Wow I'm hitting a large piece of writers block here… Sorry about the long wait for this chapter…..
Severus Snape stared at the scene unraveling in front of him. He couldn't believe what was happening. The boy who lived was having a nightmare right in front of him, about his relatives no less. Cautiously, he stepped forward and placed a hand on the boy's forehead. It was still burning up. Awkwardly he fidgeted pushing the ice bottles closer to the small frame and wringing out a flannel and pressing it to the sweaty forehead. He watched as those emerald green eyes flickered violently underneath lids. Limbs twitched, and the murmurs became more frantic.
"Harry." The voice was loud and the tone stern, yet there was no reaction. Snape knew that it wasn't likely that it would've woken Harry up anyway. He sighed reaching out to the boy's shoulder and shook gently. The slight chest heaved off the bed violently. Harry gasped beneath him and started choking. Snape watched wide eyed as Potter faced silent enemies. With one final gasp, Harry woke with a start, his eyes staring unfocused straight into onyx. Unnerved Snape was unable to break the desperate gaze. After what seemed like an eternity he noticed the boy's hands shaking violently.
"Harry…" He said carefully and waved a hand in front of his face. No reaction greeted the blatant movement. He sighed and stood up off the bed, he hadn't realized he sat down on. He felt rather than saw Tizzy beside him and he put his hand out. As predicted a steaming cup of tea was placed in his palm with a vial of fever reducer. He plucked the cork from its spot and tipped the liquid into the tea. Gently he sat the boy up and slowly fed him the entire cup of tea. A harsh cough wracked his frame and Harry slumped, his body betraying his fatigue. Snape sighed and slid him back into a vertical position. One final hand was placed on the heated forehead. He then silently swept from the room, amid his silence; however, he neglected to here the small frame on the bed utter one word. "Harry." Returning to his own quarters, although not without making sure Tizzy was watching the boy. Wouldn't do to have the boy die on his watch. At least that was what he told himself was the reason.
The next morning Snape woke with a pounding headache. He grumbled to himself. Some dream he had, it almost felt like he had helped the Potter boy through a nightmare. How absurd, that would never happen. He made his way down to the kitchen for breakfast per usual. Tizzy was waiting for him.
"Master Potter is looking much improved sir. Is Tizzy to bring Master Potter breakfast?" Snape stood, face blank as he hid his momentary surprise. He waved a hand in confirmation and dismissal and proceeded to the table where his favorite breakfast awaited him. Tizzy arrived back to the kitchen before Severus had even finished his bowl or porridge. He set down the spoon and looked expectantly at the elf who was wringing her hands nervously.
"Little Master Potter is not eating his breakfasts. He doesn't notices Tizzy sir." Snape bowed his head, careful to make sure the little elf didn't think he was upset with her.
"I shall go attend to the boy, thank you Tizzy." With that the house-elf positively beamed and started to bustle around cleaning the breakfast dishes. Snape proceeded to Harry's room. He was surprised to see the young wizard sitting up in bed, although his eyes remained unfocused and glassy on the wall opposite. His head turned upon hearing the soft footfalls of the professor. A tray of food was set, steaming, on the bedside table. He sat at the chair which he had left beside the boy's bed and placed the tray on his lap, resuming the role of feeding the boy. The first spoonful went down with him only asking for a quick 'open' however the second was not as successful. The ungrateful brat turned his head away at the last moment. Snape almost spilled the food. He growled under his breath. He tried again and got the same reaction, but this time the boy started muttering. Seriously annoyed at the behavior, Snape threw the tray down on the bedside table and stood abruptly.
"Fine go hungry then!" He sputtered. He turned but for some reason something made him turn. He saw the boy reaching a shaking hand for the tray. His body too feeble for him to complete the task. Snape turned on his heel and marched back to the large bed. He lifted the tray and placed it gently on the dark maroon bed spread. He watched as the boy picked up the fork on his own accord and started to feed himself, albeit shakily.