The Corpse That Lived.

Chapter 4

As if it couldn't get worse for Dahlia, she was sick. It was to be expected as she was nearly frozen to death. She was a bit sweaty now and Sirius reached out a palm to check her temperature, she drew in a wheezing gasp and began to cough.

Almost instantly, Sirius regretted not taking her to St. Mungo's, or even a muggle hospital. Her cough sounded terrible, and beads of sweat were forming on her pale forehead. "Shh, it's all right," he tried to soothe, but Dahlia was growing distressed in her illness and didn't want to be calmed. "Kreacher, bring the Pepper-Up!" he called for the house-elf.

"As Master Black wishes," Kreacher bowed when he popped into the room with another vial of the stuff. Dahlia didn't even react to the appearance of the strange beast, and though it was a relief he didn't have to explain house-elves, he took it as a bad sign that Dahlia hadn't even noticed.

"All right, Kid. You need to drink this," he explained. "You'll feel better when you do." He held it up to Dahlia's lips, but she fought him and pursed her lips, refusing to allow even a drop of it into her mouth. Thank god, she was just incoherent and weak enough not to run away in terror, but the instinct for self-preservation was ridiculously strong. "It's all right," Sirius attempted to soothe. "I won't hurt you."

But Dahlia was stronger than she looked, even in her current condition. She flailed desperately against her supposed 'captor', nearly causing Sirius to lose his grasp on the small vial.

"You need this, Kid," he tried to explain. "It's medicine. You're ill, and you need to drink."

"No!" Dahlia cried and continued her fight. "No, I won't!"

She was going to exhaust himself at any moment, so Sirius backed away and allowed Dahlia to catch her breath. He was wheezing terribly and needed the potions, but it would do no good to push her to collapse. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you," Sirius murmured after Dahlia had a chance to calm herself. "I'll take a sip, see?" he asked, taking a tiny gulp of the potion to prove it wasn't harmful. "You need it to feel better."

Dahlia did not look anymore convinced, so in one swift motion, Sirius moved to her side, prised open her jaw, and poured the vial down his throat. Dahlia didn't have time to fight, but there were suddenly tears in her eyes when her ears began to smoke. Normally it was a comical thing to watch, but as Dahlia was so sick and confused and not at all accustomed to the whimsical side effect of the potion, it was quite painful. He had to. Sirius wasn't going to let a child die on his watch. Especially not if this child could be Dahlia.

"It's all right, it's all right," Sirius promised her. "It's normal. You'll feel better soon."

But Dahlia continued to cough and cry until there was nothing Sirius could do for her except rub her back and her chest to help clear her lungs and soothe her. She at least didn't shy away from Sirius's touch this time, but perhaps seeing how he could overpower her was incentive enough to stay out, afraid what Sirius might do to her.

"You're safe here," he vowed, hoping that would ease a few of Dahlia's concerns. "You're safe. Nothing can happen. I'll protect you,"

Dahlia coughed again, her eyes bright with fever and pain. For the first time, Sirius understood Lily's panic the first time Dahlia had been ill as a baby, or the time Hyacinth had come down with dragon pox and cried inconsolably for a week straight.

"Can you try to sleep some more?" Sirius asked when the girl finally began to calm a little. The coughing spells eased up, but he was still congested and feverish.

It looked like she attempting to glare at him before giving up and closing her eyes.

"Shh. You've nothing to worry about. Just rest," he insisted, helping lay back down and cancelling the warming charms that would undoubtedly worsen herfever.