At five am on July 31, 1996, Harry Potter woke up with the most excruciating pain he had ever experienced in his life. It was far worse than the cruciatus and that was saying something. He rolled over on his bed, hoping the pain would go away. It didn’t. Harry moaned feebly and briefly wondered what he should do. The pain felt like it was in every single cell in his body, flaming, burning. Harry didn’t think it could possibly be a Muggle illness. He would have to contact the headmaster. But how? He looked around for Hedwig before remembering that he had sent her off very early that morning with a note for Ron. He remembered the pain he had felt in his heart when he received no gifts the previous night.

Flashback

Harry sat on his bed, staring at the clock, waiting for midnight. 11:59, 12- there, he was sixteen today! He looked at the window expectantly. Sure enough, Hedwig flew in moments later with a… single piece of parchment. What…? He looked over her head at the window, expecting to see Pig or Errol, but neither owl was forthcoming. Harry pulled the parchment off his owl’s leg and read the extremely short note in disbelief.

We’ll see you soon.

R and H

That was it. Not even a “happy birthday”! Harry was hurt and angry. They must have forgotten! He scribbled out a terse note to Ron:

Thanks for nothing!

He didn’t sign the parchment but tied it to Hedwig’s leg. “Off with you now,” he told her, pushing her roughly towards the window. She looked at him indignantly but flew out the open window nonetheless.

End Flashback

Since he couldn’t send an owl for help, he would have to go to the next best source- Mrs. Figg. ‘The woman might be a squib,’ he thought, ‘but she’ll have a fireplace where I can Floo Dumbledore.’

Knowing it was still early and not wanting to wake his eccentric neighbor, Harry tried to ignore the pain. Suddenly a renewed burst of fire convinced him not to wait any longer. Quickly changing into Muggle clothes, Harry left #4 for Mrs. Figg’s house. He ran all the way and was at the older woman’s house in minutes. ‘Great!’ he thought furiously. ‘Now I have an aching pain in my side on top of this… awful pain everywhere else in my body!’

He rang Mrs. Figg’s doorbell twice- the pain was nearly unbearable. He waited two minutes before he thought he would scream in frustration. ‘She isn’t home!’ he thought, somewhat angrily. ‘What am I supposed to do now?’ He tried the knob, not really expecting it to turn. He was very surprised, therefore, when it did. He didn’t even think about how upset Mrs. Figg would be if she knew he was breaking and entering- he would apologize to her later.

He raced to the fireplace and grabbed some Floo powder. He threw it in the fireplace and said, “Hospital Wing, Hogwarts” and stepped into the emerald green flames. He instantly felt the uncomfortable sensation that was Flooing before he tumbled out into the just brightening hospital wing. The pain had lessened a tiny fraction but it was still raging through his body. It seemed to be…pulling…him down the stairs. So, without waiting for Madam Pomfrey to help him, he headed down several flights of stairs. He ran until he was in the dungeons, in front of an unfamiliar black door.

The pain that was pulsing through him distracted him so much that he didn’t even consider who lived behind this door. He knocked on the door loudly and had to wait only a moment before he heard footsteps on the other side. The door flew open and Harry launched himself inside without looking to see who had opened the door. He immediately breathed a sigh of relief- the pain had ceased!

‘Why did it stop? That is so odd…’ he thought, confused. Just then he realized that he had heard Snape sigh loudly too. ‘What…?’ he wondered briefly. “Y…you felt it too?” Harry asked questioningly.

“Yes,” the older man snapped. “What on earth did you do to me?” he asked grouchily.

Harry squeaked. “Me? I didn’t do anything to you,” he snapped indignantly. “I woke up at 5 o’clock on my birthday with this awful pain and obviously you did too. It must be some sort of new torture…” Harry’s voice trailed off, his mind thinking over the possibilities.

Snape sneered at him. “Well don’t just stand there. We need to go see the headmaster to find out what the matter is. You head on up and I will be there in a moment after I get dressed.”

Harry nodded at the other wizard and headed back out the door. He hadn’t gone ten feet before the searing pain returned. ‘What’s going on?’ he wondered. He moaned softly. The pain was intense. He moved back towards the door, thinking maybe the answer was his proximity to Snape. The pain lessened the closer he got to the door. “What on earth!” he muttered. He knocked on the door again, needing for the pain to go away again.

Shortly thereafter the door opened again, admitting a fully dressed Severus Snape. “It is obvious,” he snapped, “that you have to be…close…to me for this blasted pain to leave. So on we go then.”

Both breathed a sigh of relief as the closer proximity brought complete relief from the ravaging agony. The two wizards headed up the stairs to Dumbledore’s office. When they got to the gargoyle, Snape said the password, “Skiving snackboxes.” Harry chortled, thinking of Fred and George Weasley and their funny inventions. He remembered fondly how the two had escaped the clutches of that awful Umbridge woman last term.