Nothing In This World (BEING EDITED)

XLVIII.

Chapter XLVIII: In the Pages of Our Story
Warning: Explicit language

November 30th 1995

Harry felt it more than he knew. Snape had been off for the past week and a half, and given the way he slurred his words, he knew just how sick he was. He'd never heard the man sneeze so much in his entire life, but whenever he asked, Snape would tell him that he was fine. That it was just allergies. But he knew that the stress of the wedding had most likely gotten him sick. And every time, Harry would whisper fine my ass and he dropped the conversation. But Snape couldn't ignore him now. They were sitting in the flying car on their way to Hogwarts after they had done some cake tasting. Since Hogwarts was their venue, they had a few things that needed to be discussed.

Harry was sure Severus was sick. He'd bet his short life on it. Snape was sitting in the passenger seat drifting in and out of sleep as if he was in a fever-induced dream, muttering nonsense under his breath. Instinctively, Harry's hand affectionately massaged the man's scalp. He smiled softly when Snape turned his head and opened his eyes. Glassy obsidian eyes stared over at him, and Snape sneezed again.

The Gryffindor leaned in emerald green eyes staring lovingly at his fiancé. Snape doesn't move but is muttering quietly to himself. Harry placed the back of his hand on the man's forehead and sighed. His suspension had been correct. The older wizard was not only sick, but he had what seemed to be a high fever, too.

"Did you like the white raspberry, lemon cream, crimson custard, or the yellow cake better?" Harry asked Severus. Marcus and Tom had been kind enough to hold the cake tasting at their house, but instead of taking the train, his parents had allowed him to take their car. The car was magically driving itself while Snape sat next to Harry in the passenger seat.

"They were all good, I guess," he replied. Harry frowned a bit. While Severus wasn't one to get enthusiastic about things outwardly, he usually had opinions when it came to their wedding stuff.

It made sense to Harry that Snape was indifferent about their wedding because his parents had pretty much taken over everything. The only thing that they had wanted in their wedding had been turned down. So now they were suffering through the final details of planning, and Merlin and Flamel did not want to hear what their son had to say.

Just a week ago, they had gotten into a screaming match that had been too much for Snape's body to handle and the man had fallen into a seizure so bad they had to rush him to St. Mungo's where he spent five days in and out of consciousness.

Harry chuckled when Snape leaned heavily on him. The puffs of air against his neck were hot and uncomfortable, but he didn't move, providing the Slytherin with much-needed comfort. "Which one should we get rid of?" Harry asked, thinking he could at least get rid of the lemon and crimson custard option.

"I don't k-" he didn't finish as his body shook from a particularly hard sneeze. Harry lovingly rubbed his back.

"Bless you..." Harry grabbed the handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over to Snape.

He sneezed again.

"Bless you, darling." Harry glanced in the older man's direction and saw him rubbing at his nose, which was taking on different shades of pink and red. Now that he was looking, Snape looked flushed almost feverish. He could feel him shaking slightly. After hearing his way too-wet sniffle, Harry reached his right hand over to feel his forehead again. Snape most definitely had a fever, and it seemed like it was only getting worse. "You're burning up,"