It had now been three days since Scabior's operation, and the head Snatcher wasn't doing so well. He ate very little and slept even less, often waking up in the middle of the night because his throat hurt so much he couldn't sleep.

Under normal circumstances, sleep was the best thing for someone who was recovering from illness or surgery. But Scabior's throat dried out while he slept, causing the pain to intensify. He soon lost the ability to sleep through the night without waking up in tremendous pain.

Nights were long, with Draconius waking Scabior up every forty-five minutes to have him sip some water before letting him go back to sleep.

She put her hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake and softly calling his name to rouse him from his slumber. His eyes opened slowly, gazing into the darkness of their dimly lit bedroom. She then placed her hand beneath his head, raising him up off the mound of pillows as she held a glass of water to his lips.

"Scabior," she said softly. "Come on, sweetie. You have to drink something before you can go back to sleep."

Scabior drank the water, wincing as each sip stung the back of his throat. He could barely force the liquid past the inflamed tissues, his throat protesting against his actions as he took another sip, the muscles contracting with intense pain every time he swallowed.

He didn't know that having his tonsils out would lead to this, that he would need to be woken up several times throughout the night and fed small amounts of liquids to keep his throat from drying out. Scabior thought that once the operation was over he'd be left alone to rest. But recovery from this sort of procedure wasn't as easy as he thought.

Throughout his recovery, Draconius constantly stressed the importance of staying hydrated, telling him that he needed to drink plenty of fluids to keep his throat moist. One night Scabior grew tired of her always pestering him, waking him up every couple of minutes and making him drink something. He pushed the glass of water away, then rolled over and went back to sleep. But the pain he felt upon waking up had him scrambling for the glass of water his wife had placed on the nightstand.

Draconius stood back and watched as Scabior reached for the glass of water, a frantic look in his eyes as though he were about to die of thirst if he didn't drink something right away. "You'll learn to listen to me eventually, Scabior," she said, frowning in annoyance as she crossed her arms over her chest. "And if you want to get through this with as little discomfort as possible, I strongly suggest that you listen to me."

Scabior glanced at his wife as he raised the glass of water to his lips, taking a sip and nearly choking as he tried to force the liquid past the irritated tissues of his throat. The first sip went down rough, but it helped soothe his sore throat and made it easier for him to keep drinking.

"Do you feel better now?" Draconius asked.

Scabior nodded, hesitating slightly before taking another sip.

"I can get you some ice chips if you want. They're good to chew on, and will help keep your throat from drying out."

He nodded again, taking another sip of water before setting the glass on the nightstand.

Draconius smiled, nodding in approval. "Good. I'm glad you've finally decided to listen to me."

Scabior sighed and leaned back against the pillows on the bed. There were dark circles under his eyes, his wild and unruly hair sticking out at odd angles, the crimson strands tangling with the brown. He had no strength left, his body passing beyond the point of exhaustion from lack of sleep.

"Go to sleep, sweetie," said Draconius. "I'll wake you in a little while so you can drink some more water. And tomorrow we'll give the ice chips a try. I think you'll find that ice is a better, easier way to keep your scabs from drying out than constantly sipping water."

Scabior's eyes had just begun to close when suddenly he looked over at her with a confused expression on his face. Draconius wondered what was wrong, and then she remembered that she hadn't explained to him how the healing process worked when someone was recovering from a tonsillectomy.

"Are you confused because I used the word 'scabs' instead of 'throat', Scabior?"

Scabior nodded.

"When you get your tonsils taken out, your throat heals like any other wound. Which means scabs start to form in the back of your throat as you heal." She paused, taking a moment to conjure a mirror that she held up in front of him so he could see his reflection. "Would you like to take a look?" Another flick of her wrist and her wand flared to life, shining brightly in the dimly lit bedroom.

Curious about what he might see, Scabior leaned forward slightly and opened his mouth. He then quickly recoiled in horror at the sight of the white patches that had formed in the back of his throat.

"What's wrong?" Draconius asked. "Don't like what you see in there, Scabior?"

Scabior held his throat, blinking in surprise as he slumped back against the pillows. He was disgusted by what he'd seen, as well as shocked by how different his throat looked now that his tonsils had been removed.

He was used to the sight of the inflamed tissues crowding his throat. Even when he wasn't sick his tonsils were permanently engorged, and his throat was almost always sore. But now there was nothing. Just a thick coating of white material that had tightly adhered to the empty recesses along the sides of his throat.

"I know it's not a pretty sight, but you won't always look like that," said Draconius, as she extinguished the light in her wand. "The scabs start to come off around seven to ten days. It's a slow process that takes time to complete. But within a few weeks you'll be fully healed and feeling better than ever."

'But 'ow am I supposed to make it until then?' Scabior thought. 'It would be a different story if I could sleep through the night without getting woken up every forty-five minutes. Or if my throat wasn't raw an burning.'

Draconius could tell by the look on his face that he was miserable. "Scabior," she said softly. "Do you want me to try giving you a stronger pain relieving potion?"

He nodded, not even looking at her as he gazed down at the blanket on the bed.

"Alright, sweetie. Tomorrow morning I'll start you on a stronger potion, and we'll try using ice to help relieve the pain. And I think there's a spell I can use that'll help ease some of the discomfort. But for now you should get some rest."

.oOo.

Scabior awoke at half past eight in the morning, his wife holding his head up off the pillow as she helped him sip some water.

"Good morning, sweetie," said Draconius, her voice gentle and kind as she spoke. "You ready to try something new that'll hopefully make you feel better?"

Scabior nodded, his eyes drifting closed as she laid his head on the pillow. He was so tired he could barely stay awake.

Draconius reached for his plaid scarf, which had been hung over the bedpost, and cast a freezing charm on it. The charm made the fabric feel very cold and partially crystalized the material, making it slightly stiff and cold like ice. She wrapped the cold scarf around his neck, then stood back and waited to see what his reaction would be.

Scabior's body visibly relaxed, a content smile spreading across his face as he sank back into the soft mound of pillows.

This was what Draconius called an "ice collar." She often used it on her patients who were recovering from getting their tonsils out. It was a substitute for ice packs in the wizarding world, and the ice cold material helped reduce some of the pain and inflammation in Scabior's throat.

"There we go. You look much better now, sweetie," said Draconius. "Now hold on a minute while I get you a different pain relieving potion."

Draconius got into her medicine chest and brought out a bottle containing a dark, amber colored liquid. This was the strongest pain reliever she had. If this didn't ease his suffering and bring him some relief then nothing would.

She sat down on the side of the bed, and poured some of the potion into a spoon. Scabior could see what looked like minute flecks of gold shimmering in the thick, syrupy liquid. He'd never seen a potion like this before, and he wondered what was in it that made it sparkle like it had been filled with glitter.

"It might be difficult for you to swallow this since it's so thick," said Draconius, holding the spoon out in front of him. "But if you can manage to get some of this in your system, you should start feeling better soon."

She fed him the potion, which he struggled with momentarily before swallowing. The thickened liquid slid down his throat, where it began to work seconds after settling in his stomach, taking the edge off his discomfort and relieving some of his pain.

"Feeling better?" Draconius asked.

Scabior nodded, then mouthed the words "thank you."

"There, you see, Scabior? I told you this wouldn't be so bad. All we had to do was find the right potion to help relieve the pain. Now, how about some breakfast? I can get you some more ice cream if you want."

Scabior didn't look too enthused. He liked having his meals brought to him while he rested in bed, but the thought of consuming a meal made his throat constrict with pain.

His wife saw that he wasn't interested in eating, and tried reassuring him that everything would be alright now that he'd started the new potion. She then left the room, returning a few minutes later with a bowl of sorbet.

To her, ice cream and sorbet were the same thing, they were just made with different ingredients. This was why Draconius referred to sorbet as ice cream, even though she specifically stated that he was not to have ice cream while he was recovering, and had been giving him sorbet along with an assortment of other easy to swallow foods.

"You ought to consider yourself lucky, Scabior," said Draconius, taking a seat beside him in bed. "Not everyone gets to eat ice cream for breakfast. But since you've had your tonsils taken out, you're a special case."

Scabior looked down at the bowl of multi-colored sorbet, watching as she dipped a spoon into the fruit flavored confection and prepared to feed it to him. He preferred fruit and fruit flavored foods over the milky taste of ice cream anyway, and his stomach produced an audible growl at the sight of his favorite frozen treat.

"Uh-huh. You see? I knew you were hungry," said Draconius, smiling at him as he grinned sheepishly. "Now let's get some food into that empty belly."

She spooned a portion of the sorbet into his mouth, taking her time and waiting patiently for him to swallow each mouthful. The first few bites were hard to swallow, even with the new potion he was taking. But the coolness of the sorbet helped soothe his throat. And after a little while Scabior found it much easier to eat the rest of his breakfast.

Maybe his wife was right. This wasn't so bad after all. The new pain relieving potion, along with the cold scarf around his neck and the sweet tasting sorbet, helped make the pain bearable. It didn't make it go away, but it was now at a level he could tolerate.

'I could get used to having room service,' Scabior thought as she fed him another spoonful of sorbet.

Draconius paused, the spoon halfway to his mouth. Was he smiling at her? Maybe the new potion was making him a little loopy. Really strong painkillers had a tendency to do that.

After breakfast, Draconius brought him a cup of ice chips. Scabior slightly chewed one of the chips, then held it against the back of his throat. The cool ice felt good against his sore throat, and helped keep his throat comfortably numb after the sorbet had helped relieve some of the pain and swelling.

Draconius could tell by the relaxed expression on his face that he was feeling better, as he lay back in bed chewing the ice she brought him.

'I can get through this,' Scabior thought, reaching for the cup of ice and placing a few more chips in his mouth. 'It's painful, but it beats 'aving tonsillitis for the rest of my life.'

They continued like this for the next couple of days, with Scabior chewing ice chips, sipping water and apple juice, and eating popsicles and sorbet to help soothe his throat, until his wife began adding other things to his diet.

She gave him applesauce, and mashed potatoes that had been watered down with chicken broth until it became a thin potato soup. Scabior was especially fond of the potato soup, because it was easy to swallow and satisfied his hunger better than the applesauce and sorbet. However Melody wasn't pleased with the type of foods Draconius had been serving her father.

"This is cruel," said Melody, frowning in disgust as she watched her mother fill a bowl with mashed potato soup. "Not to mention really gross."

"What?" Draconius looked up from pouring the soup into a bowl. "What's wrong with it?"

"Look at this slop. Applesauce, mashed potato soup. You've put him on a baby food diet, mum. You couldn't have waited until after the holidays to do this to him?"

"He wouldn't have been able to eat the regular foods I make during Christmas anyway," Draconius reminded her. "Besides, he's been putting this off long enough. It's better that it's over now."

.oOo.

It had now been one full week since he'd had his tonsils removed, and Scabior was feeling much better. He could sleep through most of the night without needing to be woken up as often. He was eating more and getting more rest, which greatly improved his mood as he continued to recover from his operation.

Sometimes Scabior would venture out of bed, standing outside on the porch for a bit of fresh air, then later coming back inside and dozing off on the couch in the living room.

Draconius let him sleep wherever he wanted. When he slept on the couch, she brought him a pillow and his favorite blue and white plaid blanket to help make him more comfortable. She knew that rest was the best thing for him, and was glad he was getting more sleep.

On the eighth day of his recovery Scabior suffered an apparent relapse, waking up in the middle of the night with an intense, burning pain in his throat. This pain wasn't like what he'd felt before. This felt more like the searing pain of a raw open wound.

At first Draconius thought his throat was dry, and that all he needed was a drink of water. But when she offered him a glass of water he refused to drink it.

"I can't," Scabior whispered faintly.

This was the first time Scabior had spoken since the operation, and he was surprised to hear how different his voice sounded.

"Wha's wrong with my voice?" he asked, a mixture of confusion and concern on his face. The thick, nasal quality of his voice made it sound like he had come down with a bad head cold.

"Scabior, you're talking!" said Draconius. She was thrilled to hear her husband's voice again, even though it did sound rather strange.

"Yes, but wha's wrong? I don't sound right." His voice cracked, and he started coughing. He covered his mouth with his hand, his fingers coming away with threads of clear saliva dotted with flecks of blood and bits of white material.

Scabior was horrified by the mess on his fingers. "Wha's 'abbening? Draconius, wha's wrong?"

"Shh, don't talk so much, sweetie." She pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand, and used it to clean the mixture of blood and saliva off his fingers. "Your scabs are starting to come off. It's perfectly normal, Scabior. It also explains why your pain has gotten worse."

This was too much. After everything he'd been through Scabior thought he was getting better, only to discover that his recovery was far from complete.

"The reason why your voice sounds strange is because you still need time to heal," Draconius continued. "Your throat is still swollen, and it's effecting your ability to speak. But that should clear up in a few weeks."

"I sound like I'b got a bad code," said Scabior. He did not look pleased with this development. He just wanted to start feeling better. But every time he thought he was getting better he had another set back.

"Poor puppy," said Draconius, easing his hair out of his face.

"Don't call be dat," Scabior grumbled, his speech slowed as he struggled to get his words out. He was having a difficult time talking around the swelling in his throat, and often got stuck trying to pronounce certain words, trying several times before he could finish his sentence.

Draconius pressed a glass of water into his hands. "Drink, Scabior. The more you drink the better you'll feel, and it'll help you recover faster."

Scabior looked at the glass of water in his hands, wondering just how on earth he was going to drink it. He could feel the loose scabs move whenever he swallowed, giving him the feeling that something was stuck in his throat. If he could he would have peeled the scabs off the back of his throat, but he seriously doubted if that was a good idea.

He tried taking a sip of water, and felt the liquid tugging at the loosened scabs as it passed over his throat. Seconds after he swallowed he went into another coughing fit, which dislodged several flakes of the white material that lined his throat.

Scabior gasped, trying to catch his breath, the coughing fit and intense, searing pain robbing him of his breath. He didn't even care that a thin trail of watery saliva had escaped his lips to trickle down his chin. He was in so much pain that all he could think about was how much his throat hurt.

When it became apparent that he couldn't drink anymore, Draconius took the glass and set it on the nightstand, then wiped the saliva off his chin with a tissue. "I know you're in a lot of pain right now, but it's almost over with, Scabior," she said. "It's normal for the pain to reach its second peak around this time, and your throat is going to be very sore again for the next several days. But afterwards you won't feel quite as bad as you have been."

Scabior sighed and collapsed against the mound of pillows on the bed. 'Just a couple more days,' he told himself. 'Just a little while longer an this will all be over.'

"You've been through a lot these last couple of days," his wife said, reaching over and gently stroking his hair, watching him relax as she ran her fingers through his tangled red and brown hair. "But I bet you'll be glad you had this done, once you've healed and can put everything behind you."

"I already am," said Scabior, speaking slowly in a low, hushed tone as he looked over at his wife, his sentences broken by awkward pauses as he struggled to speak. "Dis 'as been...one of the worst experiences of my life, but...I don't regret 'aving dis done. An I'll tell you someting else... I don't know...if body parts can suffer eternal damnation...but I 'ope my tonsils are rotting in 'ell for wha dey put me through."

Draconius couldn't help but laugh. Her husband seemed to be feeling better already, despite the pain he was in. He was in good spirits, knowing that the end was in sight and that he wouldn't have to deal with being sick all the time. She smiled at him, and was pleased to see a grin spread across his tired face.