I Don't Want to be a Hero - Second Year
Chapter Twelve
Sniffles & Sneezes - 2 Oct 1992
October was the season for Halloween and colds. Nearly every student suffered from sniffles and sneezes. Professor Snape was kept busy with his classes, his Slytherins, his son, and brewing Pepper-Up Potion to keep the student body functioning.
Despite doses of Pepper-Up, loads of willow bark and chamomile tea, and vitamin C drops there were still students that took on the cold germs and their bodies turned them into flu.
Harry had awakened to the normal chill of the morning since the wood in the pot-bellied stove had burned down to embers that night. He added more wood, stoked the fire so it was toasty, and then went for his shower. Along the way he began to sneeze.
In the middle of breakfast Harry felt the first twinges that signalled sore joints, but he popped an orange vitamin C drop into his mouth, had extra orange juice, and ignored the symptoms after he had had some Pepper-Up Potion. His first practice for Quidditch would be late afternoon, and there was no way he was going to miss it.
Harry flew through Herbology, Ancient Runes, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration. He counted himself lucky that he would not have Potions until Monday and so his father did not see him sniffling and sneezing. If Professor Snape never saw his son getting a cold, then that meant he did not have one.
Harry was dressing into his uniform for practise in the Gryffindor Quidditch undercroft (the boy's side) when he felt an uncomfortable return of the ache in his joints. He was there for practise, though, so he shrugged it off.
Captain Katie Bell called the team to practise, and Harry adjusted his uniform, and was about to run and join everyone when he heard a hissing that seemed to come from all around him:
Hungrrrryyyy… foooooood…
Harry paused, squeezed his eyes shut, and the odd hissing was gone like a whispered thought. Deciding not to dwell on it, he went out after his team, and before he knew it he was flying. Once, out of the corner of his eye he saw his father, the intimidating Professor of Potions and Head of Slytherin, seating himself in the teacher's box so he could keep watch. Harry felt a lovely sense of warmth in knowing that his father was there to watch him.
Harry flew like a lark through the cool air as he looked for the Snitch. A quaffle came near him and he kicked it away. Katie Bell flew over to Harry and hovered near him.
"Leave the quaffle and bludgers to the Catchers and Beaters, Harry!" she shouted with a smile. "Just look for the Snitch!"
"Gotcha!" he acknowledged, adding a salute. He then dove, and resumed his search for the Snitch… and yelped as his back twitched.
Snape coughed a few times, and was just about to take a dose of Cough Potion when his narrowed gaze caught Harry as he jerked on his broom. Quickly he glanced around but there was no one else besides him in the stands, and the Quidditch players in the air.
Harry checked his grip on his broom but then went about looking for the Snitch in the air. It flittered past him, and he did a 180 degree turn and zoomed after it. He was not aware that it was no longer cool; in fact he was starting to warm up quicker than the exertion he was exerting merited.
The sharp ache in his back twitched again right as he stretched out his arm to catch the Snitch. He yanked back his arm, arched his back, and grimaced. He wiped his brow, grit his teeth, and looked around for the Snitch. It was slightly below him so he dove for it.
Snape was very concerned when he saw his son twitch again. Using his own pair of omnioculars that he had modified with a few spells of his own he took a closer look at Harry. His brow was replete with sweat, and he kept unconsciously wiping the offending drops with his sleeve.
In the sky Harry saw the Snitch dart away from him and he flew after it. He wiped, again, at the sweat on his brow, and this time pulled at the collar of his uniform. He wondered how it had gotten so tight. Once more he wiped at the sweat on his brow, and then he blinked.
Everything had gone blurry. Harry's heart sunk into the deepest, darkest, scariest pit of worry he had. He relied on his sight, and his glasses. He blinked rapidly again, but the blurriness would not go away.
In the stands Snape was watching his son with mounting terror through the omnioculars. Harry's flying was becoming erratic, and he was blinking like a man drowning.
"HARRY!" he shouted. "He's going to fall!" Snape shouted again but no one could hear him. Severus coughed but ignored it; something was wrong! He watched as Harry's wobbly flying dipped dangerously, and then the child passed out. With his wand out he cast a spell to slow Harry's falling and right after he threw a Cushioning Spell at the ground. None of the players saw Professor Snape practically leaping from the teacher's box as he ran down to the pitch where his son would soon hit.
"Gred!" shouted George to his brother. "Harry!" He pointed at the plummeting student.
"Forge! Forces!" shouted Fred. Simultaneously the twins flew towards Harry. Both cast the same spell Professor Snape had cast to slow Harry's fall.
Harry was now drifting down rather than plummeting at a terrible velocity. Still, even with the Cushioning Spell his fall would not be impact free.
Harry hit the cushion with an exhalation of air but he did not regain consciousness. Professor Snape ran across the pitch and dropped to his knees so he could better reach his son. Moments later Fred, George, and then the rest of the Quidditch team alighted upon the pitch.
Draco and Hermione who were both watching the game from beneath the Quidditch stands ran to where Professor Snape and Harry were.
"What's wrong, Professor Snape?" asked Draco.
"What caused Harry to pass out?" added Hermione.
With a half-turn Professor Snape drew down his wand and cast, "ad quarentenam!" A frosty shield wavered over Harry and his father. "He's very sick," explained Professor Snape. He picked up his son to carry him to the castle and to the infirmary; the quarantine shield followed around them.
In the Infirmary Harry regained consciousness after Madame Pomfrey got his temperature down. He was given several potions to keep his temperature stable while the infection that had begun in his chest was cleared up.
Once Severus no longer had to worry about Harry leaving him in the worst way possible he lectured the boy on his foolishness. "You were experiencing symptoms of cold and flu this entire day but you chose to ignore your health in favour of flying."
"But I was taking Pepper-Up Potion," protested Harry tiredly.
"Pepper-Up is not a cure, Harry. It only treats symptoms to allow one to get through the day so that one can then get the rest that is needed to get well. Pepper-Up is not to sustain you so you can fly," Severus gritted. "You learned this in first year potions."
"I couldn't miss my first practise, though, dad," Harry offered as an excuse. "What if I lost the position of Seeker if I missed it?"
"And, such a loss is worth making your health suffer?" demanded his father.
"No, but…" Harry yawned as one of the medications began to make him sleepy. "Dad, I just didn't think it was that bad. I mean, Aunt Petunia used to make me go garden unless I was passing out."
Severus' lips thinned in anger at the mention of the boy's aunt. "Get some rest, Harry. Next time, though, missing a practise or even a game does not ever come at the expense of your health. Understood?"
Harry nodded as his eyes closed. He was too tired to reply. Another yawn had him drawing up the blanket to his chin. Severus stroked Harry's no longer hot but just warm cheek, and removed his glasses.
"Sleep well, Harry," sighed Severus.
"Love you, dad," Harry mumbled.
"I love you as well, my son," Severus leaned back in the chair beside Harry's bed. He had no plans to leave his side.
Professor Snape's vigil was interrupted by an unwelcome presence. "I heard Harry passed out. How is he, Severus?" asked the voice belonging to Remus Lupin.
"He is recovering, Lupin. There is no need for you to be here," Severus spoke thinly.
"I have a right…" he began.
The Potions Master rose swiftly from his chair. He grabbed Remus' elbow and forced him to walk away from Harry's bedside. "You have no rights whatsoever, Lupin."
"I was his father's best friend!" hissed Remus. "His godfather's friend."
"That does not bestow any rights over my son to you. You have already requested… no, you demanded… a visit and in the interest of sparing Harry any untoward stress I have agreed."
"When, Severus?" demanded Remus. "You keep putting me off, and I am done with it. His godfather is not doing well and he deserves to know Sirius before he passes."
Severus' grip on Remus' elbow tightened painfully as he was shoved towards the Infirmary doors. "Harry does not remember his parents, you, nor his godfather. Would you now have him attach his heart to a man who is dying?"
"I would have him know that there is someone else who loves him besides a selfish wizard, Severus," Remus yanked his elbow from Severus' grip. "Would he thank you for never telling him about Sirius until he learned it in the Daily Prophet obituaries?" Remus stepped out into the corridor. "I will be here tomorrow, Severus, and I will speak to the child about Sirius and he can decide for himself if he wishes to meet him." With that declaration Remus stormed down the corridor leaving the Potions Master behind with his frustration.
For those several minutes between himself and Remus that damnable cough tickled threateningly at his throat. He gave in to the impulse and bent in half as several, large fits of coughing threatened the spew forth a half-dozen organs with each expulsion. When it finally ended, Severus straightened, took several deep breaths, Summoned a glass, and filled it with water. He drank and sighed as the cool liquid soothed his burning throat.
Severus walked back to Harry, and sat down in his chair. Ideally, he would like it if Lupin and Black were never known to Harry. Unfortunately there was too much the chance that his son would learn of those two simply from gossip from the students. Although Minerva had done her best to keep knowledge of Sirius Black's rescue from the oblivion of Azkaban from the Daily Prophet she could not keep them silent forever. Not while madness and illness were daily bringing Black closer to the Veil.
Death was imminent for Sirius Black, and Severus could not say that he felt any regret for it. His history with Black had been a painful one that included the boy as a student nearly causing Severus' death. It was a night that had lately plagued Severus' nightmares, and that had caused a resurgence of his hatred for the man. Yet, was it purely selfishness in regards to his own past that kept him from allowing Harry to learn of Lupin and Black?
Severus slouched in the chair, glowering at the past of when he was a student at Hogwarts. He coughed but it was muted as he continued to mull over his thoughts. It was a difficult thing to admit there in the silence of the Infirmary with his son breathing as he slept obliviously that he might be thinking only of himself. He did not wish Harry to ever know about his parents, beyond what he had told Harry of the Marauders. He did not want to have to share his son with Lupin, and certainly not with Black.
His greatest worry would be Harry learning who Black was to him, and wanting to visit the ex-Marauder.
Once more that bloody cough attacked, and this time it was a hard one that felt as though it were deep in his lungs. After a few moments of trying to keep his cough to himself he removed his Cough Potion, and dosed himself.
"Severus, how long have you had that cough?" the concerned voice belonged to Madame Pomfrey. He grimaced. He knew if she had heard it the Healer would not leave it alone.
"It's nothing, Poppy," he sighed. "The dampness of the dungeons has not been kind to me this year."
She scowled in thought at him, and then pointed her wand, and cast a surface Diagnostic Spell. Her scowl turned to one of concern.
"Your cough is not precipitated by damp conditions, Severus. I would like you to see me for a complete exam."
"I am far too busy, Poppy, and no I shall not submit to an examination whilst my son is asleep," he protested.
Poppy fumed, and tucked her wand away in her sleeve. "I shall give you a week to come see me, Severus. If you do not I will speak to the Headmistress about your exam."
Severus crossed his arms, shoved down the irritating cough that threatened to interrupt, and nodded. "Fine." He watched as the Healer turned sharply, and silently moved to her office. The cough he had suppressed forced its way into a full spate of muted coughs. He pulled out his handkerchief to help muffle the noise. When they were gone, Severus glanced worriedly at his son. Harry would get better but the cough that had gone from a simple, dry irritant now gripped his lungs. He had been ignoring it for weeks but after what he had just lectured his son for: neglecting his health, he could not allow himself to do the same.
"But not now, Madame Pomfrey," he muttered as he slouched a little against his chair.
Remus stood before the hidden door on the Muggle side of London to St. Mungos that was within the dusty, cobwebby stillness of an empty store. He was still angry with that bloody bat Severus Snape. Harry had a right to know about his parents from the friends who knew James and Lily best. Harry also had the right to know he had a godfather; even though he was not doing well.
He touched the hidden door to St. Mungos with his wand, and was admitted. Sirius was on the third floor in a private room guarded by an Auror who was rather tall, even for a wizard. Auror Baker de Baker was a half-blood with curly brown hair, and straight, white teeth. He stood at nearly seven feet, and had an infectious grin that he shone upon Remus.
"Mr. Lupin," greeted Auror de Baker.
"Auror de Baker," Remus nodded. "Has the Healer been in to see Sirius today?"
The Auror nodded. "He has. Mr. Black is awake, though, so I hope you have a good visit."
"Thank you, Baker." The Auror opened the door for him, and he walked in.
Twelve years ago, the very date that James and Lily met death at the wand of Voldemort, Sirius Black's life was also ended. He had been found by Aurors in the midst of an horrific scene where twelve Muggles had been torn apart by the madness of a Dark spell. That same spell had obliterated all but the remaining index finger of wizard Peter Pettigrew.
Sirius had been arrested on the spot for the murders, and summarily thrown into Azkaban. Many had, indeed, forgotten about Sirius, and that had included Remus Lupin his only friend left from Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, and the entire Order of the Phoenix.
Once Minerva learned from Albus that Sirius was in Azkaban without benefit of trial she had done everything in her power to get him out of that cursed place. Minerva and those in the Order were now actively seeking proof that Sirius had not murdered those Muggles, and his friend, in a grief ridden rage. That proof lay in finding Peter Pettigrew whom Sirius had claimed was still alive.
Since the discovery of Pettigrew through the use of the Marauders Map that the twins had this gave what Sirius had told Remus greater certainty.
In subsequent interviews with Minerva and his friend Remus Sirius had been able to reveal that Peter had talked Sirius into making him the Potters Secret Keeper after Dumbledore had hidden them in Godric's Grove. He later discovered that it was Peter Pettigrew that had betrayed James and his wife to Voldemort.
In grief, and in rage, Sirius had gone to find Peter to confront him, and to kill him for betraying their friends. It was Peter who had cast the awful Dark spell that had caught twelve Muggles nearby, and killed them. Peter meant for Sirius to also be killed but Sirius had avoided the spell. He had been hurt but he had remained conscious long enough to see Peter cut off his own index finger, and then take his Animagus form which was a rat, and run away.
Sirius had passed out at that point, and when he woke he was already in the bowels of Azkaban.
Sirius had faced twelve years of abuse at the hands of guards and Dementors. His only respite from Dementors had been the few minutes a day he changed to his Animagus form, the Grim - a huge, black dog. His last respite from the Dementors had come one day last year when the Dementors mysteriously vanished from the ghastly prison. No one had any explanation but Sirius did not care. It was a wash of freedom for his abused mind.
When he was finally released he could barely walk on his own because the guards had taken it upon themselves to magically and physically beat and abuse him. Bones had been broken multiple times, and he had been crippled. Condition at the prison was not conducive to health and he often suffered either from extreme heat, or cold. He was not fed nutritiously and subsisted on a diet of gruel and porridge that was just barely ground up grains and mystery protein. All of this served to weaken his body to the point he was endlessly suffering various aches and chills until a pneumonia had settled into his chest that the Healers could not conquer.
Sirius was weak but he had a smile for Remus when he arrived, and they held hands for a long moment in greeting.
"How are you today, Siri?" asked Remus.
"Good, I suppose," replied the haggard wizard. "Breathing is hard today so the Healer spelled my lungs in order to help a bit. How are you, and how is Albus?"
"I'm doing well as is Albus," he replied simply. No one had told Sirius of Harry or of his adoption by Snape. The latter information just might finish him off.
"You would never guess who came by early this morning, Remi," said Sirius with a hint of the old sardonic smile he had had as a boy. Remus shook his head in question. "Snivellus."
Remus frowned. "Severus Snape was here? I don't understand, Siri. Why? Did he come to gloat?" Remus was very puzzled to say the least. He was sure he had left behind a wizard who could care less as to Sirius' eventual fate.
Sirius shook his head. "No, I don't think he was gloating. Mostly he just seemed to stare at me. He never said anything to me. He did speak to Healer Smethwyck, though."
"Do you know what about?" asked Remus. Sirius just shook his head. "I asked the Healer but he didn't tell me anything other than he wants to try a new potion by the end of the month." Sirius chuckled wryly. "As if he thinks there is any cure!"
"You shouldn't say that, Siri," admonished Remus softly. "What if they can cure you?"
Sirius coughed for a few minutes, and then lay back with exhaustion against his pillows. "Even if they could, Remi, what sort of life would I have? I can barely walk, the nightmares are awful, and sometimes… I'm… just… gone. Not an Animagus but… gone."
His hands curled tightly in the blanket over his lap. He was sure those 'blank times' were when the madness took over because his vocal chords were often abused to the point of hoarseness, his eyes were bloodshot, and for a time there were things in his room broken. Hospital staff had learned to either keep breakables out, or to reinforce with spells those that had to stay. The window had been conjured away and replaced with an Enchanted Window protected by various wards to keep it safe from Sirius' bouts of madness. The window currently showed Sirius a view of busy Hogsmeade Train Station.
To end Sirius' melancholy Remus began to reminisce about kinder days. By the end of his visit he had Sirius laughing.