Child of Hogwarts: Part I

Chapter Six - An Unexpected Complication

CHAPTER SIX

An Unexpected Complication

Many hours later, Severus Snape was sitting in the headmaster's study, perusing a pile of notes he'd made over the past week on his Wolfsbane project. He was trying to create a variant of the potion which would improve on the original formulation. So far he hadn't managed to find a way to combat the side effects of the brew, but he did think he may have discovered a method of preparation for the armadillo bile which would mean the user need only drink the potion in the week preceding the full moon, rather than every day. He knew he ought to turn in as the clock crept well past midnight, but Severus wanted to record his thoughts before the theory escaped him. Bending over the stack of parchment, be began to cross out a few lines and make revision. In the middle of his work, a piercing scream made him jump, accidentally puncturing the parchment with the point of his quill as he started.

What on earth? he thought to himself, staring toward the winding staircase that led to the headmaster's chambers. Another strangled scream rent the night, and Severus leapt to his feet, wand out and parchment set aside. Potter.

Severus had not seen the boy since supper. He'd already gone up to bed by the time Severus had returned to the headmaster's study. He hadn't even perused the boy's latest attempt at his Potions essay, finding the task much less enjoyable when Potter wasn't awake to antagonise.

Severus made quickly for the staircase and strode down the little corridor to the boy's room. The screaming had stopped, but he could hear ragged breathing beyond the door. He pushed it open. Potter was sitting up in bed, wiping at his face and sniffling a bit. Severus looked around the room, but saw nothing that might have caused such a reaction in the child.

'What on earth are you doing up here, Potter?' he asked in anger, crossing his arms and pocketing the wand. The child turned a bit to look up at him, then immediately directed his gaze to his bedspread.

'Sorry, professor,' he mumbled thickly. 'Nightmare.'

Severus raised an incredulous eyebrow. Night Terror, is more like, he thought. He was not entirely unsympathetic. After all, the things he'd seen and done in the past 15 years were enough to wrench him screaming from sleep at times as well... but he was 20 years Potter's senior, and had lived through a war. No eleven-year-old should have such horrors in their memory.

But then, he thought, wryly, Potter is not a normal eleven-year-old.

He considered the boy in silence while collecting his thoughts, then nodded brusquely. 'Do you require a potion to get back to sleep?' he asked, surprising himself with his own solicitousness. Potter glanced up, looking a little shocked himself, but shook his head quickly, still clearing the evidence of tear tracks from his cheeks.

When he looked closer at the boy now, however, Severus noticed that he wasn't only crying, but shivering slightly. Unnerved, Severus brightened the candle on the night table with a flick of his hand and approached cautiously, his eyes narrowed. There were beads of sweat on Potter's face, and he squinted and cowered slightly in the suddenly bright candlelight. He looked unmistakably fevered.

Oh... just perfect, Snape thought to himself in exasperation. Reluctantly, he reached out a hand and rested his palm on the boy's clammy forehead. Potter flinched back immediately at the touch.

'Keep still, Potter,' Severus growled, attempting to feel his forehead again.

The boy swallowed nervously, but did not move as Severus leaned over him once more. The Potions master swore inwardly as he felt the heat pulsing under his hand. Potter was burning up.