Severus peered through eyes half-slitted open. Poppy hummed quietly to herself as she sorted potions into her cabinet. Severus knew he had about four hundred bottles of health-related potions left to brew and a few others Poppy needed for the upcoming school year. He knew he'd been here long enough. Three entire days! Merlin sake's alive! Albus had insisted he stay in bed and the ignamity of it tested Severus's sanity to the limit. He didn't even know what the matron had plied him with, but he wasn't used to seeking Poppy out to heal his ailments.

It was noon. Poppy's lunch would be delivered by the house-elves in two minutes, which she took in her office when not heading down to the Great Hall.

The potions master stood as quietly as he could, swaying dizzily for a few seconds. He hadn't been out of bed since the day the Muggle had arrived. No, wizard girl, Severus reminded himself.

"You really shouldn't be leaving," her tender alto whispered lightly. Poppy had restored her voice and the cold was clearing up.

Severus put on his best sneer.

"Children should be seen and not heard," he growled, counting on years of practiced stare-downs to put off the tattle-tale.

He whirled through the Hospital wing doors, momentum carrying him through a dizzy spell and down the corridor toward the dungeons. He slipped into his chambers, cool and dark, lightly musty with the dampness of hundreds of years' worth of mold and fungus growing slowly on the walls.

His first stop was for potions from his private stores, namely a Pepperup and a Restorative, which would clear up the rest of the spell's side effects. Poppy had refused to give them to him, saying she didn't want to harm his mind by healing it too fast.

"I am a potions master, surely I know what is good for my own mind," Snape grumbled.

He sank into the plush, dark green divan, popping the first vial and then the second, wondering if the girl would tell on him. Albus would be beating down his door soon.

His tired mind settled on the girl who looked familiar. Not a Muggle apparently. She had been quiet, but coughing regularly. Poppy had been able to do nothing since she was allergic to thistle and chamomile, two of the major ingredients in fever reducing and cough-suppressant potions. Well, not all healing potions, Severus thought. Actually helping a student, what was he coming to? But he felt he knew her, knew he had to help her somehow. He sighed, pinching the thin skin between his eyes and rolled over on the dark navy couch, sinking into the warmth of sleep.

Severus woke to a fluttering in his chest, and an angry mediwitch.

"Severus Monoceros Snape! Wake up! Headmaster, quick."

Hands lifted him up into a sitting position. Vaguely, he noticed he was still in his own rooms, as another vial was pushed to his lips. He tried to swat it away with his hand, but found himself too weak to move and laboring for breath.

"Drink it or die, you stubborn hippogriff," Poppy's voice jumped into high falsetto, and he swallowed like an obedient child. His heart was still fluttering. What was wrong?

"Thank Merlin for your tracking charm, Albus."

Severus was sweating now, chilled to the bone.

Poppy was waving her wand again. "Severus, you always break what I fix, don't you?"

"Hmmm,mmm ahhhhhpppp," Severus tried to tell her to shove off, but nothing came out of his mouth. He was pulled back into something soft and tickly, Albus, who was holding him lightly to his chest.

"Hospital Wing, Poppy?"

"No, he's not stable enough yet. His heart is still reacting to the Pepper Up and the ginseng. After the heat stroke, his heart may not be able to take the strain."