer in case you're looking for her," Harry said casually.
"Harry," Ron said, biting his lip nervously, "I think we need to talk."
Harry looked at him in concern. "Is everything okay?" he asked worriedly.
Ron sighed and walked over to shut the door, standing between it and Harry to make sure he didn't run out. "No, it's not, Harry. I'm worried about you. Ever since the thing with your uncle at the Stensons, you've been acting a lot different. Well, actually, I guess you've been acting a lot the same, but you're still different, like when you laugh and stuff, I can tell you're faking it a lot of the time. And you still flinch whenever anyone touches you or makes sudden movements around you."
"I do not!" Harry said indignantly.
"Yes you do! And you seem so afraid to upset anyone, especially Sirius. Whenever you two disagree on something, you back down immediately, like you don't want to make him mad or something. Sometimes I swear you even look scared around him!" He paused thoughtfully. "And I think you've even been doing it to me, like you don't even want to disagree with me about anything."
"I don't know what you're talking about. Do you want me to fight with you over stupid things?" he asked, a tinge of fright in his voice.
"No, but we used to argue over the stupid stuff, not fight, just disagree. Like Quidditch teams and whether spinach-flavored Bertie Botts beans counted as a health food. It was what made things interesting sometimes. It made us different, but now you don't disagree with anything anymore. It's like you aren't you. I want to know if that bastard said something to you to make you act like this," he said angrily.
You're pathetic. You're worthless. You only ruin lives.
"No," he snapped defensively. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Ron's eyes looked at him searchingly. "You're lying. He did say something. Tell me what it was so I can help you."
You're just a FREAK!
"He didn't say anything," Harry said angrily.
"You don't still think it was an accident, do you?" Ron asked sharply.
Harry glared at him. "No, I realize perfectly well that he hates my bloody guts, thank you."
"Harry, what did he say?"
"It's none of your business," Harry said heatedly. "I'm done with this stupid conversation. Let me out."
Ron only blocked the door further.
"Stop acting like a snot, Harry," he said warningly.
Harry blinked momentarily. "Oh, sorry," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean…"
"See? This is what I mean! If I had said that to you a few months ago, you would have yelled back at me! Like in a proper row! Your uncle said something to you, and it probably wasn't true, so tell me what it is and I'll tell you whether you should pay attention to it or not!" Ron yelled.
How could anybody love a piece of trash like you?
"Just drop it, Ron," Harry growled.
"No, Harry. You need to talk about it and why not with me? I may not know how you're feeling, but at least I can listen and I can be there for you. Nobody wants to push you to talk about it but I think they're wrong. I know you and I can tell what this is doing to you, so you have to talk about it, no matter how hard it is."
"It was nothing, Ron! Nothing!" Harry yelled. "He was drunk and mad, that's all!"
"It was nothing? Harry, are you mad? He would have killed you if we hadn't gotten into that kitchen. He almost did kill you! He tied your wrists with wire and beat you with a bloody chair leg!" Ron yelled furiously.
Harry clamped his hands over his ears and shut his eyes. "Shut up, shut up, shut up," he muttered, but Ron ignored his pleas.
"Merlin knows what else he did since you won't tell anyone! What did he say? That you deserved it? That he hated you? That you were a…" he tried to remember the word that Harry always said the Dursleys thought he was, " a freak?"
"SHUT UP!" Harry yelled.
"Harry, what the hell did he say?!" Ron screamed. "Was I right? Because if that's what he said to you, he's wrong!"
"You don't know anything!" Harry yelled.
"No shit, because you won't tell me anything!! And why the hell not? What are you afraid of? Why won't you tell me? Are you afraid I'll laugh or something? Are you afraid that I'll think less of you for some reason?"
And when they find out how you really are, and find out what a burden you are, they're going to hate you just as much as I do!
"I don't want to say it and have you know that it's true, that he's right! I don't want you to know what he knows and realize you don't want a pathetic, worthless freak as your friend anymo—" he screamed before clapping a hand over his mouth with a horrified expression. "For Christ's sake, Ron, just leave me alone and let me out of here!" he yelled.
"No!" Ron yelled back. "Not until you tell me what's wrong! Keep going, tell me what he said, Harry. I know you and I already know that whatever he said is probably rubbish, so just tell me. We've got 'pathetic' and 'freak,' what else?"
"Stop it, Ron!" Harry begged, backing up into his dresser.
"What's keeping you up at night, Harry?" Ron pressed. "Is it just nightmares about what happened or about other things as well? Or is it because you can't decide whether what your uncle said was true or not?"
"Ron, please stop it," Harry pleaded desperately. "Please."
"Just tell me what he said, Harry. He took you in the kitchen and locked the door and then what did he do? What did he say?" Ron prodded, pushing away his guilt at making Harry relive this.
Harry shut his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears, sliding down the dresser until he was sitting on the floor. Ron knelt in front of him and grabbed his wrists, pulling Harry's hands from his ears. Harry opened his eyes and looked at him pleadingly, shaking his head.
Ron took a moment to really get a close look at his friend.
Harry was going downhill, that wasn't hard to see. He looked worse than he had when he had spent the night at the Burrow when Ron had found him reading in the bathroom in the middle of the night. The circles under his eyes had become more obvious and Ron suspected he might have lost some weight as well. Harry's eyebrows were almost constantly knitted and he was always tense. Ron had also noticed that Harry's hands had become constantly shaky, not just at night when he was trying to fight sleep. Whether it was from exhaustion, nervousness, or something else, Ron didn't know.
What had happened to Harry while they all were supposed to be watching?
"Ron," Harry said in a whisper, looking blankly off into space, "everything was supposed to be perfect, but it's all falling apart. Everything's falling apart and it's all because of me. You'd be better off…you'd be better off not being friends with me."
"Harry," Ron said gently, "that's not going to happen. Just, look at me. Tell me what your uncle said, okay?"
Harry looked down and Ron put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He could feel Harry tense up under the touch and eventually force himself to relax.
"But everything he said was true," Harry said, closing his eyes to try to fight back tears, but two slipped out despite his efforts. He started reached up to wipe them away, but Ron gently grabbed his wrist and pushed it back down.
"Harry, it's okay."
"Nothing's okay," Harry whispered.
There was a long pause.
"Harry, you can tell me," Ron prompted. Harry looked down at the floor to his side.
Harry opened his mouth to say something but his bedroom door burst open, interrupting the conversation. Draco entered, faltering as soon as he saw the two. He immediately stepped back, realizing what was going on.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know Weasley was here," he said with a wide-eyed look as he quickly started to exit the room. "Keep talking. I'll talk to you later…"
"No," Harry said, quickly wiping at his face with his sleeve and jumping to his feet. "Actually, Ron was just leaving. Actually, you both should go; I need to get to dinner. Remus is making spaghetti and I need to get down there."
"Harry…" Ron protested, getting to his feet.
"No, Harry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I…" Draco said frantically.
"You didn't," Harry said quickly. "I just need to do, um, some things before dinner. I'll see you guys later," he said, ushering them toward the door.
"Harry, no," Ron said firmly. "I'm staying. I need to talk to you about this."
"There's nothing to talk about. Now I'll see you guys later," he said resolutely.
"You can't just push me away like this, Harry!" Ron said desperately.
"I'm not, Ron, there's just nothing to say, okay?" Harry insisted, finally getting the two out in the hall. "I just really have to get some things done right now and I'll see you later."
Harry closed his bedroom door, leaving his two friends in the hall.
"Oh good job, Malfoy. Bravo. Really well done there," Ron said bitterly as he headed toward the stairs.
Draco scowled at him. "Hey, how was I supposed to know you were here? I was going to go try to talk to him. It's not like we worked out a schedule or anything."
"Well, you could have asked Sirius or Remus," Ron snapped as the two stomped down the stairs. "I don't think this is going to work. I mean, even if we figure out everything his uncle said that one night, what about all the other stuff he's said to Harry throughout his entire life? I don't think Harry will ever let us know it all. So what the hell are we supposed to do?"
"Anything we can," Draco said before Flooing away.
"I just hope that's enough," Ron muttered before Flooing away himself.
.
"Harry?" Sirius called as he knocked on his godson's bedroom door. Harry was usually the first one up in the house, but it was now approaching ten o'clock and he still hadn't come down. Ron had shown up to ask if he could talk to Harry, since they still hadn't made up since the previous day's fight. Ron had been surprised as well to find that Harry was still in bed. Sirius had told Ron to stay downstairs while he went to see what was going on, now starting to doubt that Harry was just having a lie in.
When there was no answer, Sirius opened the door. Harry was still lying in bed, facing the window. As Sirius got approached, his stomach plummeted as he noticed that Harry was shivering despite the summer heat and had vomit on the side of his pillow.
Sirius ran over and turned Harry onto his back. Harry's face gleamed with sweat and he looked sickly pale. His eyebrows were knitted in pain even while he was sleeping.
"Harry!" Sirius yelled frantically, shaking his godson's shoulders slightly. Harry moaned painfully and blinked open his eyes.
"Sirius? I don't feel so good," he murmured with a grimace.
Sirius cleaned up the sick on Harry's pillow with a wave of his wand and put a hand to the boy's forehead. There was no question that Harry was running a fever, and a pretty high one from the feel of it.
"Harry, I'm going to be right back, okay? Just give me a second, alright?" Sirius asked shakily.
Harry nodded weakly and squeezed his eyes shut.
Sirius ran to the top of the stairs and ran down until he could see Ron who had plopped down onto the couch.
"Ron!" Sirius yelled, causing the redhead to jump and whirl his head around in surprise. "Ron, I need you to get Snape right now."
Ron quickly stood up. "Is something wrong with Harry?" he asked worriedly.
"Yes, he's ill. Now go," he ordered before running back to Harry's room.
Minutes later, Snape walked hurriedly through the door over to Harry's bed, followed closely by Draco and Ron.
"You two," Snape barked at the two boys after checking Harry over, "Floo to St. Mungo's sixth floor…"
"They don't have a sixth floor," Draco protested.
"It's their research floor so it's not listed on the floor guide," Snape explained irritably. "In the fire, just say 'St. Mungo's, sixth floor, nine, five, three, three'. That's last bit's the pass code so don't forget it or you won't be allowed on. Find Hr. Callahan and tell him to get over here."
"Is Harry okay?" Ron asked, trying to crane his neck to see Harry, who the two men were blocking.
"Come on, Weasley, let's get the healer," Draco said before Snape could yell at Ron for dawdling.
Ron turned to the blonde and stiffly nodded. The two raced out of the room.
The two men turned to Harry, who had fallen back to sleep when Sirius had left the room. Sirius gently shook him awake.
"Professor?" Harry asked hoarsely as his tired eyes landed on Snape. His breathing was ragged and each time he drew in air, it seemed to cause him pain.
"What are your symptoms? Where does it hurt?" Snape asked in a business-like tone.
"My stomach," he whimpered. "And my head. And everything else," he added with a weak smile before a grimace crossed his face and he coughed painfully. "Is this just because of my immune system or is it something else?" Harry asked worriedly. That was the question that was worrying them all. They had no idea if this was connected to the random headaches Harry had been getting or not.
"We don't know," Snape said gravely. "Hr. Callahan is on his way, though I doubt he'll be able to tell either."
"Oh good," Harry joked weakly.
Soon, Hr. Callahan arrived and the three adults forced Ron and Draco to wait in the living room.
Hr. Callahan checked him over, but could only conclude that Harry was indeed ill, probably with something that had started out as a small thing that had gotten out of control because of his weak immune system. He assured them that he had no reason to believe it had any connection with Harry's headaches, though after Harry was better, he wanted to bring him in for testing to try to determine if this was true.
The healer reached into his small bag and pulled out a bunch of potions that Harry was sure couldn't have all fit in a normal bag of that size. Harry's suspicion that the bag was magical was confirmed when Hr. Callahan reached into it so that his whole arm was engulfed up to his shoulder, when the bag was about a foot deep at most. Harry felt like he was at a kid's magic show, and got a great kick out of it all.
Harry took all the potions he was forced to, feeling very drowsy at the end.
"Well, we'll try these potions. They're the best I can do, and we'll just have to hope they work. As you can see, Harry, they're going to make you a bit sleepy, but that's good because you need your rest. I'll come back tomorrow, to see how everything's going and to see if we need to administer anymore medicine."
"What potions are they?" Snape asked, as the healer put the beakers and vials back into his bag. Hr. Callahan got that look he always did when Snape challenged his medical expertise, one of forced cheerfulness.
"Just a few standard potions for Harry's symptoms and something for his immune system. Don't worry, Professor, I'm not trying to poison him," he said with a reassuring smile. "Feel better, Harry," he said softly, ruffling the boy's hair.
Harry murmured his goodbyes as he slipped into slumber.
The three men exited the room quietly and went down to the living room where they were met by two impatient teenage boys. Hr. Callahan flooed away.
"Can we finally go see him?" Draco asked exasperatedly.
"Harry's sleeping now," Sirius informed the two.
"Well, can I stay anyways?" Ron asked. "I won't wake him up, I promise. Besides, I've done it before when he had cancer."
"Well, if Weasley's staying, I'm staying," Draco said stubbornly.
"I appreciate that you did that for Harry, Ron, but I think I'd like to take care of him this time around," Sirius said. "I know you two are his friends, but I want to spend some time with him."
The two nodded reluctantly. The three left, with Snape promising to return later to check on Harry.
.
When Harry woke, Sirius got him some water to drink while he went to call Snape through the fire.
When the man returned, Harry was getting out of bed.
"Harry, what are you doing out of bed?" Sirius asked worriedly. "Get your sick bum back in there!"
"Sirius," Harry said with a roll of the eyes, "I'm fine."
"Unless you want me to force you to stay in it for an extra day, whether you're sick or not, you'll get back in it right now," Sirius said sternly.
Harry looked at him in surprise. "Wow, I think you were just channeling Mrs. Weasley," he mused. Sirius smirked proudly.
"Good, maybe you'll actually listen to me then."
Harry weakly got back into bed, though he tried desperately not to show how hard it was. He sat up, leaning against the wall, as Snape briefly checked him over. When he was done, he looked at Harry with a frown.
"Harry, how are you feeling in comparison with this morning?" he asked.
"Better," he answered a little too quickly.
"Now this time let's be honest, shall we? Your health doesn't reflect a positive change since this morning. And don't you dare tell me you're fine. So, how are you feeling?"
Harry looked down. "Umm…not so good then, I guess," he mumbled.
"It doesn't seem the potions Callahan gave you are doing a thing. I always knew that healer was a joke," he sneered.
"And let me guess," Sirius said sarcastically, "if he had let you make the potions, Harry would be healed now, right? Do we have to go through this every time?"
"We wouldn't have to go through it every time if he'd let me make the potions," Snape retorted.
"Hr. Callahan's trying his best," Harry said in defense of the healer. "It's not his fault I happen to be a medical anomaly. Besides, it's either this and being alive, or not having it and being dead."
Sirius flinched.
"He didn't even tell me what he gave you," Snape said in annoyance. "He never does anymore. It's irritating."
"That's because you kept insulting his potions and interfering with what he's trying to do with Harry. He's not too fond of you," Sirius pointed out. Snape glared at him.
"It doesn't matter," Harry said dismissively. "I'll get over whatever it is soon enough."
"I don't know if it's as simple as that, Harry," Snape said. "Your immune system might not be able to fight whatever it is all that well. But now I can't even give you any potions without knowing what that crackpot gave you."
"I think that's probably the reason he didn't tell you what he gave Harry in the first place. It's probably best not to mess with whatever Hr. Callahan's doing. Remember, Snape, even though you have a bit of training in healing, you aren't a healer. Callahan probably knows what he's doing better than you do," Sirius said simply.
Snape scowled at him. "Well, then why is Harry getting worse?" he challenged.
"The man isn't Merlin. Even magical medicine can't solve everything," Sirius said. "And maybe if you'd stop starting competitions over everything he does, he'd be more likely to tell you things."
Snape scowled at him but dropped it, not wanting to start a fight in front of Harry when the kid was obviously not feeling well.
"I like Hr. Callahan," Harry said tiredly.
"Why? Because he's nice to you?" Snape said sarcastically.
"Yeah," Harry said sleepily, pushing back some of his covers as his fever made him feel too hot and too cold both at once. "Because he's always nice to me, even when I'm difficult."
Both Sirius and Snape both felt a pang of guilt at this comment.
"I'm a little tired," Harry murmured, half-asleep already. "I think I'll go back to sleep for a little while, if that's all right."
"Yeah, Harry. That's all right," Sirius said sadly.
Snape pulled Harry's covers back over him and the boy made a murmur of protest and tried to push them away, even though he was shivering.
"Harry, keep them on, okay? The heat's good for you," Snape instructed.
"'Kay," Harry murmured just before his breathing evened out.
The two men left the room in silence.
"Try to keep him warm unless his fever gets too high," Snape instructed. "Don't force him to eat or drink if he doesn't want to, because he'll just vomit it right back up. I'll come back around nine tonight to see how he's doing."
"I don't think that'll be necessary, Snape. There's nothing you'd be able to do even if he wasn't feeling better," Sirius said.
"Well, Draco will want to know how he's doing," Snape said, omitting the fact that he would want to know how Harry was doing as well. "Plus, won't you want to know if he's getting worse?"
Sirius glared at the Potions master for his insinuating tone and said nothing.
"As I said before, I'll be back around nine," he said before turning abruptly and going downstairs to use the fireplace.
Sirius made several obscene gestures at Snape's back before the man flooed away.
.
When Snape did come back later that night, Sirius met him with a worried expression and led him up to Harry's room.
"He hasn't woken since you left. It's been over six hours. And, well, he just doesn't look very good. I owled Hr. Callahan, but he was busy with another patient and he said not to worry too much and that he'd try to find something else to help and just to put a cool cloth on his forehead if the fever got really high. But, well, look at him," he said worriedly as the two quietly entered Harry's room.
Harry was lying in his bed, his skin shimmering with sweat. His eyebrows were knitted in his sleep and he wore a pained expression. His breathing seemed a little quicker than normal and he looked slightly too pale. Snape went over and took his temperature. It had gotten a few degrees higher than before.
"Harry," he called, shaking the boy awake.
Harry groaned and wrenched his eyes open, blinking tiredly up at Snape.
"Professor?" he asked weakly, squinting at him. Snape slipped Harry's glasses onto his face. Sirius joined Snape at Harry's side.
"Hey, Har, how you feeling?" he asked.
"'m fine," he murmured hoarsely.
"Stupid question, Black," Snape muttered. "And even more stupid of an answer, Harry."
Harry chuckled weakly, but it turned into a hoarse cough that ripped painfully from his throat.
"Are you hungry at all?" Snape asked. "Can you stomach any food?" Harry shook his head tiredly. "How about some water?" Harry once again shook his head, a nauseous look on his face that told Snape not to force it. "Are you still tired?" he asked with a frown. Harry closed his eyes and nodded. "Alright, get some rest then."
Harry was already asleep. Sirius sighed and removed his godson's glasses.
The two quietly slipped out of the room.
"Look, Black, don't worry too much. This is often the way it goes with fevers. Harry's body is raising its temperature to kill whatever bug he's got and once it does that, he should get better pretty quickly. I'm sure he'll be well again by tomorrow or the next day. When is Callahan coming tomorrow?" Snape asked.
"He just said tomorrow morning. He thinks the potions he gave Harry earlier weren't strong enough with Harry's condition, so he's researching it tonight to see if he can find something better," Sirius informed him without the usual bitter tone as his worry was taking over.
"Alright, if there's a significant change in his condition, contact me and I'll be right over."
Sirius nodded and went to make himself some coffee as Snape left.
With a steaming cup in his hand, he made his way back up to Harry's room and pulled Harry's desk chair up to the bed, thankful he'd transfigured it into something more comfortable a few hours before. He cast a cooling charm on the rag on Harry's head and settled in for a long night.
.
The next morning, Fred, George, Ginny and Ron flooed into the Lighthouse to find Draco sitting impatiently in one of the living room chairs.
"Hey, Draco," Ginny greeted the blonde. "Are we allowed to go see Harry?"
"Not yet. Sev just went up there and Harry's healer will be here soon, so we have to wait," he said, clearly annoyed at the fact.
On cue, the fire flared up in green behind them and Hr. Callahan stepped out.
"Hi, is Harry still upstairs?" he asked kindly.
Before they had a chance to answer, Snape was at the stairs, calling for the man to come up.
"Sev," Draco called. "Can we see Ha…"
"Draco," Snape interrupted, "I don't think you're going to be able to visit Harry today," he said grimly as Hr. Callahan caught up with him on the stairs and the two quickly walked off toward Harry's room, speaking in hushed voices.
The five teenagers looked at each other worriedly. That didn't sound good. Ginny sat down next to Draco on the couch, and the other three boys found other places to sit and wait for news.
.
Snape and Hr. Callahan entered Harry's room to find the boy sitting up in bed, propped up by pillows, blinking over at them. He looked much how he had the previous night except for a strange dazed look in his eyes. Sirius was sitting next to him looking very upset.
"Professor?" Harry said in confusion, despite the fact that the man had been in their minutes before. "Do I have detention?"
"No, Harry, you don't. It's summer, remember?" Snape reminded him for the third time.
Hr. Callahan approached the bed. "Hey, Harry, do you remember me?" he asked gently, pulling out a stethoscope.
Harry looked at him blankly for a second before looking a bit upset himself. "I don't know," he said, sounding distressed.
"Hr. Callahan. Your healer. You come to me because we're trying to find out what's giving you those headaches, remember?" he asked in a hopeful tone.
"Okay," Harry said dismissively before looking out his window. "Hey, there's a hippogriff out there! I learned about them in Hagrid's class and then Hagrid was sad because they were going to kill Buckbeak for hurting Malfoy and we had to go through time and save him and there was an hourglass and I met someone…you!" he said excitedly pointing at Sirius, before his expression turned to one of confusion. "You tried to kill me and Ron and…some other people. Where am I?"
Hr. Callahan checked Harry's temperature and Harry looked at him suspiciously.
"He's delirious with fever," he announced with a frown.
"Oh really? We hadn't gotten that," Snape said sarcastically. Hr. Callahan shot him an annoyed look and went on, ignoring the comment.
"Anyway, I've spent the night working with some potions specialists at the hospital and I've brought some of the stuff they've been working on. They're still working so if this doesn't work, I'll hopefully have something else by tonight. I brought some for now and some for in about six hours," he said, pulling out a couple of vials and setting one aside on Harry's nightstand. "Hey, Harry, I want you to drink this, okay?"
"What is it?" Harry asked suspiciously. He looked up and gave Snape a suspicious look. "Does it have truth serum in it?"
"No, Harry, it's just medicine," Hr. Callahan asked.
"For my cancer?" he asked.
"No, you don't have cancer anymore. You just have a very high fever right now. I'm trying to help you, I promise. I just need you to drink this, okay?" Hr. Callahan asked with a comforting smile, holding the vial to Harry's lips and slowly tilting it.
Harry pushed his hand away suddenly looking very angry.
"Death Eater!" he yelled, glaring at the surprised man. He looked over at his godfather. "Sirius! It's Peter Pettigrew! Don't let him escape or we can't set you free!"
"Harry, Peter's already been given the Dementor's kiss. I witnessed it myself. This is Healer Callahan," Sirius said calmly.
"I know," Harry said with a strange look at Sirius, having completely forgotten his wild accusations.
"Don't be offended," Sirius assured the healer, "he's already thought I was Arthur Weasley and Minerva McGonagall."
"He put Veritaserum in there," Harry told Sirius. "Snape told him to."
Hr. Callahan sighed and looked over to Sirius for help, who nodded and took the vial. Hr. Callahan got up and Sirius moved into his place.
"Hey Har," he said, wiping Harry's sweaty fringe from his forehead.
"Sirius, you're free!" Harry said in surprise.
"Yes, yes I'm free and you're living with me. I want you to drink something for me, Harry, okay?" Sirius asked hopefully.
"It will make you happy if I drink it?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, it'll make me happy," Sirius confirmed.
"Okay then."
Sirius helped Harry drink the vial of liquid before the boy went back to looking out his window.
"Alright, the second dose is in that vial there and should be taken in six hours." Hr. Callahan quietly picked up Harry's wand off his nightstand and handed it to Sirius. "You might want to keep this out of his reach until the delirium has passed. Now don't be insulted if he doesn't seem to know you at times. As you can see, he's occasionally reverting back to past times and that might include him thinking your relationship is as it was in the past, meaning he might pick up old fights or conversations as if you were having them right now, or be confused about time or place. It's all normal and should pass, but if his temperature climbs any higher, contact me immediately. I'm going back to the lab to see if the potions specialists I'm working with have gotten any further."
As soon as he left, Snape picked up the second vial and Sirius rolled his eyes.
"I'm going to see what's in this. I'll have it back in a few hours," he said, pocketing the vial.
"Try not to go into shock when you find out it's properly made," Sirius said in annoyance.
Snape shot the man a cold look.
"I'll tell Draco and the Weasleys they can't see Harry today," he said.
Harry looked over at Snape. "Malfoy? What's Malfoy doing here?" he asked with a tinge of disgust in his voice.
"Yeah, it's definitely not a good idea for them to come up," Sirius said before reminding Harry that he and Draco were friends now, a fact that Harry didn't believe.
.
Downstairs, the five teenagers jumped to their feet when Snape came down.
"The healer wouldn't tell us anything!" Draco exclaimed indignantly. "He said something about healer-patient confidentiality and that you'd tell us, blah blah blah. Sev, what's going on?"
"Harry has a very high fever right now, so none of you will be visiting him today," he said sternly.
"Wait, is it something contagious?" Ginny asked, stepping in between Snape and the fireplace to make sure the man couldn't leave before answering her questions.
"Possibly," Snape said vaguely.
"Well, Weasley and I were in there all day yesterday and we're not sick," Draco pointed out.
"Yeah, can't we just go see him?" Ron asked.
"No, he's not up for visitors," Snape snapped, getting annoyed with the insistent teenagers.
"We just want a few minutes," George put in.
"Just to cheer him up a bit," Fred added.
"And to let him know we're worried about him," Ginny continued.
"No," Snape said firmly.
There were muffled shouts from upstairs and everyone looked up at the stairs in worried surprise.
"Snape," Sirius shouted as he ran to the edge of the stairs, looking upset, "can you come up here?"
Snape turned to the teenagers. "Everyone with red hair go home. Draco, wait here for me and if you try to sneak upstairs, you will be scrubbing the floors of the kitchen with a toothbrush…your toothbrush," he threatened before hurrying up the stairs. "What's the matter?" he asked Sirius quietly as the two got closer to Harry's room.
Sirius just shook his head and led the man into Harry's room. As soon as they entered, Harry looked at Sirius in horror.
"Professor! It's Sirius Black! It's him! He betrayed my parents! He's trying to kill me and my wand's gone!" Harry exclaimed, starting to get out of bed.
"I'm going to go get Remus, can you stay with him for a minute?" Sirius asked with a sigh.
Snape quickly agreed and rushed over to Harry's bed, trying to calm him and get him to lie back down.
Sirius heard Harry starting to explain to Snape that Sirius was insane and out to kill him as he hurried away from the room and down the stairs.
He was hit by a barrage of questions as he made his way to the fireplace. He put a hand up to silence them and quickly called Remus, who stepped through the fireplace seconds later.
"Remus," Sirius started, letting the five teenagers listen in, "Harry's gotten worse. His fever's gotten so high he's been delusional all morning. If you can stay, he occasionally starts thinking I'm trying to kill him like in his third year and he's never doubted you except for that one time in the Shrieking Shack, but…"
"Don't worry, Padfoot. Of course I'll stay," Remus said worriedly. "I'll go up right now."
Sirius nodded, taking a deep breath, looking a bit unsure of what to do with himself as Remus left the room.
The five teens looked at him with intense worry on their faces.
"Wait, Harry's delusional?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Yes," Sirius said with a sigh, "his fever's gotten dangerously high, but there's nothing we can do at the moment except wait and hope Hr. Callahan's potions start working or Harry's immune system can kick in and start fighting whatever it is."
"Is he going to be okay?" Ginny asked worriedly.
"I don't know. I hope so," Sirius said with a haunted look, his thoughts unwillingly drifting back to the previous year. He shook them away. "Well, Harry wouldn't want you all seeing him like this and he needs his rest. You can try coming back tomorrow, and I'll send news if he gets much worse, okay?"
The five begrudgingly agreed. Snape soon came down the stairs, collected Draco and after insisting Sirius call him if things got worse, flooed away with his godson. The Weasleys also left, ordering Sirius to tell Harry they came by and to owl them as soon as he was allowed to have visitors.
The next few hours were spent taking turns with Harry, who was drifting in and out of sleep along with different degrees of having a grasp on reality.
.
Sirius looked up in surprise as Mrs. Weasley stepped through the fireplace holding a large, steaming bowl in her hands with two oven mitts. He had just been making his way back upstairs with a cup of coffee. Remus had been called away earlier on some unavoidable Order business so Sirius was watching over Harry himself. A few minutes earlier, Harry had once again started panicking, believing his godfather was after him, so Sirius left the room to get some coffee and hoped Harry had forgotten about it by now or had at least calmed down.
"Molly?" Sirius asked in surprise.
"Hello Sirius. How's Harry doing? I brought him some soup," she said, holding up the bowl.
Sirius sighed. "Not so good, to tell you the truth. He's been drifting in and out of sleep all day and when he's conscious he's been completely out of it. He's running a nasty fever, and no matter how much he takes of the potions Hr. Callahan gave us, he just seems to get worse. It's nice that you stopped by, Molly, but I don't know if you should go up there right now. Harry's not himself. He's delirious with fever and doesn't make much sense when he talks and keeps forgetting where he is, or who I am, or why he can't go see Ron."
"Don't be silly, Sirius. I'm a mother of seven. I assure you I've dealt with it all, or am at least prepared for it all," Mrs. Weasley said confidently.
"Alright then. Be my guest. If Harry recognizes you, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you," Sirius said tiredly.
"Sirius, you look dead on your feet and it would be a lot better if you were awake for Harry, so why don't I watch him for an hour or so while you get some rest."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Of course I'm sure."
"Alright, just wake me when you're done."
Mrs. Weasley made her way up to Harry's room and walked in, setting the bowl on the nightstand.
Harry was lying in bed. His eyes looked strangely bruised as they blinked over at Mrs. Weasley. He was shivering slightly and his forehead was shining with perspiration. He swallowed painfully.
"Mrs. Weasley?" he asked with confusion.
Mrs. Weasley pulled over Harry's desk chair, sat down beside him and brushed his hair away from his face.
"Hi darling. I brought you some soup," she said kindly.
Harry ignored this and looked around the room blankly.
"Where am I?" he asked in confusion. Mrs. Weasley smiled at him sympathetically.
"You're in your room, Harry. At the Lighthouse."
Harry looked around the room in dazed wonder. "It's nice," he said wistfully. "Is this Sirius's house?"
"Yes, love, he's downstairs. Do you want me to go fetch him?"
Harry's eyes grew wide and he shook his head quickly. "No. It's his day off," he said anxiously.
"It's okay Harry, I won't get him," Mrs. Weasley said calmingly. Harry closed his eyes as an involuntary shiver made it's way down his spine. He opened his eyes wearily. The emerald orbs looked glazed over with fever.
"Do you want to try eating some soup?" Mrs. Wealsey asked gently. Harry looked over to the bowl skeptically.
"Who made it?" he asked tiredly.
"I did," she said with a motherly smile.
"Okay," he murmured, struggling to sit up. Mrs. Weasley helped him settle back against his headboard, shifting the pillows to make it more comfortable for him.
She moved the bowl to the edge of the bed. Harry reached for the spoon but his hand was shaking so violently, Mrs. Weasley gently pushed it away and lifted the spoon to Harry's mouth. Harry looked at her in bewildered surprise.
"Love, did your aunt ever take care of you when you were sick?" Mrs. Weasley asked, praying that at least Harry's aunt was decent.
Harry blinked at her in confusion. "Ron took care of me last year. He woke me up every day and made sure I took my medicine. Oh, and he gave me a shot. And Hermione told me stories," Harry muttered wistfully.
Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly, taking that answer as a no to her question.
"Well, open up, dear. Let's see if you can eat some of this soup."
Harry got down three spoonfuls of the hot liquid before turning his head away. Mrs. Weasley understood and put the bowl back on Harry's nightstand. Harry ran his hand over the maroon bedspread lovingly.
"It's all so nice," he murmured dazedly.
"Well you deserve it, dear," Mrs. Weasley said fondly. Harry shook his head.
"No, no," he muttered. "I have to give it back."
"No you don't Harry. It's yours. You're going to be staying here as long as you want," she said softly. Harry turned his glazed eyes to Mrs. Weasley.
"I have to go back to the Dursleys'," he said firmly but sadly. "I have to go to make everyone happy again."
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley said darkly, "you are never going back there. We would never let you go back there after what they did to you."
"It was just an accident," Harry muttered. "They don't really hate me, I just make it really hard for them. It was all my fault."
"Darling, no. It wasn't your fault at all!" Mrs. Weasley quickly protested.
Harry stared in a feverish haze at his bedspread.
"No, that's what they said and they're the only ones that don't lie to me. I can trust them," he said numbly. Mrs. Weasley looked at him in shock.
"The Dursleys?! How can you think that Harry?" she exclaimed in horror.
"It's true. They say they don't like me and it's true, but everyone else says they do like me but they don't, at least not really," he murmured in an oddly wistful voice.
"Oh darling, come here, we do like you," she said, going to pull Harry into a hug. Harry flinched violently at the move and stiffly shied away from an embrace.
"Please don't," he moaned.
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley started tearfully, "I'm not going to hurt you, darling. This isn't like the Dursleys. We all love you."
"Sirius doesn't," Harry said sadly, squirming back down so he was lying down again. Mrs. Weasley was too upset to help rearrange his pillows.
"Harry, Sirius loves you very much!" Mrs. Weasley protested
"No, that's what he thought until he found out I'm not like my dad and now he doesn't want me anymore," Harry said dejectedly. "I knew it would happen though. People can't live with me for very long before hating me. But I can give him his life back if I leave."
Harry closed his eyes and turned onto his side.
Mrs. Weasley looked at him with tears in her eyes. She hadn't known it was this bad.
She stood up to leave when she heard Harry call her name from the bed. She looked back to find begging green eyes upon her.
"Umm…" Harry murmured tiredly, turning his eyes from her abashedly, "could you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep? You don't have to but I just was wondering if maybe you wanted to sit down for a little while, if you're tired or something."
Mrs. Weasley gave him a sad smile and sat back down. "Of course I will," she said softly. Harry looked up at her guiltily, feeling bad about making her stay.
"If you're busy you don't have to. If you don't want to you could just go, really. I wouldn't mind..."
"Shh. It's okay, Harry, I want to stay with you. I'll be right here until you fall asleep," she said quietly, brushing his hair with her fingers soothingly. Harry's eyes slipped closed as he relaxed.
"Thank you," he murmured sleepily. "I'll go to sleep real soon, I promise."
Harry closed his eyes but kept intermittently opening them and glancing at Mrs. Weasley before closing them again.
"Harry, is there something you need, sweetie?" Mrs. Weasley asked gently as Harry opened his eyes again. He shook his head tiredly.
"No," he whispered, half-asleep. "I was just seeing if you were still there."
"I'm not leaving until you're asleep, Harry. I promise," she assured him.
Harry closed his eyes and nodded. Mrs. Weasley looked at him sympathetically as a tear slipped out from the corner of his closed eye, and dripped onto his pillow. She gently brushed his hair with her fingers to let him know she was still there.
True to her word, Mrs. Weasley stayed with him until she was sure Harry was asleep and a bit longer after. She kissed his forehead, which was still too hot for comfort, and went downstairs to see Sirius dozing on the couch. He jerked awake when she stepped on a squeaky stair and groggily sat up.
"Sirius," she said sadly as she entered the living room, "you really need to talk to Harry."
"What did he say?" Sirius asked worriedly.
"He thinks you don't want him anymore," she said with an accusing glare.
Sirius put his head into his hands and exhaled slowly. "I was going to talk to him the other day, but he was gone practically the whole day and then Ron and Draco both showed up and afterward, Harry went to bed early, and then these past few days he's been sick. I've been trying to talk to him, but things seem to keep coming up. When he gets better…"
The fireplace flared up and Snape stepped out carrying the vial with Harry's second dose of the potion looking annoyed.
"Hello Severus," Mrs. Weasley said with a sigh. Snape nodded at her.
"So, what did you find out about the potion?" Sirius asked, too stressed for the smug tone he'd been hoping for.
"It's fine," he grumbled, not liking to be wrong. "Just what he said, a mixture of some healing potions, pain relievers, fever reducers, and something for Harry's immune system."
"And was it made well?" Sirius asked.
Snape scowled at him. "Yes."
"Okay, can you try to be a bit less hostile toward Hr. Callahan now?" Sirius asked, sounding a bit stressed.
Snape just grumbled and went to go wake Harry and give him the second dose of the potion.
Mrs. Weasley turned to Sirius with a sigh. "Harry also doesn't look like he's been sleeping."
"I know, but I check on him every night and he's always asleep when I do," he protested.
"Well, if you'd like I know a useful spell that'll let you know if he's awake or not and will wake you if he wakes up in the middle of the night," she offered.
"Really?" Sirius asked, sounding relieved. "Merlin, that would help a lot. I never knew there was a spell like that. Can you teach it to me?"
Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly at him, happy that he seemed to really be trying to help Harry now. "Sure Sirius, come into the kitchen so I can put this soup away and we'll go over it."
.
"No, leave me alone," Harry moaned, pushing Sirius's hands away from him.
Harry had seemed to get progressively worse throughout the day and when he had started vomiting violently, Sirius had first called Hr. Callahan through the fireplace who just said he was working frantically on a potion he thought might work and would be over as soon as he could. He had then called Snape who, in an act of desperation, left Draco at the Burrow so he would know his godson was safe while he hurried over to the Lighthouse. Surprisingly, Draco hadn't complained too much about the whole matter, as he was too worried for his friend to argue.
Snape had entered to find Sirius kneeling beside his godson in the bathroom as Harry threw up into the toilet, shaking and coated with beads of sweat. Snape had decided they needed to get Harry's fever down and drew a tepid bath, making sure it wasn't cold enough to give him the chills. Now the problem was getting the delirious boy into the bathtub.
"Harry, please," Sirius tried to reason with him, "if you go in wearing your pajamas they're going to get soaking wet."
Snape started pulling Harry's shirt up, but Harry pushed his hands away.
"We'll let you keep your boxers on, how's that?" Snape bargained.
"I don't want you to see my scars," Harry whimpered. "And I don't want to take a bath. I just don't feel good. Can I just go to bed?"
"Harry, we need to get your temperature down, kiddo," Sirius pleaded.
Harry just looked at him blankly.
"We're just going to have to put him in the water in his clothes on," Snape concluded.
The two worked together to get Harry into the tub where they finally convinced him to take off his shirt.
"He's lost weight," Snape said with a frown.
"I guess it's back to force feeding him," Sirius said with a sigh.
Suddenly, Hr. Callahan appeared in the doorway, seeming a bit out of breath.
"I think we've finally got it," he announced with a hopeful grin.
He gave the vial to Sirius who convinced Harry to drink it down. Minutes later, the effects were already beginning to show. Harry's temperature began dropping slowly but steadily.
"Siri?" Harry asked, looking a bit confused as he looked around at them and suddenly self-conscious. "Er, why am I in the bath with my pants on and an audience?"
"Harry, do you recognize everyone here? Do you know where you are?" Hr. Callahan asked cautiously.
Harry nodded looking around at them all a bit warily. "Have we formed some sort of cult without my knowledge?" he joked uncomfortably.
"Well, he's back," Sirius said with a laugh. Snape quickly retrieved some of Harry's dry pajamas and handed them to Sirius who put them on the counter. "We'll leave you to get dressed, Har, but I want you to take it easy, okay? You're getting better but you're still sick. Do you want me to stay with you?"
Harry shook his head, standing up in the bath and reaching for a towel. "I'm fine."
"Okay, well, if you need me, just call. I'll be right outside the door," Sirius said, closing the door behind them.
He shook Hr. Callahan's hand profusely and even Snape begrudgingly thanked the healer.
"Well, owl me if anything else goes wrong, though I think Harry will be up and about, ready to go off trying to save the world again by tomorrow," Hr. Callahan said with a grin before leaving.
As soon as Harry was out of the bathroom, he was immediately ushered into bed by his concerned godfather. Snape stuck around to assess how Harry was feeling while Sirius heated up some of Mrs. Weasley's soup now that Harry was finally in the mood to eat something.
Eventually, Harry slipped back to sleep to finish healing and Sirius settled into his chair to make sure Harry was indeed getting better and that it wasn't just a temporary thing. Snape promised to bring Draco by in the morning so the boys could talk and Snape could look Harry over to make sure he was okay.
It was only later that the two realized in surprise that they had been civil to each other the entire time. Both wished they had gotten in at least one well-placed insult or remark and vowed to make up for it the next time.
.
Harry looked up from his conversation with Draco to see four redheads cracking open his door. When they saw he was awake they all entered.
Harry was lying in his bed sitting up against his pillows, hair messy as usual and clad in a white t-shirt and his plaid drawstring pajama pants, while Draco sat back in his desk chair, feet propped up on the edge of the bed. The morning sun was shining through the window, casting cheery light over everything.
"Hey, Harry, how you feeling, mate?" Ron asked.
"Completely better, but Sirius has confined me to bed for the rest of the morning while he catches up on some sleep," Harry said.
"Well it's probably for the best," Fred said.
"You should have a day just to rest," George agreed.
"I think I got enough of that in the past couple of days," Harry pointed out.
"Harry, it's summer. Time for relaxation," Ginny said firmly. "Take advantage of being able to lie around and get rested up for having some fun."
"So what are you guys doing for the rest of the day?" Harry asked to change the subject.
"We're going to Diagon Alley for a bit," Ron said. "I guess there's no hope in you coming along then."
"No, I'm basically banned from there now. I don't even know if Sirius is going to let me go for my supplies. He might just get them himself," Harry said with a sigh. "He says it's too dangerous."
"Well, I reckon he's right," Ron said reluctantly. "You never know what sort of tricks the Death Eaters might pull to get at you."
"Thanks, Ron. Very reassuring," Harry said sarcastically.
"Well, we must depart," George said dramatically.
"Mum will want a full report on how you're doing," Fred added, ruffling Harry's hair with a laugh. Harry shot him a playful glare and attempted to smooth it back down.
"Get some rest, Harry," Ginny said fondly, giving him a quick peck on the forehead before following her brothers from the room, making Harry's face immediately flush.
"And Har," Ron said seriously, "can we talk later? Please? I think…I think we really need to talk."
Harry was slightly taken aback by the pleading look in Ron's face. He wanted to say no, all part of his pushing people away campaign that hadn't really been working too well up to that point, but couldn't bring himself to do that to his friend.
"Okay, yeah. Sure," he said quietly.
"Good. Um, then I'll talk to you later," he said before following the rest of his siblings out.
Draco looked at Harry and raised his eyebrow in amusement. "So, you're moving right along with Ginny, I see. You should really slow down, Harry, I mean, isn't it getting a bit physical really fast? You've only been crushing on her for a year now and a kiss on the forehead? At this phenomenal rate, who knows what might happen! You could be on the road to a life of debauchery and prostitution."
"Uh huh, and who was the last girl that kissed you on the forehead?" Harry challenged.
"Oh yeah, who's the last girl you actually kissed?" Draco challenged in return.
Harry was silent.
"That's what I thought," Draco said smugly.
"I'd rather not be kissed at all than have Pansy Parkinson's lips even come within the vicinity of mine," Harry said with a smirk.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Touché. But please spare me the memory of that horrifying lack of judgment. It makes me want to vomit just thinking about it. Now Cho Chang on the other hand I understand to be a terrific snogger."
Harry's face contorted in horror and disgust as Draco laughed.
.
"Hey Har," Sirius said as he entered Harry's room a little later that day. He had just woken up from his recovery nap.
Harry looked up from the book he was reading. It was a Muggle book Kota had given to him as part of her campaign to make him read all the books she had read in school, or outside of it, that she felt were essential for everyone to be familiar with. She felt that Harry being a wizard was no excuse for him not to be educated in literature and therefore had been assigning him books all summer. "Whatcha reading?" Sirius asked, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed.
"The Crucible. Did you know they used to kill people just for being accused of being magical? In the book there's these girls who take everyone they don't like and accuse them of being witches and pretend that those people are hexing them. It would have been a disaster if Dudley had read this book, though that would require him actually being able to read, so I guess I was safe," Harry said with a grin.
"Harry, we need to talk," Sirius said gravely.
"Talk?" Harry asked in confusion. Sirius couldn't mean what Harry thought he meant. Sirius didn't do talks like that. "About what?"
"About a lot of things. I think…"
CRASH!
Harry's and Sirius's heads whipped around toward Harry's window where the sound had originated. Pig was hovering outside looking slightly dazed. Harry leaned over and let the owl in, immediately pulling off the piece of parchment attached to his leg.
The piece of paper was small, looking as if it had been quickly tore from something.
He turned it over to find Ginny's handwriting, only bigger and messier than usual.
Something's happened. Come quick.
-Ginny
Harry quickly handed Sirius the note.
The two exchanged a brief look before racing down to the fireplace.
.
Harry quickly walked into the kitchen where the Weasleys were located, along with, much to Harry's surprise, Dumbledore. Harry immediately knew something was terribly wrong. Mrs. Weasley sat at the table, weeping into her hands. Ginny and the twins were sitting around the table as well, all looking as if they were in shock.
Mr. Weasley was pacing back and forth frantically as he talked to Dumbledore.
"…and we were just walking and he was only behind us a small way's back, and I heard him call for me. I turned around but I…I couldn't get my wand out in time! They just grabbed him and Portkeyed away!"
"Who's they?" Dumbledore asked calmly, his eyes lacking their familiar twinkle.
"Um…two or three Death Eaters. It all happened so fast. Oh gods," Mr. Weasley said, looking absolutely panicked.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, very scared now. "What happened?"
Everyone looked up at him.
"They took him. They took Ron!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed hysterically. "They took my baby!"
…………………………………………………………………………..
A/N: Sorry once again about the review responses, but please review!