Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliations with J.K. Rowling or the Harry Potter franchise.

...

"You should have woken me," A soft hiss came up behind him.

Harry turned from his position in front of the toilet to see his father in his night robe. The front was messily tied and Severus's eyes were stormy with worry.

"Face forward and put your head down."

Harry was confused by the command but obeyed.

Soon there was a damp cloth on the back of his neck. Harry relaxed slightly as the coolness seeped into his skin.

"You were quiet this afternoon and had no appetite at dinner. Why didn't you tell me you were ill?" Severus asked with an edge to his tone.

Harry almost shrugged before realizing the movement would dislodge the flannel. He heard the popping of stiff joints as his father sat beside him.

"I didn't know I was," he said in honesty. "I woke up sick an hour ago."

Harry cringed almost immediately, realizing too late what he had revealed. Surely Severus would rebuke him for not getting him when Harry had been up all this time. The teen didn't want to admit that he had been so ill he could barely make the distance between the toilet and the sink when he needed water, much less walk his father's bedroom. He felt his father's gaze intensify, but thankfully, Severus didn't say anything.

After some time had passed, Severus got up to wring out the flannel and re-wet it. Harry took the moment to change seating positions, moving carefully so his stomach wouldn't upend.

"Are you still feeling ill?" Severus asked, absently running his hand up and down Harry's back. Harry wondered if the man was aware of the parental gesture.

"I do, but less so now." Harry admitted.

Severus asked for specifics and Harry told him that he had indeed been vomiting before Severus found him. The nausea had lessened somewhat, but he felt hot and was plagued with dizziness upon movement.

Severus drew out the necessary potions from their personal stores and dosed them out to his son.

Harry was used to potions and drank them with nothing more than a small grimace. Severus often said he was the reason Severus had to get twice as many ingredients on his weekly trips to the Hogsmeade apothecary.

"Get me next time, no matter the hour," Severus instructed after he had gotten Harry back into bed. "And if you are not in the condition to do so, have Lia find me." Severus added, referring to their house elf. Harry flushed with embarrassment because his father had correctly figured out his secret from earlier.

"I will." Harry promised.

"Good."

Severus smoothed down Harry's blanket and bade Harry good night. However, it had to be 5 a.m. now if the steadily brightening sky was anything to judge by.

Harry removed his spectacles and fell asleep quickly.

...

When Harry reawakened, it was the afternoon of the next day. He couldn't believe how badly he had overslept!

With a jolt, he half stumbled half slid out of bed. He had missed his morning classes and Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were bound to be disappointed. His friends would be worried. He quickly packed his bag and had started grabbing his robes when the door opened and his father entered, eyeing him critically.

"Where do you think you're going?" Severus hissed. "Get back into bed!"

Harry winced and spun around to face Severus too quickly. Promptly, he was enveloped in a wave of dizziness that threatened to send him to his knees. Strong arms caught him around the torso, grounding him until the spell had passed. Harry sighed. Silently, Severus steered him back to his bed and forced him to lie down on the mattress.

While his dizziness had retreated enough for him to remain upright, the walls of the room were rippling as if they were sheets of paper in the wind. Harry closed his eyes for a moment.

"You have yet to answer my question." Severus said as he tinkered with Harry's potions on the night table.

Harry's eyes popped open. "I was going to classes, Sir. I've already missed two today."

"Foolish Boy! What makes you think you are in the condition to sit through lessons? What if you had a dizzy spell on the stairs, Merlin forbid? You could be lying in the hospital wing right now with a cracked skull."

Harry didn't comment because his father was right.

He didn't realize he was gripping his sheets so hard until Severus instructed him to hold out his hand and he felt the sticky sweat coating his palms.

"Sit up and drink this. It will help with the vertigo you are experiencing." Harry drank the lemon colored.

A few moments passed and he didn't feel any change. Harry groaned.

"What is it?" Severus pressed the back of his hand to his forehead.

"The room's still moving."

"I'm sorry, Son. The potion should kick in momentarily."

After another agonizing minute, the room stopped swaying and the dizziness dissipated. Severus put two more potions in front of him along with a bowl of broth. As soon as Harry finished, Severus left.

Even though his son was excused from classes, Severus didn't have the same luxury.

...

It wasn't until late evening that Harry awoke again. He had fallen asleep writing his Transfiguration essay and the parchment still on his blanket crinkled as he shifted. The curtains of his bedroom were closed and he wondered when that had happened. He sat up to collect his school things and set them aside before they toppled off the bed.

He felt sticky with the mixture of dried and fresh sweat. And his stomach was agitated like the previous night.

As soon as had put all of his homework on the night table, Severus stepped through the door with a bowl of tomato soup and oyster crackers. Harry eyed the tray warily when his father set it down on his propped up knees.

Seeing the half-written essay, Severus began to read.

Whenever Severus went into "teacher mode", it made Harry nervous. Instead he turned his attention to his soup even though eating was the last thing he wanted right now.

"Well? How is it?" Harry asked when Severus put the parchment down.

"I think you will get at least an A once you have finished it. Now stop avoiding, Harry, and eat your soup."

Harry paled, but slowly raised the spoon to his mouth. He gulped it down quickly, burning his throat on its way down. After a few spoonfuls, he dropped the spoon to the side of his tray, feeling too ill to continue.

Severus frowned, "Is the nausea back?"

"Yes," Harry croaked miserably. "I don't think I can eat anymore."

"Try."

"Severus…"

"Harry, you need nourishment or you will be unwell for longer. Three more spoonfuls."

Harry turned his eyes to the tomato soup and gulped. His mouth was watering, but not in hunger.

Harry dipped his spoon into the pool of red again.

One bite.

Another bite.

Harry swallowed three times before he went for the third spoonful. But as he did so, he jostled the bowl a little and the soup sloshed against the sides. It stained the bowl with little red lumps of tomato he hadn't noticed before. His stomach sloshed in motion with the soup and Harry knew he had seconds before he was sick.

"Severus…"

Severus snapped his eyes to Harry's own, having recognized the particular distress in the boy's tone.

Severus immediately removed the dinner tray and Harry bolted out of bed tripping over his own feet with his hand clamped around his mouth.

He was retching as soon as he stepped into the hallway and he barely made it to the toilet in time.

The vomit was rocketing up his throat and pouring through Harry's open mouth into the pristine water of the toilet. It was vile and looked ominously like blood from the soup he had just eaten. Profoundly disturbed, Harry slammed his eyes closed as another heave overtook him. Warm hands snaked around him and rubbed his back soothingly and, although his stomach was not yet empty, Harry proceeded to dry vomit.

Words were said to him, but Harry couldn't hear them over the pounding in his ears. He fumbled for the toilet handle to flush away the bloody-looking crime scene when someone did it for him. Once he heard the water go down, Harry opened his eyes. Spots danced in his vision as his eyes readjusted to the bright light of the bathroom.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he felt a fluffy fleece robe pull around his shaking shoulders. Severus's fingers grasped his biceps gently, intending to help Harry back to his room. Harry protested.

"Stop." He batted the hands away with more force than intended.

Severus frowned but did not make to grab him again.

Harry looked at him guiltily. "S-s-sorry. I still feel—"

He turned back to the toilet and dry retched a few times before he tried to speak again.

Severus stopped him.

"An apology is unnecessary. Please do not speak, Son. You'll make it worse."

Harry nodded, more than willing to acquiesce to that request.

Then came the waiting game: sitting on the floor until Harry vomited or until he felt it safe to move.

But after fifteen minutes, they were still waiting and Harry was miserable.

"Severus, can't you give me a stomach soother?" Harry moaned.

"I am afraid not, Harry. Your body needs to get rid of what's ailing it. If I gave you a potion, you might feel better, but you'd be delaying the inevitable and consequently do more harm in the long run."

Harry grimaced and held the edge of the porcelain seat between sweaty hands. A wave of nausea passed over him but, again, nothing came. He knew if he could just sick up, it would not be so torturous. Severus was rubbing his back again and Harry felt tears of frustration and misery pricking his eyes. He dimly recalled some girls in primary school sticking their fingers down their throats after lunch. He wondered if it would work with him, but he didn't dare try it with his father right there.

"An emetic, then?" Harry asked in desperation.

His father shot that idea down very quickly and lectured Harry on how dangerous they were. Unfortunately for Severus, Harry tuned him out.

"This is agony." Harry groaned. "If this goes on much longer, I think I'll pass out." His tone was joking, but Severus knew his son was serious.

"You are lightheaded?" He asked sharply.

Harry didn't answer because another wave of nausea took over him.

"Lie back." Severus instructed after a moment. He helped Harry gently into his lap.

Severus brushed away Harry's bangs and felt his forehead again. Harry stayed still for a few minutes before the urge to vomit forced him to hang his head over the toilet bowl.

Harry's eyes grew wet with tears.

"I know it hurts, Harry. But know that you're not alone. I'm here with you."

After nearly half an hour on the floor, Harry finally released the remaining stomach contents into the toilet. It started with dry heaves at first, but on the third heave, Harry finally succeeded. After ten minutes of forceful heaving, Harry sat back on his heels looking relieved and utterly spent.

"Do you feel you are finished?" Severus asked. "Do you still feel faint?"

"Yes and then no." Harry said and pushed the sweaty bangs to the side of his face, looking paler than ever.

"Back to bed then."

Severus wiped Harry's sweaty face down with a damp cloth and Harry rinsed his mouth in the sink. Severus assisted Harry back to his room and Harry changed quickly into fresh pyjamas and collapsed into bed.

"I regret being so forceful," Severus sighed after Harry drank water and more potions. "I wanted you to eat, but I didn't realize how nauseous you were."

Harry squirmed. It was unusual for the Potions Master's to apologize.

"You're forgiven, Severus." Harry said with a bit of cheek.

Severus smirked, "Go to sleep, Brat."

"Yes, Sir." Harry said, his eyes already drooping.

Right before he heard the door close, Harry was surprised to feel a light kiss planted on the crown of his head. It was out of character for the Slytherin to display outward affection. Perhaps he had imagined it?

No.

Even though it was light and swift, Harry knew deep down there was no mistaking what it was. The Gryffindor felt his face and heart warm simultaneously as the footsteps retreated and the door closed shut.