Snakes And The Moon

Chapter 16

The next three days were awful for Harry. The only thing that kept him sane throughout it was Nessie who offered constant comforting words and praise to let him know he was doing well and to remind him to take his potion and eat properly.

Apart from that, he stubbornly refused to get out of bed. Not that any of his teachers had a problem with it, they all knew exactly why.

Thankfully it was over quickly and when he emerged from his dorm to head down to the Great Hall that Saturday, trying to act his best like a regular human being, Nessie decided to come along. Harry put on a massive hoodie and let her wrap herself around his torso underneath it as he tiredly headed to breakfast and held in smiles as she complimented his body warmth which she thoroughly enjoyed.

She may be cold blooded but she detests the cold. Ironic.

When he entered the Great Hall, he ignored people's curious looks, probably wondering where he's been, yet again, and sat himself down on a chair next to Hermione.

"Hi," he said softly and she smiled at him.

"Feeling better?" she asked. Harry nodded and she looked relieved. "I hate it when you get ill, your immune system is by far the worst I've ever seen."

"Sorry about that," he shrugged, grabbing a bowl of cereal. "Not much I can do, I'm afraid."

She looked like she wanted to say more but judging by his tired expression and slouched posture, she smartly decided to leave it. He can't be bothered answering questions about his sickness, not now or ever. Nobody will understand. 

When she wasn't looking, he grabbed a strip of bacon and slipped it underneath his hoodie, letting Nessie have a quick sniff before she enthusiastically scoffed it up. That girl had a very odd appetite, he'd recently come to realise.

Suddenly, Oliver Wood came up to him and cleared his throat to get his attention. "Potter?"

Harry turned to look at him. "Hey, Wood. What's up?"

"You, on a broom," he said, crossing his arms.

"Huh?"

"We're having a quick Quidditch practice after breakfast, we can't lose the Cup. We play Hufflepuff after lunch time and we're going to crush them! So, after lunch, meet us on the field. No excuses. I don't care if you're dying."

Harry let out a laugh. "You really care more about Quidditch than your fellow Housemates, don't you?"

"I care about our House's reputation and we will continue to have the best reputation if we don't screw up by losing the bloody Cup!" he said with a frown.

"Alright, chill out. I get it, I'll be there," Harry sighed.

"Good. Because we need our Seeker." Wood turned and walked off and Harry let out another defeated sigh, rubbing his still tired eyes.
"Are you sure you should be playing right now, Harry? You still look lethargic," Hermione said with worry in her voice. "I don't want you collapsing or something."

"Like I have a choice," Harry grumbled.

"There's always a choice!"

"It's Wood, Hermione. He cares more about the Cup than breathing. He'll make my life a living hell if I don't show up to practice and lose it for him," he muttered. "I'll be fine, I always am."

She hardly looked convinced but nodded anyway, knowing that he could be stubborn.

After breakfast, Harry headed back to the common room quickly with Ron and Hermione to grab his Quidditch uniform and Nimbus Two Thousand from inside his wardrobe. When they got to the tower, he was shocked to find Neville standing in there already and wringing his hands nervously.