Most people were under the illusion that Potions masters were never ill. Henceforth, most people were scoffed by Severus Snape. Indeed, the dark man often asked himself how the mass came to indulge itself in such absurdities.

That day, however, the Hogwarts professor had wished with all his might they were right. Ironically.

And to no avail.

His first class had been the fourth year Slytherin-Griffindor. In order to practice before starting on antidotes, he'd decided to teach them to brew anti-allergy concoctions, which varied with the allergen. Thus the students had been formally asked to bring a flower in order to work on their present task. Flagrances filled the dungeons, much to Snape's displeasure. As he strolled up and down the classroom, he eyed sordidly bunches of camellias, acacias, lilies, fuchsias, even sunflowers.

Sunflowers! Bloody sunflowers in my dungeons!

However, one posy caught his attention. Seamus Finnegan had chosen roses, still wrapped in a ludicrous plastic sheet printed with silly little hearts. Severus sniffed disapprovingly. However, his instincts flared and, without knowing why, he felt suspicion welling up.

These flowers... it has something to do with these flowers... they have been bought in a muggle shop, obviously. Perhaps a cheap one, too. Flowers... Muggle flowers... Cheap muggle flowers...

Severus gulped. He had just realized something, but it was too late. Finnegan had already added a few petals into his brew, which began to hiss menacingly.

"Get the hell out of here, the whole lot of you!" the Potions master roared, startling the students, who at once scuttled to the door, nearly stampeding one over the others. Severus turned back to the abandoned cauldron, now bubbling ominously.

Before he had time to draw out his wand, an almighty blow projected him to the wall, making him lose consciousness. The explosion left putrid fumes to be breathed in by the knocked out man.

Xxxxxxx

Minerva McGonagall sat by Severus' side at the hospital wing, studying her inert colleague. She heard the sickening wheezes he produces, irregular and low, sounding so unnatural. After hearing the students' testimonies, Poppy had concluded that incident had been provoked by Finnegan's use of muggle grown flower, cultivated with pesticides, which had induced this abnormal reaction.

Minerva sighed. She had taken fifty points from her own house after Weasly suggested Finnegan should receive the Award for Special Service to the School. The students hadn't been informed of the seriousness of Severus state yet.

The moment she had heard the loud booming noise, she had run down to the dungeons, finding the students outside and Severus missing. Miss Parkingson had wept that Professor Snape was still inside. Instantly Minerva had transfigured her handkerchief into a mask she'd used to cover her mouth and nose with, before entering the classroom, asking the children to stay back.

She had opened the door before slamming it behind her. The vapours had brought tears to her eyes. She had started looking for Severus, and there he was, against the wall, blood trickling onto his forehead. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing painfully. She had hurried to him and half-carried him to the fireplace before flooing them both to the infirmary.

She remembered Poppy auscultating him, frown deepening as she heard his awkward hiccupping noises. He was clutching his trembling chest in a heartbreaking way. Minerva had never known Severus to be ill, even though he strained himself to the point of self-abusing.

After this trauma, however, his mutilated body had finally broken down. Nothing remained from his strict demeanour but his infamous scowl. However, Minerva was sure it was no longer caused by the dunderheads he had to teach, but by agonizing pain.

The deputy headmistress looked up as Poppy entered Severus' room. Being a teacher, he was allowed personal quarters during his stay at the hospital wing. Poppy conjured a chair besides Minerva before settling down.

"I'm afraid it's what I've dreaded, Minerva", she sighed. "The man has chemical pneumonia."

Minerva blinked. She always felt uneasy when it came to muggle diseases, having grown among witches and wizards. Dragon pox and Spattergroit she knew of, but...

Poppy elaborated: "Pneumonia is a lung inflammation caused by either virus, bacteria, fungi, or, in Severus' case, a chemical toxicant. It causes difficulty in breathing, severe pain chests, and, most importantly, hypoxia." Minerva looked at her blankly. Poppy sighed.

"Hypoxia is the fact that certain regions of one's body lack the necessary amount of oxygen in order to function properly. You can notice it by the bluish tinge of his skin, see?"

Minerva gazed at Severus, who had just started a coughing fit. Indeed, his pale lips had become slightly blue. Poppy left the room only to come back with a weird muggle device.

"It's a ventilator", she explained. "It works by magic. Some healers are a little wary of muggle technology, but I find that it can be damn usefull."

She placed a transparent mask nose upon Severus and stood back to admire her work. She prodded the ventilator with her wand and a slight humming sound set off. Severus shifted slightly, adjusting to the mask. His eyes fluttered open.

He remained silent, taking in the room and mask set upon his face. He slowly turned his head towards his head towards Minerva, and with a pang she realized that, most bizarre of all, he wasn't struggling or protesting. Visibly, he was too tired to move. Hesitating, she called for Poppy, who scurried in to take the mask off. Severus inhaled a deep, rattling breath.

He first tried to sit up, but cringed and let him fall back upon his bed.

"Here, professor, let me help you up", said Poppy, lifting him against a mountain of pillows. "Do your joints ache?" she asked, turning towards him.

Severus nod. Still no snarky reply. Minerva was starting to worry. Poppy must have realized it, for she added "No need to worry, the poor man must be under a blasting headache."

Severus glowered. Minerva's lips curled up. Finally, a reaction.

However, it wasn't long before the Potions master sighed and his features became etched with exhaustion. Nonetheless, he tried to utter a few words. Both woman bent over him to catch every one of them.

"I knew... mu-muggle rose... roses..." he panted.

"We already know, professor" Poppy interrupted.

"Lungs... feel like... sc-scraped... a-against... sa-a-a-and pape-e-e-r." Severus closed his eyes, whistling oddly as he exhaled. Poppy promptly strapped the mask back onto him. His whole body relaxed. Minerva watched him nervously. He had always stood beside her head high, unflinching, and now... Now...

Determined not to shed tears, she busied herself in taking his hand into hers and patting him soothingly. Severus quirked an eyebrow, and she frowned.

"Poppy, his hands are awfully cold", she said. The mediwitch, who was gathering potions from a cabinet, looked up.

"Cold?" the healer replied. She came back at his side and muttered a few spells. Her eyes examined him thoroughly.

"Merlin, I don't detect any other illness, this makes no sense..." she muttered.

Minerva noticed the man was still in his robes. "Don't you think it's about time we took those off?" she asked Poppy. The latter shrugged.

"I guess so." She fetched a pair of black pyjamas before coming back and charming his robes off. They gasped.

Shivering and stark naked under his bed sheets, Severus was trying to warm up by rubbing himself. His protruding collarbone seemed ready to rip out of his skin, which was tightly stretched over his frame. Poppy charmed the pyjamas onto him before checking his robes. They were made of heavy, black wool, ideal to hide his oh so thin body. A true suit of armour if she'd ever seen one.

"How come nobody noticed?" the healer uttered softly. Minerva said nothing. She had always known Severus had uncommon eating habits at the very least, but this was totally unforeseen. How could have she guessed that her friend (as she would like to think of him) was anorexic?

"Aha, but then again, you had plenty of clues", nagged a small voice inside her.

Xxxxxxxx

Flashback:

"Severus, you hardly ever stay any longer than a quarter of an hour at every meal. You should at least eat more."

"Minerva, I wake up very early every morning in order to prepare for classes. I happen to snack before lunchtime, so by then, I'm not hungry anymore."

"Well, I suppose I can't blame you, but would you please stay only for the sake of... socialising?"

"I'm afraid I'm a busy man, Minerva. Now if you'd excuse me, I've got a cauldron on the fire."

" Severus, might I have a word?"

"If it's about Potter's detention, I'm only playing my part as disciplinarian in-"

"No, not that, though I'll come back to it later. You look awfully pale."

"Thank you, Minerva. I suppose spending half my life in bloody dungeons does that to you."

"Mind your language, young man. I noticed you appear more tired than usual, and the combination of those two signs make me suppose you might be anaemic."

"Minerva, would you perchance be studying my private life so as to write a paper on Potions masters of Hogwarts for the National Geographic?"

"National what?"

"National nothing. Please mind your own business hereafter. Good day to you, Minerva."

"What are all these vials, Severus?"

"Vomiting concoctions. Here's the Pepperup you came for."

"Why so many?"

"It's fairly easy to brew. I've asked my first years to prepare it."

"I don't see names on the vials."

"I grade them while they work on it in class. It's sufficient to know their ability, without having to check the potions subsequently."

"Then why keep them in stock? Did they all manage to brew satisfactory concoctions? I'm impressed."

"Indeed."

"However, now I think of it, I'm not sure this potion's part of your syllabus. Have you added it recently?"

"Goodbye, Minerva."

"Severus, it's a sunny day, why don't you take your coat off?"

"Quiet, Minerva, I'm trying to watch the match."

"As if you'd be interested in a Quidditch game that doesn't involve your precious Slytherins."

"Quiet, I said."

"For the love of Merlin, it's nice and warm and you're still clad inside your winter cloack!"

"Well, I've got to give the students a reason to call me the dungeon bat, don't I?"

"Anymore than you already do?"

"Don't push it, Minerva."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Severus..." Minerva whispered. "Why, Severus..."

Said Potions master, who had just woken up, was avoiding her gaze.

"Severus, please..." The Transfiguration teacher felt her eyes prickling. Finally Severus' peered up at her like a guilty five year old before his sadden mother. He couldn't explain how it had started, it was so frivolous, so vain...

Flashback:

Usually the amount of food provided by Hogwarts was humongous, and without parents to monitor them or proper physical activity, most students usually put on a few pounds.

Severus, however, had been brought up in a poor family where every scrap of food was hardly earned. He was by nature a light eater. From a scrawny eleven year old, after working hard on holidays and having a proper diet at school, he grew up to be an athletic looking teenager, something his school robes hid well.

And one day, those robes had fallen before a certain blond haired boy. In his hurry to use the shower, Lucius Malfoy had walked into a bare raven haired sixteen year old, dripping wet and enthralling. Severus' locks fell upon his chest and the slim muscles of his arms. He stood tall and looked straight back into Lucius' eyes, standing tall and pride. Frosty blue eyes locked with cold black ones. Lucius approached slowly, predatorily, fixing Severus with hunger. His elegant hand lifted the younger boy's chin, and to Severus' astonishment, Lucius planted a soft kiss upon his lips. Caressing softly white lean arms, he purred in Severus' ear "I've always loved slim creatures..."

But mayhem broke outside the room and Lucius, in all his Head Boy glory, marched towards the noise, hence putting an abrupt end to the moment. Severus was left alone, words resounding in his head.

I've always loved slim creatures...

Slim creatures...

Slim...

Confusion seized the teen; why would Lucius Malfoy, of all godly beings, would be interested in him? Merlin, it wasn't like he was the best-looking lad, or even good-looking at all! But apparently, Lucius thought so, for he spent what was left of his last year at Hogwarts sending discreet invitations for Severus to join him in his personal dormitory.

I find your flat stomach gorgeous...

Severus stopped snacking.

I love how your ribs stand out...

Severus ate nearly half less.

You're as light as air, it's unreal... divine...

Severus started to make himself gag.

He knew it must've been one of the stupidest thing he had done, but what could he say? He craved the lust in Lucius' eyes as he contemplated his skeletal body, how he caressed Severus skin, trailing every protruding bone with kisses, even if it meant he was now constantly cold and tired from the lack of food and fat. Lucius adored him, and he had always admired the Slytherin Head Boy from his first day at school.

One day, Lucius had asked him to come by late. When Severus pushed the door to his lover's room open, he met the blonde's hungry gaze. Closing behind him, Severus walked towards Lucius, who was panting slightly.

"You kept me waiting, Severus" he growled.

"I've got to teach you patience one way or another, haven't I?" Severus smirked.

Lucius snarled and lunched himself at Severus. Both boys fell on the stone floor, and something snapped eerily, but Lucius took no heed and imposed himself upon Severus. He reached under the brunet's pants and brushed the length he knew so well, before passionately kissing Severus.

And tasting blood.

Lucius looked down and started.

A thin trail of blood was trickling down Severus' chin, indicating a broken rib. His eyes were fogged with pleasure and pain... And probably hunger.

For the first time, Lucius looked at the object of his desire more closely. The slender muscles, or what was left of them, became evident malnutrition. Delicateness turned into fragility. What he thought was beauty was little by little destroying Severus. The latter watched him with a hint of apprehension and impatience, but Lucius let go off his manhood.

"Lucius..." Severus moaned, slightly disappointed. The other boy shook his head.

"I've got to take care of your wounds before... Severus, why did you... did you... let yourself go this way?" Lucius choked out. Severus closed his eyes in pain.

"Do you think... I'm too fat?" he whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow. Lucius was aghast.

"No! How-how could you think so!" he cried out.

"I'm sorry I'm too fat, Lucius... I swear I'll try to lose more weight... Give me just one chance... once chance..." Severus pleaded. Lucius was getting panicky. If he didn't say something soon, the situation would get out of control.

"Severus, please, I like how thin you are, but I don't want you to ruin your health for the sake of it..." he said softly, trying to hide out his despair. "I... I love you..."

Severus jumped and stared at him in shock. Lucius looked down in shame.

"Please stop it..." the older teen moaned. "Please stop starving yourself for me... I don't care if you take five more pounds, or even ten or twenty, but please... please stop..."

Severus pulled himself back together, looking tremendously hurt. His slenderness had been his gift for Lucius, and now the blond boy denied him. With great difficulty, he stood up and went for the door.

"I'm going to the hospital wing" he murmured, and without a glance for Lucius, he left, leaving his lover horror-struck.

Those were the last words he spoke to Lucius before the Malfoy heir left school to build himself an empire.

Severus spent his remaining year at Hogwarts flatly ignoring Lucius' correspondence. He learnt about his marriage with Narcissa Black by his classmates, and about his joining the Dark Lord by a close circle of students waiting for graduation before taking the Mark. Then his life went topsy-turvy.

Voldemort... His years of spying... How he had been forced into teaching in order to stay under Dumbledore's watch, for appearance's sake more than anything. He seemed to have lost every shred of control he once had on his life. The only thing left was what he did to himself.

And so his triumph over food he'd previously dedicated to Lucius became his very own prize.

If Severus wanted to starve, it would be for him and him alone.