Harry came to awareness lying on his side, his head propped up on warm pillows. He didn't open his eyes immediately, cherishing the comfort. There were numerous blankets wrapped around him snugly covering him up to his neck, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to move even if he tried. It felt good not to be cold. Actually, it was a little too warm under the many blankets, but not uncomfortably so, aside from the fact that the heat made him drowsy.

When he finally opened his eyes, he immediately recognized his surroundings: old, yellowed walls, dilapidated furniture: he was in one of the living rooms at Grimmauld place.

Like so many times when he woke up these past few weeks, he found the flickering flame of a candle hovering near him.

"Trenus, you made it," croaked Harry and realizing that he could barely talk, he continued whispering. "I'm so sorry I used you to knock out Malfoy. I really am."

"It's all right," replied the candle. "The most important thing is that you survived, that Severus got there in time. Rest some more, little master."

Harry closed his eyes again, thinking that was a great idea. He still felt incredibly drained. The cut on his arm didn't hurt, and he assumed it had been healed, but wanted to check it regardless. Trying to wriggle it free, Harry realized that he couldn't get it out without unwrapping all the blankets. He gave up, thinking it was for the best. It was so nice listening to the crackling fire all bundled up and cozy.

He almost managed to drift off to sleep again, but a door slamming woke him and he could hear raised voices from another room.

"Don't try to tell me that you didn't even suspect there would be an attack! You know damn well that I've been tending to patients and working on the epidemic. Are your other sources absolutely useless?"

"Severus…"

"Forget it Alastor. Once Albus returns we will need to discuss this again. For now, everyone is safe, and Potter survived as well. Someone should let Lupin know that we are here."

"Yes…later."

Finally, it was quiet again. Harry really wanted to go back to sleep. Then he heard someone open his door slowly and come in.

"Trenus, has he woken yet?" Snape's voice asked.

"I'm awake," Harry beat Trenus to the answer, opening his eyes. "but I almost fell asleep again."

The professor was at the table, mixing something in a goblet. At hearing Harry's voice he turned around surprised. Taking the steaming cup he walked over to sit at the boy's side.

"You were unconscious when I brought you here, so I had to conjure the Hypothermia Potion directly into your stomach. But now you can drink," the potions master explained, suddenly switching to lecturing mode. "Potter…what did you think you were doing going back there, when everything was flooded?"

"I didn't want all your research to go to waste," came the hoarse reply, and Harry continued suddenly worried. "Did you find the trunk? Did it leak? I'm not very good at waterproofing charms."

Snape sighed before responding.

"Yes, I found it undamaged," he said incredulously. "You keep surprising me, Harry. You risked your life to save my results?"

Harry didn't know how to interpret the strange look Snape was giving him, but hearing the professor call him by his first name was surprise enough on its own.

"Well, yes. And to fetch Trenus."

The potions master just shook his head in consternation, before he took the cup and held it out for the boy to drink. "You should try to drink at least half of it. It will help your throat."

"Sure it's not poison?" joked Harry, but seeing Snape's grave expression his grin disappeared instantaneously.

He obediently sipped the warm liquid that tasted just like tea. It reminded him of the blend Hagrid brewed at their last visit. Focusing on the cup also gave him an excuse to avoid looking at his professor's face. He found seeing concern there a great deal more unsettling than the usual scorn. When he drank half the tea Snape removed the cup from his hands.

"While your saint Gryffindor soul was trying to save the salvageable, you managed to acquire a handsome little cold," explained the potions master snidely. "I trust you can handle staying put for a while."

Harry leaned back against the pillows in lieu of a reply.

"Did you take everyone to Saint Mungo's?" he asked remembering why Snape wasn't there yesterday in the first place, and that his friends were among the patients as well.

After the potions master set aside the cup, he appeared to give his full attention to Harry.

"Yes, we successfully transported everyone to the hospital," he replied frankly, which served to further the boy's unease. "And Hogwarts is being…well, let us say dried as we speak."

"Goo…" Harry tried to say, but his words were drowned out by coughs shaking his body.

"Perhaps it would be best if you drank the whole cup," Snape recommended holding out the drink for him. Instead of taking it, Harry leaned back closing his eyes tiredly.

"I can't drink anymore. I would rather sleep now," he whispered squirming around a bit in order to wake up his legs, which seemed to have gone to sleep without him. After a few tries he managed to find a comfortable position.

"I was about to suggest that you do so," he heard Snape's voice, and felt the weight of another blanket being pulled around him. "You suffered hypothermia and we need to stabilize your body temperature. The warming potion helped to avoid the immediate danger, and the brew you just drank should assist further. I called healer Hippocrates, and he will arrive soon to examine you."

Harry smiled opening his eyes a little.

"Oh yes, the Boy-who-lived-again," he managed to say before another coughing fit.

"Would you rather it be the Boy-who-died-of-a-bloody-cold? Because if you don't rest enough that will be high on your list of options," said Snape coolly. "I will check on you later, Potter."

"I preferred Harry," mumbled the boy. "It's okay though, I'm used to Potter."

"Go to sleep, Harry," the professor said not unkindly before softly closing the door.

Harry fell asleep with a small smile.

oO{~S~}Oo

When Harry woke again he felt really warm. Opening his eyes curiously he looked around to check whether Snape was in the room. Instead of the professor he found a messy-haired, middle-aged man sitting on the chair that was pulled up near his bed. The man smiled at him.

"Ah, finally you are awake!" he said enthusiastically proceeding to help Harry sit up.

"Could you help me get out of these blankets?" groaned Harry as he attempted to climb out of bed with little success.

"Of course."

With that the man pealed off most of the blankets leaving only the last one in place, but he pushed Harry back on the bed gently.

"This doesn't mean you are allowed to get up. In fact, I want you to stay in bed for now."

"Who are you?"

The man laughed quietly extending a hand.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Hippocrates Smethwyck," he introduced himself shaking Harry's hand. Leaning back in the chair he crossed his arms across his chest. Harry pushed up his pillow against the headboard so he could sit.

"I remember, you were Mr. Weasley's attending healer," finally he recalled where he heard the peculiar name before.

"Indeed," nodded the man, and leaning forward he patted Harry's hand in a friendly gesture. "And from now on I'm your attending healer as well."

"But I'm not even…"

"Remember, you are still sick, simply in a different way," said Hippocrates finally rising from the chair. "You had hypothermia and you nearly drowned. Lucky that Severus got there in time, without his immediate aid we would very likely not be talking now. Hypothermia is nothing to be trifled with," he waited for Harry to nod in acknowledgement before continuing. "I will be staying here at Headquarters, and with your help Severus and I can hopefully find a cure for the epidemic. I will leave you to rest. Just came by to ensure that you were on the road to recovery, now I must return to Saint Mungo's."

"But I'm not tired anymore. Why won't you let me get up?" Being ordered to remain in bed reminded Harry of being forced to stay in the infirmary with the fussing Madam Pomfrey. "I told you I was fine," he protested.

"Oh yes, Severus warned me about your temper. You need rest Harry."

With that he hurriedly left the room. Harry lay back turning on his side to sulk, at least while he could hear the healer's footsteps.

"Severus warned ma about your temper," he echoed mockingly in a sing-song voice, sitting up again. "I'm bloody not going to lie in bed when people's lives depend on me."

"I think this may be a good time to start listening to your elders," interjected Trenus, who has been a quiet observer while there was someone else to prevent Harry from doing anything stupid.

"Besides, I'm not willing to sit here uselessly, when they are working in this house," continued Harry standing up carefully. "Where is Snape?"

"Severus?" returned the candle astonished. "Well, where would you guess he was? In the lab working."

Harry walked over to his trunk to grab his favorite sweater then snapped the lid closed. Pulling on the garment he set off toward the door.

"Are you coming?"

"Why would I? So Severus can tell me off for not being able to keep you in bed?" asked Trenus miffed by Harry's blatant disregard for his advice. "No, I'm staying here, alone so I can finally sleep. And before you ask, yes, candles sleep as well!"

"Glad to hear that," retorted Harry closing the door behind him.

He didn't see anyone outside, and the house seemed unnaturally quiet. Walking down the stairs toward the basement he tried to recall which room housed the potions lab. As he painfully summoned up memories of cleaning the place a year ago, he remembered that the last door on the hallway led to a room with cauldrons and jars of potions ingredients.

He stopped for a moment trying to formulate his answer to Snape's inevitable question of why he failed to stay in bed as the healer ordered. Finally deciding that he would improvise Harry knocked on the door and walked in to the room, not waiting for an answer.

Snape stood by the table leaning over a tray of vials as he dipped a root into the one closest to him. He looked up at hearing the door open.

Harry walked up bravely to the other side of the table, undeterred by Snape's raised eyebrows.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked reproachfully as he dipped another piece of root in the next vial.

"No, I'm completely fine," replied the boy resolutely, and looking around the table he continued. "Can I help with something?"

Snape gave him a measuring look leaving his work for the moment.

"Being intimately familiar with your potions grades, I highly doubt that you can be of use here," he said snidely, then pausing he continued seriously. "Did you meet Hippocrates?"

"Yes. He was sitting by the bed when I woke up."

Harry avoided touching anything on the table, but he took a closer look at the bulky encyclopedias piled up at one corner of it.

"I assume he returned to the hospital afterwards without letting me know," grumbled Snape, then he looked over Harry again. "You seriously desire to help?"

Harry sighed resignedly. "You have told me enough times that I'm useless and stupid," he said with some fire, then pointed at the books. "But I could do research reading those. Hermione always does that, and it's damn useful and not dangerous at all."

The potions master walked around to the books.

"All right," he agreed finally picking up the whole stack. "But you must sit there in the armchair."

Harry looked back surprised. He didn't notice that while one side of the room was organized as a lab with selves full of ingredients and cauldrons, the other half resembled a reading corner of a library. In addition to the bookshelves and the reading desk, there were also two worn armchairs by a small fireplace.

Snape brought the books over there, placing them on the desk after rearranging the scattered parchments on it.

"Is something the matter?" he addressed the boy when he still didn't move from the worktable.

Harry just shook his head in response and followed Snape to the other side of the room sitting down in the armchair closer to the fire. The professor handed him a scroll of parchment and the top two books.

"You could start by marking the pages where any of the plants listed on this parchment is mentioned," he instructed placing a small paper box next to the armchair. "You will find bookmarks in here. You can write on them, but do not write in the books."

"I need to look for these in all of those books?" asked Harry incredulously indicating the list on the pasrchment. Snape's only response was a small smirk, nearly resembling a smile.

"You insisted on helping…"

It was true, and Harry had to smile at himself at this new expression of his saving-people-thing, as Hermione always called it.

Snape returned wordlessly to his work, and Harry didn't ask anything after that. He picked up the first volume and began his work with resolve.

A whole hour passed as they worked silently. Harry noticed Snape looking at him occasionally, as if the professor wanted to ask something, but he never did.

In spite of Harry's determination to complete the task, after an hour of reading in the comfort of the armchair his eyelids began to droop, and soon he fell asleep as his book slipped to the floor.

oO{~S~}Oo

"Wake up, you sleepyhead!"

Harry murmured something in response and proceeded to curl up even more, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

"Harry, wake up," then nudging continued. After a few more minutes of it he realized that the voice he was hearing sounded very familiar. Opening his eyes and looking up blearily he was greeted by a kind smile.

"Remus!" Harry exclaimed in surprise, and tossing off his covers he flew into the man's arms.

"At last! I thought you would never wake up," laughed Lupin hugging the boy. Harry let go of him to sit back in the armchair, dizzy from standing so suddenly. "Take it slowly Harry, you need to rest more."

"No, I just…"

"Yes, you do," interrupted Lupin firmly, pulling the blanket back around the boy. Harry didn't remember having a blanket when he started to read. He looked around for Snape suspiciously, and found him standing at the other end of the room by the lab table.

Lupin reached out to take a steaming mug from the desk. "I remember how annoyed you used to get when Madam Pomfrey kept you in the infirmary overnight. But recovery takes time, and you need to be patient."

Harry took the offered mug holding it with both hands. Taking a sip he looked into the cup surprised.

"I thought I would drop by and make some hot cocoa for you," explained Remus smiling.

Meanwhile Snape, levitating with him the trays of potions he had been working on, walked out of the room closing the door quietly.

At the implication that Remus would be leaving soon Harry's last ounce of happiness disappeared.

"Do you have to leave?"

"Yes," confirmed Lupin. "I must return to my work tonight. But I had to come and see you after all that's happened. According to Severus you were very unwell," he said looking at the boy closely. "Don't worry, I will try to come and visit as often as possible."

"I thought you could stay here at headquarters," said Harry quietly and he looked around the room to make sure Snape hasn't returned. "I don't want to stay here, alone with Snape."

Lupin crouched down next to the armchair to be at Harry's eye level.

"Severus is a good man, but he holds onto some old grudges. He never knew you closely and only saw your father in you, and well…James and Severus were not on good terms," Lupin tried to explain. "In the little time I spent here I noticed that his opinion of you has changed. Spending more time with him, you will realize that he is also different than the unfair professor the students know him to be."

"Yes…maybe," acknowledged Harry unwillingly.

"Well then, don't be so upset about me leaving. Severus can take care of you, as he has already proven."

"Don't remind me," grumbled Harry under his breath.

Lupin ruffled his hair smiling.

"Be good and don't exasperate your professor, he is very busy."

"Of course…take care, Remus!"

The man smiled at him once more, then walked out of the room leaving him alone. Harry finished the remaining hot chocolate and continued his work not looking up when Snape returned with several trays full of clean vials.

oO{~S~}Oo

As the days came and went the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place slowly settled into a routine.

Harry usually had breakfast alone, did literature search in the morning, took lunch alone as well, spent the afternoon continuing his research, and had dinner in the company of Snape. Healer Smethwyck came and went several times during the day, as his work required. On the other hand, Snape didn't seem to leave the lab at all, except when he took dinner with Harry.

Harry's dislike for his professor was slowly overlaid with admiration as he watched the two men labor endlessly to find a cure.

However, he found it odd that the professor diverted every question about the flood at Hogwarts. The man wasn't willing to reveal the reason for his reticence either.

All in all he found the company of the two men agreeable, and their work seemed to be productive. Harry hadn't heard of further fatal cases, not until one day he decided to go down to the kitchen in the afternoon for a little snack.

He reached the turn in the staircase when he heard the noises of a muffled conversation. He was about to clear his throat in order to call attention to his presence, but he decided to abort the action.

"It's here Severus, take a look," Harry heard Hippocrates say.

"I would rather not," responded Snape in a disconcerting voice.

Harry crouched down carefully to peek through between the posts of the railing. Snape appeared to be poring over some foreign journal, intently ignoring the scroll of parchment that Hippocrates was holding out toward him.

"I recommend you read the list," said the healer quietly.

Snape didn't bother to look up from the journal.

"It's enough if you tell me the number, I will look through the details later," he said coolly. Looking at the parchment Harry was suddenly gripped by a strange, cold dread.

"There are Hogwarts students on it," continued Smethwyck.

The potions master seemed to freeze for a moment. Finally, accompanied by a deep sigh, he accepted the parchment.

The room was eerily quiet, and Harry could hear nothing but the loud thrumming of his heart. He didn't dare believe his suspicion: the list couldn't be what he thought it was, not with someone from Hogwarts on it…

Pressing his face closer to the railing he tried to read the truth from Snape's expression.

The potions master appeared to glance over the list very swiftly, until his gaze settled at the bottom of the scroll.

When at last he lifted his eyes to Hippocrates, his face was already schooled into an expressionless mask.

"Is this confirmed?" he asked, his voice even, as he returned the scroll to the healer.

Hippocrates nodded regretfully as he rolled up the parchment and tied it.

Though Snape's face was unreadable, Harry could tell that the man was shaken. He was sure something terrible must have happened to unsettle even the stone-faced professor.

Standing up on shaky legs he forced himself to go down the stairs. It took considerable effort, because his legs weren't acting particularly cooperative.

When the bottom stair creaked under his step, both men looked up at him immediately. He saw Snape's face turning, if possible, even paler, which was a disturbing occurrence in and of its own.

Harry stopped right in front of Snape, who somehow managed to regain his color. He wondered whether Occlumency could enable one to accomplish such a thing.

The potions master closed his journal and addressed the healer, suddenly all business.

"I will certainly let you know about the conclusion, Hippocrates."

For a fraction of a moment Hippocrates stared at him not understanding, then as realization dawned he grabbed his outer robes from the hanger.

"Of course," he donned the cloak, stuffing the documents into a hidden pocket. He nodded toward Harry and abruptly walked out of the room.

"Potter, you haven't had dinner yet, have you?" asked Snape, standing up to leisurely walk toward the kitchen. But Harry was unable to move, unable to pretend that he heard nothing.

"I know, Sir, that something happened…something bad," he called after the professor quietly, which brought the man to a halt. Snape turned around slowly, looking pained as he took a deep breath before he spoke.

"I thought that you haven't witnessed the earlier exchange," ha said carefully. "How much did you hear, Harry?"

"You are calling me Harry again," commented the boy as his heart began to race with fear. "You only do that, when you are seriously worried."

Snape's face closed off completely, but his eyes were an oddly shimmering black. He walked back to Harry but didn't speak.

"Tell me, Sir! What happened?" pleaded Harry fretfully.

"I admit that I believed delaying the news will make it less painful," he said compassionately. "But I realize I can't keep such momentous information from you. Do you know whose names stood on that parchment?"

"I guess…those that died."

Snape nodded once but didn't say anything, as if he was waiting for Harry to be ready; waiting for some sort of permission to continue.

"Who was it?" said the boy so quietly that he couldn't be sure Snape would even hear it. But after a moment's hesitation the potions master reached out a hand to grab Harry's shoulder.

"Seamus Finnigan," he pronounced quietly.

"Wha…" asked Harry hoarsely as the world spun around him. Snape grabbed both his shoulders to keep him steady, as Harry tried to calm down and breathe. "No professor, that can't be! He couldn't have died."