The Headmaster's Only Mistake

Mortem

A/N: okay, I know I don't post on fridays, but I'm going to be out of town for the next two saturdays and I'm not taking my laptop, so I won't be able to update tomorrow or next saturday. Instead of just not posting twice, I'm uploading this chapter today, but I won't upload next saturday. Sorry for the inconvenience!

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Rafael smirked. Whatever he was going to say was cut off by Professor Snape's shrill whistle and everybody kicked off the ground.

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They won the game.

It wasn't a surprise really, considering how good of a seeker Harry was. Or maybe it was, as Harry had looked ready to hurl or pass out at any given moment. His palms had felt clammy and his fingers shaky as they had curled around the snitch.

The second he had touched the ground, he had been carried off by his teammates. They hadn't even stopped to hear the deafening cheers of the crowd or at the changing rooms to relieve themselves from their sweaty clothing. They had just trooped through the castle, the rest of their house following behind them excitedly.

There had been no party to celebrate their win.

Instead, the Slytherins had found Harry the most comfortable armchair and laid him down, changing him into more comfortable clothes with a quick spell. A few upper years rushed out of the room for medicine, cups of water, bland foods, and anything they thought could help their prince.

Harry just lay helplessly on the couch, groaning from time to time and mumbling a soft, " 'm fine."

He was obviously and most definitely not fine.

After a good fifteen minutes, Draco, who had pushed his way through the crowd, managed to convince the rest of Slytherin that this was completely normal and that Harry would cure himself as long as they let him sleep.

Harry was immediately carted off to bed.

From behind the locked door, he could hear Rhysand ordering the rest of Slytherin to stay clear of the room until Harry was feeling better, but Harry missed the end of whatever he was saying as his eyes started to close.

The tiredness he had been feeling weighing him down for the past few days washed over him and took hold of his consciousness. His headache started to simmer down as his quiet snores filled the room.

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When Harry woke up hours later, he felt as if a freight train had run him over. On the other hand, the immense weight on his chest had disappeared.

Harry groaned as he opened his eyes and surveyed the room. He did a double take when he saw a figure at the foot of his bed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mortem demanded when he realized Harry had seen him. Harry furrowed his eyebrows and made a confused noise. "Why didn't you tell me you were so sick? I could've visited or something! This was exactly what I didn't want. You love this place so much, and now, because of me, you're sick and tired anyways."

"I-it's not your fault," Harry assured, placing a hand on top of Mortem's. Instantly, he could feel their bond magic seeping through their touch and refueling him. "I didn't want to bother you, because you were so busy with the new level's construction and I thought I could handle it on my own." Harry looked downwards.

"Haz..." Mortem said sadly. Said boy felt soft fingers trace his jaw, pulling up his chin and making him look into the god's eyes.

"Darling, you're my priority. If anything were to happen to you because of me... I don't know what I'd do to myself. It doesn't matter if I'm busy or not, if you need me, don't hesitate to tell me. I love you so much and I've been neglecting you over something insignificant that could easily be left in the hands of someone else."