Harry used to hate getting ill, especially after Uncle Vernon died: Aunt Petunia would just chuck him in the shed; she didn’t want Dudley getting ill and besides, she said, the small, damp, drafty room was no worse than a burden and a freak deserved. So as far as Harry was concerned, it was far better to suffer through the school day; at least he was warm, dry and got something to eat at lunch.

In the hospital wing, however, it was an entirely different story: the air was spelled to a constant temperature, warm but not stifling, the beds were charmed to mould themselves into comfortable positions and, as the infirmary was a corner room, light flooded through two walls of tall, sash-windows, one overlooking the Quidditch pitch, the other the greenhouses, so there was always something to watch. And, as Madam Pomfrey believed in light, frequent, nutritious meals, Harry enjoyed such fare as cup-sized Yorkshire puddings filled with beef stew, mugs of hot tomato soup and crumpets or, his personal favourite, a bowl of yoghurt mixed with chopped banana, honey, cereal and sour cherries.

Better yet, Professor Snape stayed with him! The accident itself had been a bit of a blur; the last thing Harry really remembered was watching his Basilisk and Professor Burbage in the Staff Box. After that, it was just a jumble of images; a bird changing into his Professor, being carried in warm, strong arms, the combined scents of soap, sandalwood and potions, all surrounded by the white-hot fuzz of pain.

When Harry had woken up, however, the sky was darkening and his first thought- accompanied by a sinking of the heart- had been that he’d missed having tea with Professor Snape. (Well, his second thought, actually; the first thought had been ‘Oww: my leg is sore!’)

However, when Harry looked around, he saw, to his delight, that Professor Snape was fast asleep in the chair beside him, his hand lying on the bed, near Harry’s hand.

Feeling rather shy, Harry had edged his fingers under his Professor’s and, when he woke up again the next morning, Professor Snape was still snoring- and holding Harry’s hand. (Madam Pomfrey, who walked upon this little domestic scene a short while later, had smiled and, whilst giving Harry his potions, she confided that the Potions Master was prone to sleeping into the afternoon if he was allowed.)

After breakfast, which consisted of a large cup of coffee for Professor Snape and cranberry juice and bowl of yoghurt for Harry, the Potions Master had sat with Harry all morning, reading aloud from an obviously well-loved book called ‘My Naughty Little Sister’. Professor Snape said it had been a Christmas present from Harry’s mum, who he had known when they were both very little, and showed Harry the note inside, which read, in a pink scrawl ‘To my best freind Sev, luv Lily.’

When Blaise, Hermione, Theo and Draco arrived at the hospital wing that afternoon, Professor Snape had tactfully removed himself to the Mediwitch's office, but not before putting the precious book in a draw of Harry’s bedside table. The Potions Master's smile had told Harry that the book was Harry's to keep.

Draco entered first, with Reggie around his neck: the poor snake had been frantic with worry when Harry hadn’t returned last night but Madam Pomfrey, while thinking it best that the excitable snake remained in the dorm, had sent Galen, her spirit snake, to explain things. Unsurprisingly, Reggie was overjoyed to be reunited with his 'two-legs' and, after wrapping himself around Harry’s headboard, spent the first ten minutes hissing “I’ll be good! I will stay here and not touch your leg!’ whilst nuzzling Harry’s hair.

Hermione gave Harry a lovely bunch of roses, which she and Theo had charmed to change colour every ten minutes, Theo carried the box of sweets and Blaise had a huge card, signed by almost everyone in Slytherin.

Draco, who had dark circles around his eyes, had ranted about the lack of safety precautions for those in the stands; apparently his father, who Draco let slip, was Head of the Hogwarts Governors, had spent the best part of the night lambasting the Headmaster over not casting shield-charms to protect the observers. Mr Malfoy had also stopped by at the Serpent’s Nest to check on Draco and drop off a huge hamper of sweets, most of which the worried Slytherins had decanted into another box for Harry.

Hermione had been quite tearful: she’d been blaming herself all night for not going with the boys to the Quidditch match, thinking that she could have done something to prevent the accident. After Tracy, Daphne and Milly had done their best, Pansy had exerted her own brand of tough love and told Hermione to stop being such a silly little mare: if Harry- who everyone knew was Outstanding at Defence- hadn’t saved himself, how on earth could she have done anything?

Theo was quiet and serious and it fell to Blaise to keep everyone’s emotions in check and maintain a steady, pleasant and light-hearted conversation.

After the children had left, in a considerably more cheerful state than they had arrived, Professor Snape returned with Harry’s painkilling potion and a glass of grapefruit juice, which was good for purging away the nasty taste. The Potions Master had read to Harry for a little while longer, commenting, occasionally, that Lily had particularly liked their current chapter or when something happened in the plot which was similar to a childhood event. These little snippets of information led into a conversation about Lily; she had longed to be a bridesmaid, she couldn't decide whether peach or violet was her favourite colour, she didn’t like eating crusts- except if the bread was grainery, she enjoyed playing with paper ‘fashion’ dolls and that their first ‘proper’ magic had been to transfigure Lily’s school-pinafore into a silk copy of her favourite doll-outfit (her mother, Amanda Evans, had been so impressed that she’d taken them all for ice-cream, which Petunia had promptly spilled down Lily’s new dress. Amanda Evans had known that it was no accident and sent Petunia to bed with no supper and spent all night cleaning Lily’s dress so it was as good as new the next morning.) Harry loved hearing the stories and it felt extra special to know that his favourite Professor had been important to his Mum too.

Then, in the evening, Hagrid had come in with a box of treacle fudge and the exciting news that Hedwig was sitting on a clutch of eggs and, if all went well, Harry would soon be the proud owner of three little owlets. Apparently, during their stay in Uroborus, Xiao and Hedwig had decided that they really rather liked each other and were now mates. Harry then, quite naturally, asked how being mates had led to Hedwig laying eggs and Hagrid, blushing to the roots of his hair, suddenly realised that it was Fang’s supper time and fled, leaving the ‘birds and bees’ discussion to a somewhat bemused Professor Snape and amused Madam Pomfrey.

As Professor Snape tucked Harry up that evening, he had smiled wryly and told him that they would now absolutely have to spend their holidays together, if only for the sake of their owls; a suggestion with was received with a giggle of delighted glee.

All in all, Harry really rather enjoyed being in the hospital wing.

oOoOo

The rest of the fortnight flew by. Professor Snape, who had a dual Mastery in Potions and Healing, personally tended to Harry and, with the benefit of frequent physical therapy and Severus’ potions, the child’s recovery progressed swiftly and almost painlessly. Madam Pomfrey, who was personally interested in both Harry and Severus’s welfare, looked on in joy as her two charges recovered in body and spirit: the Potions Master needed someone to love and Harry needed someone to love him so how could she begrudge Severus the pleasure of healing the child his tears had proclaimed to be his son in all but name?

The Slytherins visited Harry frequently and in high spirits; due to Albus’s sweet-making stunt, Seraph Malfoy, Draco’s second-cousin, had been asked to take over Potions classes. According to Draco, who was ecstatic at the appointment, Lucius, his father, had been so named because, according to his Great-Aunt, calling her child after a type of angel had been tempting the devil too far. Professor Seraph Malfoy, while highly skilled and a great teacher, was wickedly naughty and seemed to particularly enjoy bating the kids who had bullied Hermione: he never actually gave them grounds to make a complaint but still did enough to be highly aggravating. Blaise was now collecting bets as to how long it would take Ron Weasley to actually explode in indignation and even the prim and proper Hermione found the mischievous man’s mind-games rather funny.

Hedwig’s eggs were progressing well, according to Hagrid, and both parents seemed devoted to their soon-to-be chicks. Harry spent many a happy hour with Professor Snape, reading a book on breeding owls and anticipating what the owlets would look like. Harry rather hoped that they’d be a mixture of colours, rather than just copies of their parents and, when he confided this to Professor Snape, he had woken up the next day to find a beautiful model of an owl on his bedside table. The previous night, the Potions Master had ordered this special tool, which was designed for Owl Breeders; if one inserted two feathers from different owls, the owl-doll would transform into the possible offspring. Professor Snape had given Harry two feathers, one from Hedwig, the other from Xiao, and he had spent much of his leisure time that day playing with the model, exclaiming happily whenever he found a particularly pretty combination. Harry was really excited over the prospect of owlets: Professor Snape had said that they were Harry’s and, when Harry had demurred, the Potions Master had kindly told him that, having no friends who needed an owl, he had no use for them. Harry immediately decided that they should go to Hermione and Nev: every First Year in Slytherin had an owl, save Hermione, and, as Nev, had braved the Gryffs’ displeasure by visiting the Hospital Wing, he was a deserving recipient. Harry really hoped that they’d get the pretty light grey with wise golden eyes, which would be great for Hermione, and the one with smudgy black and grey plumage and friendly brown eyes, which he wanted to give Nev. (Severus said, however, that this had to be a great secret until the owlets were old enough to be given away.)

Of course, it wasn’t a total holiday; Professor Snape tutored Harry so that he kept up academically with his year mates and could hand in homework when it was due. However, this was scarcely a chore; the one to one tuition meant that Harry generally learnt more in twenty minutes than his friends acheived in an hour and, as some practical work was impossible to carry out in the hospital wing, for example, Potions, Harry often had most of the afternoon free. None of his friends envied him, however; Draco was apparently still having nightmares over Harry’s wound and even the urbane Blaise, who was very good at acting, got a lump in his throat when he once caught sight of the scar on Harry's leg.

However, by the second week, Harry’s leg was almost as good as new; he could walk, run and even hop if he chose, though Professor Snape winced when Harry tried that so he didn’t do it again. Reluctantly, the Potions Master deemed him fit for school and Harry, although feeling rather sad at the thought of seeing Professor Snape only in lessons and on Saturday afternoons, was able to be stoic as the Christmas Holidays, which he and Professor Snape were to spend at Malfoy Manor, were only two weeks away.