Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Since I neglected this story for so long, I decided to give you another chapter in a very short amount of time! I am so thankful to those who are still reading! I really appreciate it! Thanks also for your sympathy about my brother. It's been very difficult, but I am glad I can channel my emotions into writing.

And yes, I know that for the past few chapters, my story has been keeping to canon quite a bit. However, this chapter and the ones to follow will be extremely different. Some of you may hate me by the end of the next one, and that's all I'm going to say!

Okay, here goes.

Chapter 55: A Sick Pup

As time passed, things at Hogwarts continued to progress. Harry and his friends went on with their rebellion, conducting Dumbledore's Army meetings every week. Even though Harry was sometimes nervous about doing it, the end result was always thrilling. There was so much determination within the group, and everyone was practicing their spells really hard.

Harry could see that the three people who had the most determination were Neville, Colin, and Cho. Cho's motivation was obviously Cedric; she wanted to fight to avenge him, and this was perfectly understandable. Colin's motivation was the dream he'd had about his little brother dying and him not being able to do anything to save him. Neville fought because he knew that Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Barty Crouch, Jr. were still out there, and the fact that Crouch Jr. had taught him all last year had really gotten to him. So now he had a fierce drive to destroy the evil in the world.

Since Slughorn was such a suck-up to Dolores Umbridge, she allowed S.A.N.E to keep running. So Harry and his friends still conducted their weekly meetings with the Slytherins. Helena was still doing a fantastic job coming into her own, and she was a big help to any student who was having a hard time. One could often glimpse her talking quietly to Theodore Nott, who always seemed to look anxious. Sometimes the Slytherins discussed the matter of Voldemort, but other times, more lighthearted topics were addressed.

To say that the first Quidditch match went well would be a lie, though. The Gryffindors ended up winning because Harry caught the Snitch, but some of the Slytherins on the team played the dirtiest the Gryffindors had ever seen. Many of them were part of Draco Malfoy's group, not part of S.A.N.E. Malfoy himself kept cracking insults about Cedric the whole time, which made Harry angrier and angrier.

Also, Malfoy and his cronies had made up a horrible song, entitled "Weasley is Our King." Apparently, Malfoy had been spying when the Gryffindors practiced, and he made fun of the fact that Ron lacked confidence when it came to blocking goals. Not only was the song insulting to Ron's self-esteem, but it also ridiculed his family. This made Ron have an even harder time on the pitch, and Harry could see the total misery in his eyes as he tried over and over again to block a single goal.

Things came to a head at the end of the game when Malfoy said something that made Harry the angriest he had ever been at him. He made a comment about the Weasleys' pigsty smelling like Godric's Hollow, and that's why he liked it. The way he said it was extremely derogatory and degrading. Instead of beating him up, though, Harry left the pitch in tears. Fred and George, on the other hand, had different ideas. They were the ones to beat Malfoy into a bloody pulp, and then Umbridge proceeded to kick them off the Quidditch team.

Needless to say, Angelina Johnson was furious. Tryouts were held so that two replacement Beaters could fill their positions, and they ended up being, surprisingly, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Fred and George received a Howler from Mrs. Weasley, and they were in a foul mood for days.

Umbridge was as insufferable as ever, only allowing the students to read their textbooks in class. Hermione, of course, had memorized the whole book, but read it again just to appease the toadlike woman. Ron sometimes couldn't refrain from making a derisive comment, so he was seen to be trudging to detention many times after supper. The Concealing Charm Umbridge placed on the back of his hand still held firm and true, but Ron's resolve to find a way to remove it did as well.

Harry was also still having his therapy sessions to try and help him through the guilt and grief of Cedric's death. His guardians' kindness was helping, but the nightmares still persisted on haunting him. The image of his big brother's pleading gaze that it wasn't his fault only made it worse. The sight of him being forced to his knees and then being hit by the Avada Kedavra made Harry sob in despair. But Sirius and Remus told themselves that they would get Harry through this, whatever it took.

It was December now, and the weather was getting colder. Hogwarts received its first snow; it was hard to believe, but Christmas was coming. In about ten days, many students would be going home for the holidays. Harry and the Weasleys would be going to their respective houses, and Hermione would be spending the holiday with her parents.

On a snowy Tuesday morning, Harry awoke and immediately knew something was wrong. His head was pounding; it felt like someone was banging it with a hammer. He was shivering and shaking all over, and his teeth were chattering. When he tried to move, he felt pain resonate throughout his entire body.

"Oy, Harry, mate, time to get up," Dean said as the other boys awakened and dressed. "This isn't like you."

"I can't," Harry croaked weakly as he once again tried to get out of bed.

"Why not?" asked Neville. "Is everything okay? You don't sound too good."

"I'm not feeling well today," Harry admitted.

Ron parted the curtains on Harry's bed (Neville had woken him up), and he gasped at the sight of his friend. He put a hand on Harry's forehead and exclaimed, "Whoa mate, you're burning up! You should go to the hospital wing! I'll go tell Gin and Hermione, they'll know what to do."

"K," muttered Harry sleepily, burrowing down into his covers again. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep.

A few minutes later, Ron returned, with Hermione and Ginny in tow. All the boys were dressed, so they said it was fine if the girls came into their room. Hermione and Ginny tried to help Harry stand, but as soon as he did, dizziness swept over him and he fell onto the floor. He was stubborn, though, so after the third attempt, he finally managed to walk on wobbly legs, with the girls supporting him, and Ron and Neville walking alongside them.

They walked like this all the way to the hospital wing. Once they got there, they gently got him situated on a bed and called Madame Pomfrey. She bustled over, her face softening with concern as she looked at Harry. "I think I know what this is, it's been going around lately," she said quietly as not to make Harry's head hurt more.

Harry's friends wanted to stay with him, but Madame Pomfrey insisted that he needed his rest. After many protests, the four finally left his side, but not without saying, "Feel better soon, Harry," in soft, gentle voices.

Harry didn't know what had been going around lately, and he was too tired to ask. Waves of nausea were rolling over him, but the exhaustion was too much to deny. The matron gave him a few potions and then told her patient to relax. "In a few hours we'll know whether you have what I think you do," she told him.

So Harry lay down beneath the covers and let the tiredness wash over him. In less than a minute, he was asleep.

xxx

When Harry next awoke, it was to two soft voices and gentle hands being placed atop his fevered forehead. He tried to make out through the fog what the voices were saying.

"... Oh yeah. James was insufferable. He was like that on a good day, you didn't want to see him when he was sick. If Harry's anything like him ..."

A soft chuckle. "And what about you, Padfoot? This is the pot calling the kettle black. ... If I remember correctly ..."

"Shhh, I think he's waking up," said the other voice softly. Harry felt his hair being stroked, and he tried desperately to remember who and where he was. Well, he could surmise that his name was Harry. But where was he? The bright lights hurt his eyes, and he put his hands over them.

"It's all right, cub," came the second soft voice he had heard. "I know you feel awful. Padfoot and I are here to take you home."

"What ..." Harry croaked. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, pup," said Sirius quietly. "Madame Pomfrey just told us you have the wizarding flu. We're here to take you home; I'm afraid you're going to be out of commission for a while."

"The what?" croaked Harry. His headache and nausea were coming back with a vengeance.

"The wizarding flu," said Remus. "And she says you have it pretty badly, too."

"But don't worry," soothed Sirius. "Moony and I will take good care of you."

"What's ... what's the wizarding flu?" asked Harry groggily. "Hermione mentioned that she had it over the summer a few years ago, but what is it?"

"Most wizards get it once in their lifetime," answered Sirius, squeezing his godson's hand. "It's rather like the Muggle chicken pox in the way that most people only receive it once. Once you've had it, you're unlikely to get it again. I'm afraid when one usually gets it, they're sick for about ten days or so."

Harry groaned. He wasn't looking forward to spending ten days cooped up in bed feeling like this. "That long?" he asked in a small voice. Then he immediately grew worried. "I don't want you to get it!"

His guardians both chuckled. "Don't worry, we've already had it," Sirius laughed. "I had it at Christmas of my seventh year."

"And I had it just before I started teaching your third year," added Remus. "So you don't have to be concerned about us getting it."

Harry sighed with relief. "But what about schoolwork and everything else I have to do?" he asked.

"Professor Dumbledore already knows, and he'll tell the other professors," Sirius told him quietly. "Your friends know as well. They stopped by a few minutes ago to say goodbye, but you were sleeping. They promised to write to you."

"K," said Harry, not being able to think of any more arguments. He tried to get up, and Sirius and Remus put strong hands on his shoulders. As he was leaving, Madame Pomfrey came out of her office and said, "Please feel better, Harry. I'll see you next year."

It was true that in about ten days' time, the school term would end, so this meant that Harry probably wouldn't be back until the following year. He managed to smile and thank her weakly as he was led out.

"We're going to apparate with you," said Sirius as they reached the edge of the apparition boundary. "Hold on to my arm. Since you don't feel well, the sensation will be very disorienting to you, but I'm afraid it's the only way we can get you home. We know you don't like portkeys, and Floo travel wouldn't be good for you at this time."

"Okay," said Harry. The bright sunlight was really affecting his eyes. Every muscle in his body seemed to ache, and his head still felt like someone was trying to saw it off.

A few seconds later, they arrived at 804, Lawdershod Avenue. As soon as they got inside, Harry ran on pure adrenaline to the bathroom, where he proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach. He felt his hair being comfortingly stroked as he heaved and heaved.

"I'm s-sorry," he stammered when he was finally done. God, this was so embarrassing.

But the two men only laughed. "Kiddo, there's no need to be sorry," Sirius soothed as he gently wiped Harry's face. "I told you we'd take care of you."

But Harry still looked the picture of ashamed as he stared at his two loving guardians. He'd never been taken care of when he was sick before. He could remember once being sick at the Dursleys, and they'd just told him what a waste of human flesh he was. They wouldn't let him use the bathroom when he pleaded with them that he had to throw up, but then he couldn't win, because they yelled at him when he vomited all over the floor in the cupboard. That three days when he was ill was one of the worst times in his life; he could never forget lying in his pathetic little cot, shivering and shaking with fever, sobbing as his uncle snarled and hurled insults at him.

Sirius and Remus seemed to sense what Harry was thinking, and as they walked him into his room and got him comfortable in bed, they were as tender and loving as possible. Remus checked Harry's temperature, and his fever was very high. He gave him a fever-reducing potion, one which Madame Pomfrey had given him, which would hopefully try to bring it down.

"Hey, you wanna know something, kiddo?" asked Sirius, who could tell that Harry was still feeling miserable.

"What's that?" asked Harry. Sirius took one of his hands while Remus took the other.

"I remember when your father was struck down with this illness," said Sirius, and there was a smile in his voice when he said, "He was completely insufferable. Drove his parents absolutely up the wall! He got it just before I did, right before Christmas of our seventh year."

"What was I saying before, Padfoot?" Remus snorted with laughter. "James wasn't the only insufferable one. If I remember correctly, you caught it from him, and James told me you drove his parents crazy as well."

"Not me," Sirius pouted.

"Yes, you," Remus teased, punching his friend playfully on the arm.

"Fine, fine, you win," said Sirius, grinning broadly. "And guess what, Harry? Your father, the Marauder who always loved Hogwarts, didn't want to go back to school without me! See, when the new term began, I wasn't quite better yet, so I missed a few days in January while James had to carry on in my stead. I wouldn't stop infuriating his parents. As you know, that's where I lived then, with your grandparents."

"But all that aside, cub, we want you to know something. Having wizarding flu is no fun, and you have every right to drive us crazy if you want to. As a matter of fact, we ENCOURAGE you to." Remus tried desperately to get a smile out of Harry.

The boy did crack a little grin. He knew what the two men were trying to do, and he appreciated their efforts. But this was still so foreign to him.

"Let us know if you need anything, pup," said Sirius softly, kissing Harry's forehead. "You look exhausted, Moony and I will let you sleep some more. Okay?"

"Yeah," said Harry, and he couldn't help but smile through all the pain and nausea he was feeling. "Thanks," he said sincerely.

"Anything for you, cub," Remus said, tenderly brushing Harry's sweaty bangs out of his eyes. "And if you want, we'll tell you more stories about your wild father later."

Harry chuckled a little. "All right."

xxx

As Harry lay sleeping, Sirius and Remus went into the living room. "It's days like today where I just want to go and finish the Dursleys off," Sirius couldn't help growling out as they sat down on the couch.

"I know, I feel the same way," Remus admitted. "The way he was looking at us, I know he's never been taken care of like this before."

"I kind of know how Harry's feeling," Sirius went on, "because it was pretty much the same for me growing up. It wasn't until I got the wizarding flu in our seventh year that I knew what it was like to be taken care of. James's parents were really good at that."

"I know. I hope we can show Harry that we can do the same for him. It looks like he's going to be sick for a while."

"Yeah, and we'll have to be prepared for any outbursts of emotion that come up. Remember that one of the symptoms of wizarding flu is that feelings can spiral out of control."

"Yes, I know. Poor cub. He's had to deal with so much, what with Cedric's death and Voldemort's return and all that. I can't even imagine."

"It's rotten," said Sirius, gazing out the window. "But I'm glad he's had the support of his friends the last few months. I'm just so very proud of him, what with all he's doing at Hogwarts."

"Me, too. I just hope to Merlin that Umbridge doesn't ever find out what he's doing to rebel against her."

"I hate that woman," Sirius muttered. "It's a good thing Dumbledore's still Headmaster, even though I can't stand the bloody fool sometimes. If Umbridge was in charge she wouldn't have let Harry come home to us, she would have wanted him to suffer."

"I know," Remus said softly. "I know."

So as the day went by, Harry continued to sleep soundly in his room. Even though nightmares plagued him, and the nausea and headaches kept rolling over him, he knew one thing as he burrowed beneath the covers, and that one thing made him feel safe and secure.

He was loved.