Harry’s missed End of Seventh Year

Chapter 1

Harry shut off the hot water and stepped out of the shower. His team colleagues already seemed to have retreated to the castle, but Harry felt so miserable tonight that he didn’t care at all. Probably, the others thought he had already gone back to the Gryffindor tower, while he had tried to drown his cold in the hot water. He didn’t feel up to returning to the common room at all, since a huge party was to be expected for tonight. In the Quidditch match, which had originally been scheduled for Saturday but had been postponed to Sunday because of a storm, he had once more caught the Snitch in time, ensuring the Quidditch Cup for his House.

Very slowly, he walked up the steps to Gryffindor. He wasn’t in the mood for a party anyway as he had been suffering from a bad cold with a very sore throat and a splitting headache – and now apparently a fever as well – for several days. So far, he had tried hard to hide his cold from the others, because he wanted to play in the match today at any cost.

He had applied several Concealment Charms on himself, which prevented others from noticing his glassy eyes, the dark rings under his eyes, his feverishly flushed cheeks, or his sweat-covered white face. Nobody could hear him cough or sneeze either. ‚Now the Quidditch match is over; now you could stay in bed and rest’, a small voice in his head told him.

But that was impossible. Recently, Voldemort had been very active, and Harry, who was in his final year at Hogwarts, which was going to end in three weeks’ time, was not only predestined to finish Voldemort off, but had already signed a contract with Albus Dumbledore. From the next school year onwards, Harry would be the new Defence against the Dark Arts professor. In the meantime, he had extended his Defence club, which he had started in his fifth year, over the whole school and was teaching the students three times a week under Professor Snape’s supervision. Although the man was the Potions professor, he was very good at Defence as Harry had already noticed, and his assistance was extremely invaluable.

Harry mumbled the password and entered the common room, in which the party was already on its way. “Here, Harry!” Ron called over to him, and Harry quickly signed him that he wanted to head to the dormitory first. He tried to stride through the room in a fast pace, just like a Quidditch captain would walk after winning an important game, and entered the dormitory, where he let himself sink on his bed in exhaustion. He cleaned his nose and took a few painful gulps from the water bottle on his night table, before he searched through his clothes for his warm Weasley sweaters and pulled two of them on since he was shivering from the cold.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

When he just made up his mind to return to the common room, Hermione entered the dormitory. „Harry, what are you doing here? Don’t you want to attend the party?” she enquired softly and gave Harry, who had lain down for a moment, a surprised look. “Are you ill, Harry?”

Harry let out a slight groan and mumbled, “Yes, I think so, but please don’t tell anybody. I can’t just stay in bed. I have to teach the DA, and I have to learn for the NEWTs that are going to start next week.”

Hermione gave him an understanding look and leaned over him to feel his forehead. “Harry, you’re burning up; you have a fever!” she stated horrified. “If you don’t want to go to the hospital wing, then you should at least lie down and rest.”

“But the others would miss me on the party,” Harry countered.

“Wait a moment and let me take your temperature. I’m going to fetch a thermometer,” Hermione ordered her boyfriend and left the room only to return a few minutes later. She helped Harry sit up and questioned, “Harry, have you put Concealment Charms on yourself, or why do you look completely healthy in spite of having a fever?” she asked reproachfully.

“Yes,” Harry admitted in a small voice.

“Then take them off immediately. These Charms take a lot of energy off your body, which is already week due to the fever. You are here in your bed, and nobody is going to see you.”

Not feeling able to fight with his girlfriend, Harry grudgingly agreed. “Okay.” He pointed his wand at himself, and seconds later, Hermione saw that Harry was as white as his pillow, his cheeks were feverishly flushed, and pearls of sweat were building on his forehead. His normally beautiful green eyes looked glassy and sick. “Atchoo, atchoo, hesshoo, hesshoo, xsshoo, atchoo,” Harry sneezed before he ended up in a coughing fit. Finally, he tiredly leaned back into the pillow that Hermione had adjusted behind his back.

“Open your mouth,” Hermione ordered him and stuck the thermometer under his tongue, before she sat down next to him, so that he could lean on to her.

Harry gratefully leaned on to his girlfriend. He couldn’t remember having felt so bad ever before. But at the moment, he really didn’t have time to be sick. After an infinite time Hermione finally took the thermometer back and gasped. “Harry, you have a very high fever, 40.5! You need to be in the hospital wing!”

“Doe, Herbiobe, I just wabt to lie here; perhaps it’ll be better toborrow,” Harry replied, and Hermione noticed worriedly that his voice didn’t only seem congested but very hoarse too.

“Very well, I have fever and pain relieving medicine; I can give you some,” Hermione promised and quickly walked over to her own dormitory to fetch the medicine for Harry. “Take two at once,” she told the boy and handed him a glass of water, which he gulped down greedily. Finally, she helped Harry to lie down and gently tucked him in.

Hermione stayed the whole night at Harry’s side and helped him to sit up, stroking his back when he had a coughing fit. Only in the morning, she slept for a few hours next to her boyfriend.

HP HEALER POMFREY

When Harry woke up in the morning, he didn’t feel better at all. Not only his throat and head, but all his joints were sore, and he felt still hot and cold at the same time. He nearly jumped startled when he suddenly felt a slender, icy cool hand on his hot and sweaty forehead. “Harry, do you feel slightly better?”

“No,” Harry admitted honestly. “But I will renew the Concealment Charms and go to classes. Nobody will notice anything.”

Hermione sighed. “All right, but let us take your temperature before you get up,” she requested and helped Harry to sit up and lean on to her. “If it is worse than yesterday, I’m going to call Madam Pomfrey. Do you need to clean your nose beforehand, so that you’ll be able to breathe properly?”

Harry complied and opened his mouth, so that Hermione could stick in the thermometer. “Harry, if you want to attend classes at all costs, then skip the DA tonight. Can’t Professor Snape take over for an evening if it is so important that it can’t be cancelled once?”

“Ga glaga gu...” Harry began to talk around the thermometer, but was admonished by Hermione immediately.

“Shut up and wait the few minutes, please. Oh no, it’s still 39.7. How can you be well enough to attend classes?” she asked in concern.

“You’ll see bhed be beet in de cobbod room id half ad hour,” Harry laughed, trying to look more convincing than he felt. He was really feeling awful.

On their way to the Great Hall, Hermione watched Harry from the side. ‘He’s really adept at these Charms,’ she thought, amazed. Nobody, not even Ron, so far had noticed that Harry had a cold. Even his voice sounded completely normal. Harry however realized that it hurt to speak or even to swallow, and he regretted that he had only put one Weasley sweater under his robes and not two like the evening before. His chest hurt too, probably because of coughing so much. At the breakfast table, he played with his food for a while, and then fortunately it was already time to leave since they had a double Potions period in the morning.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

‘Potter is really adept at Concealment Charms. Nevertheless, he should be in bed,’ Severus thought, watching how the boy sneezed and coughed without anyone hearing something or even notice that he had a bad cold.

After the lesson, Harry returned to the common room after telling Ron and Hermione that he was tired and wanted to sleep instead of attending lunch. His friends had promised to wake him up in time for their Transfiguration lesson, so that Harry didn’t have to worry about being late. “Harry, don’t forget to take two more of the tablets, and please take your temperature as well,” Hermione whispered to him, before she entered the Great Hall after Ron.

Harry dragged himself up into his dormitory and scrambled into bed exhaustedly. He took two tablets, drank a glass full of water and lay down, until his friends’ voices woke him up. “Harry, how are you? Did you take your temperature?” Hermione asked sternly.

“No, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Harry replied, glad that his Charms were still working well, so that his voice sounded completely normal, although in reality he could only croak painfully.

“It matters,” Hermione contradicted, forcing the thermometer into his mouth, while she explained to Ron what was wrong with Harry. “40.3, Harry, are you sure that you want to attend classes?”

“Yes,” Harry replied, coughing, and scrambled out of his bed. He had to grab the wall for an instant, until the dizziness passed. “But I’m only going to attend Transfiguration; afterwards I’m going back to bed. I couldn’t stand History of Magic, and Binns will hardly miss me,” he explained to his friends, while he trailed behind them to the Transfiguration classroom.

Since Professor McGonagall hadn’t arrived yet, Harry put both arms on the table, resting his achy head on top of his arms, until the teacher’s voice penetrated his ear. “Although I know that Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup yesterday, you have to ensure that you get enough sleep during the night and not stay up at night and sleep during your lessons, Mr. Potter,” his Head of House stated strictly.

“Yes Professor,” Harry only replied and tried to concentrate on the lesson. Unfortunately, that was extremely difficult, and he was glad when the class was over and he could go back to his dormitory. “Hermione, Ron, can you please wake me up in time for the DA tonight?”

“Of course we’ll do that, but you should think about skipping that. You are not in a condition to keep yourself upright, let alone teach a few hundred students,” Hermione said worriedly. “You told us that your relationship to Professor Snape improved so much since it became clear that you’re going to teach at Hogwarts after the holidays. Go and talk to him; he will surely help you.”

“I’ll be all right,” Harry mumbled and entered the common room.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

Ron and Hermione returned from dinner and looked after Harry, who was still burning up but was at least sleeping peacefully. The settled in the common room and started their homework, when suddenly Minerva entered the room, coming over to them. “Where is Mr. Potter?” she asked sternly.

“He is asleep,” Hermione answered softly.

“Then please wake him up and tell him to come to the staff room immediately,” the teacher replied in an equally stern voice.

Hermione pondered for a moment if she should tell that he was ill. However, she didn’t want to anger Harry in spite of her concern and decided to shut up. “Yes of course, Professor McGonagall,” she replied and headed up to the dormitory, while Minerva left the room.

“Harry, Professor McGonagall was here and told us you should come to the staff room immediately. Shall I go and tell them that you’re ill?” she asked, when Harry opened his eyes just a little bit.

“No, I’ll go. Hermione, how often can I take your medicine?” Harry enquired, feeling absolutely horrible.

“Unfortunately only later tonight,” Hermione replied and watched her friend get up and hold on to the wall in concern. She took a few steps in his direction and carefully felt his forehead. “Harry, your fever is much too high to get up and teach the students,” she stated critically.

“I’ll manage; afterwards I’m going back to bed immediately,” Harry gave back and slowly left the dormitory to drag himself to the staff room.

Completely exhausted, he let himself sink in a free chair and tried to concentrate on Severus’ explanations about Voldemort’s plan. The following conversation didn’t penetrate his ears at all. Harry only started to listen again, when Severus said something about “the DA tonight,” and suddenly everyone was looking at him.

“Excuse me?” he asked, confused.

“Professor Snape just told us that he will lead the DA in your place tonight. What’s wrong with you today, Mr. Potter?” Minerva asked in concern.

“Perhaps you should cancel your Concealment Charms and show your Head of House how you look before I do it,” Severus suggested sternly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” Harry replied tiredly and tried to summon all his power to keep his Charms in place, when he suddenly sensed an icy hand on his forehead.

“You’re crazy, Potter,” Severus sneered, pointing his wand at Harry, who noticed how his Charms fell one after another.

The teachers gave the boy a horrified look. His cheeks were feverishly flushed; his hair was sweaty and sticking to his forehead. His green eyes were glassy and had dark rings around them. “You’re ill, Mr. Potter, and you belong into bed,” Severus stated.

“Indeed,” Minerva agreed, walking around the table to feel Harry’s forehead. “Mr. Potter, you have a high fever. Why don’t you go to the hospital wing?”

“I didb’t habe time,” Harry explained hoarsely and told the teachers something about classes, NEWTs, DA, and Quidditch.

“Come on, Mr. Potter, I’m going to take you to the hospital wing,” Minerva stated, reaching out for Harry’s hand.

“No Minerva, wait a moment,” Albus joined the conversation. “I can understand that Harry is very busy and doesn’t want to stay in the hospital wing. Could you perhaps quickly check on him, Severus, and depending on what the problem is, take him with you? He will surely need potions from you anyway, if it is too bad for a Pepper-up potion.”

“It’s dot so bad,” Harry replied annoyed and coughed a few times. “De DA...”

He interrupted himself, when Severus suddenly towered over him and pried a thermometer into his mouth. While they were waiting for the result, Severus waved his wand over Harry several times and frowned, when he put his wand away. “Apparently, he had this cold for so long that it has developed to a lung infection,” he told his colleagues, who looked at him horrified.

“41.6,” Minerva read the numbers on the thermometer. “Severus, do you want to take Harry into your guest room? I’ll watch over him, while you’ll be teaching his DA.”

“But bhy...”

“Professor Snape often nurses his colleagues back to health in his guest room,” Albus interrupted Harry.

Severus scooped the boy up into his arms and stepped into the fireplace. Three minutes later, Harry found himself in the most comfortable bed that he had ever experienced. The teacher handed him a goblet with a light blue liquid. “At the moment I can only give you a fever reducer. The potion against the infection I have to brew later on. Please try to sleep until then.” He placed a glass with water on the night table, followed by a pack of tissues and the thermometer and left the room, just when Minerva came in and sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed.

“Harry, don’t worry about the NEWTs; since you’ll be a teacher from September onwards, you can stay here in the castle during the holidays anyway, and you can take your NEWTs during the holidays,” Minerva explained softly, while she conjured a cool cloth and carefully wiped Harry’s sweaty face.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

Hermione and Ron were worriedly waiting for Harry. In the meantime, as far as they could know with the huge number of participants, everyone had arrived, but Harry was still absent. “I hope he’ll be all right,” Hermione worriedly whispered to Ron and looked at the door expectantly. “Ah, only Professor Snape,” she said disappointedly.

“Then ask him if he saw Harry. Maybe he knows something if they were in the staff room before.”

“Yes,” Hermione replied and addressed the teacher. “Excuse me, Professor, have you seen Harry?”

“Yes, I have seen him, and he won’t be able to attend tonight,” the teacher gave back angrily.

“Is he in the hospital wing?” Hermione asked in concern.

“So, you knew that he is ill?” the professor snapped.

“Um... yes,” Hermione admitted.

“That’s 100 points from Gryffindor then, Ms. Granger. Had you sent him to one of us or to Madam Pomfrey immediately, he wouldn’t have caught such a bad lung infection.”

“He has a lung infection?” Hermione asked horrified. “Can I see him?”

“I’ll inform you, when his condition improves. He is in my guest room and will stay there at least until the beginning of the holidays,” the teacher explained.

“That’s good,” Hermione sighed. “Thank you very much, Professor.”

I am not a native speaker of English. So please excuse my mistakes!

All recognizable characters belong to Mrs. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.