Chapter 6

As he woke, Harry thought he was going to be sick. His head was pounding and he was shaking so badly, he could barely get his glasses on without poking himself in the eye. It was early; he still had his old sleeping habits of getting up at the crack of dawn. He lay down, struggling to calm the tremors running through his limbs. He wondered what could have brought it on. He didn't feel like he had flu, which was nothing like this, besides he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had that. The last time he had had symptoms like this was…

Shit

Second year he had taken two substances that reacted badly with each other.

What potions had Snape give him? A mental booster and something else, he'd been given two potions. He couldn't very well ask the Potion Master, especially in this state, what was he going to do? Harry thought on it, if his other experience was something to go by, he was going to get much worse. He shifted, trying to think of a plan.

What he needed something to take the potions from his system. The only place he could get that was Madam Pomfrey or Snape. How could he get them? Stealing them himself wasn't an option, he'd be caught easily. He couldn't ask anyone in Gryffidor or the other houses. There had to be another way.

As he lay, he became aware of quiet shuffling noises near the fireplace. He listened carefully, some one was moving around the room.

Probably a house elf he thought. He needed a plan…

Wait! A house elf, he could think of one in particular, would be able to do the job he couldn't. He stuck his out of his bed hangings only to find the elf he wanted about to leave.

'Wait' he called. The elf turned expectantly.

'Sorry, but you think you could get Dobby for me? He works in the kitchens, I think.'

'Yes, of course, young sir, whose must I says wants him sir?'

'Harry Potter'

'Course sir, hold on a minute.' The elf squeaked and he disappeared with a quiet pop. While he waited, Harry ran through the previous evening's events, he couldn't quite remember the last bit, only the desperate feeling when Snape reached deeper into to his mind. Had the professor seen anything? No, he didn't think so. With a POP rather louder than the other elf's, his thoughts were interrupted. Dobby appeared, looking around excitedly.

'Over here Dobby.' Harry beckoned.

'Yes Harry Potter, Jally is saying you's needing me.' His face fall slightly as he saw Harry's sick form on the bed, 'You is unwell Harry Potter, what is wrong?'

'I need your help Dobby, to make me better, will you help me?'

'Of course Harry Potter sir, if I's can.'

'You remember in fourth year when you stole some Gillyweed from Snape?' He received a nod from the elf. ' I need you to get me some medicine from the infirmary.'

'What sort?' Said a slightly less sure elf.

Harry went on to explain, telling the magical creature what to do and which substance was needed. Dobby left the same way he came. Awhile later he returned, Harry had been worrying as the time lengthened, he really couldn't let other people see him like this. But he also felt guilty, he was exploiting Dobby and he knew it.

'Here we's are Harry Potter sir's.' He squeaked handing over the small container.

'Everything go all right then? No one at the infirmary saw you?'

'Well, umm'

'What happened Dobby?' Harry was now alarmed.

'Well Harry Potter, there was none at the infirmary sir, so I got's it from the Potions Master's cupboard.'

'No one saw you?' Harry was inwardly hitting himself.

'No sir.'

'Right, thanks Dobby, maybe we can come round to the kitchens and visit this week end.' The elf's face split into a huge grin and he bobbed his head enthusiastically. With one last POP the elf left. Harry sighed, if Snape found out, he didn't know what the man would do to him, he had been so mad about the Gillyweed in fourth year. And making Snape angry was definitely not on top of his to-do list.

He quickly made his way to the bathroom, holding onto the wall for support as he went. Closing the cubicle door he downed half the liquid, unsure as to how strong it was. He would stay there for at least twenty minutes in case it had some sort of reaction,

He sat on the floor to wait.

Severus was in a bad mood, he had walked into his office that morning to find his personal stores cupboard had been raided, one rather valuable potion lying on in a puddle in the floor. He was used to the occasional student breaking into the store cupboards for ingredients for potion that they probably shouldn't be making, but not his office. His day went down from there.

He stalked along the corridors, scaring a few first years, his mood didn't improve as he thought of what was going to happen on the week-end. A mass death-eater meeting was not exactly something to look forward to. He wondered what it was about, Draco and Lucius had seemed excited and more malicious than usual about it than normal. Could it be an initiation? He sincerely hoped if it was that is was not not a Hogwarts student. Having death-eaters at Hogwarts would put him in a very dangerous position.

He had his last class of the day with the 6th years, meaning Potter and Draco. He sighed inwardly, who ever had come up the most brilliantly stupid idea of putting the two houses together ought to be hung. The lesson went on as usual, Potter starting at loud noises and trying very hard not to get the Potion Masters attention. The child therefore concentrated solely on his cauldron, only looking up now and again to check where he was. Snape didn't disturb him, keeping away, it didn't do him any good if Potter failed.

By the end of the lesson Snape was feeling just as restless as the students, he was just better at not showing it. The bell rang and dismissing the class, he quickly went to his office, grabbed an already packed bag of potions and clothes (he shrunk them to fit in his robe pocket.), he began the longish walk to Hogsmeade.

He had a meeting to attend.