"He should have been back by now," Poppy said, setting her book aside and rising to open the front door. She peered up and down the narrow, littered street, hoping to see him walking toward her, but the steady downpour was obscuring everything. A gust of wind rattled the door in its frame and she shivered and closed it tightly behind her.

"I thought he would be back the moment it started raining," Minerva said, glancing up briefly from her needlework. Poppy paced the room restlessly, stopping only to watch Minerva's progress on a intricately embroidered scene of a manor house set against rolling green fields.

"You're still working on that?" Poppy asked, in some exasperation. "It would go much faster if you used your wand."

"Mm-hm," Minerva agreed, as she worked grey thread in a satin stitch along the edge of a watchtower. "And you could make your lemon shortbread more quickly using your wand."

"Puttering in the kitchen relaxes me."

Minerva glanced at Poppy over her spectacles, eyebrows raised, expression bland.

"Point taken."

Poppy sank into her seat again, drumming her fingers nervously on the arm of the chair for a moment before leaping to her feet again.

"Perhaps Severus is holed up somewhere waiting for the weather to clear," Minerva suggested. "Don't fret so. He can take care of himself."

"Yes, he can," Poppy said. "But he shouldn't have to right now."

"Leave him be," Minerva said, neatly cutting a thread. "He seemed much more like himself this morning. Not cheerful, exactly, but not as on edge as he has been."

"That's only because I let him shout at me the other night," Poppy said with a wry smile. "He'd been on his best behavior for days."

"A walk will do him good, then."

"A walk, yes," Poppy agreed. "A thorough drenching, however..."

Poppy shrugged and left the rest of her thought unspoken. She couldn't stop herself from opening the door and looking out again. The rain still poured down in sheets, turning the makeshift sidewalk into a rushing, muddy torrent. She closed the door and turned toward the coat rack. Minerva watched quietly as Poppy put on her heavy wool cardigan and buttoned it all the way up to her throat.

"You're going after him?" she asked, setting her needlework frame aside. "How do you know where he's gone?"

"I don't know for certain," Poppy said, pulling on her traveling cloak over the cardigan. "But I have a very good idea."

Minerva joined her at the door, her expression grim as she surveyed the weather. "Shall I go with you?"

"Best to stay here, I think," Poppy said. "You have no business out in this mess while you're still recovering and in a weakened state. You could end up catching cold..." She tucked her wand into an inside pocket of her cloak. "...or worse."

"Blast it, Poppy," Minerva said. "Now you have me worried. Severus shouldn't be out in this horrid weather, either. Do you think he's...?"

"I'll take care of him," Poppy said calmly.

---

Approaching the gated cemetery, Poppy could just make out a figure slumped on a concrete bench. The weather was no better here with the rain blowing nearly horizontal, stinging her skin and blurring her vision.

"Oh, Severus," she breathed, knowing at once that it was him. "How did I know I'd find you here?"

As she neared, Poppy saw that rather than sitting in a pose of rest, his hands were gripping the edge of the bench tightly. She hurried over and knelt in front of him. The damp soon soaked through her long skirt, but she took little notice of her own discomfort. Severus sat huddled miserably, rain dripping from the ends of his sodden hair and streaming down his face and neck. He shivered continually, his light clothing not enough protection against the chill, biting wind that whipped through the church yard.

She laid a hand gently on his cheek. No fever. He was just exhausted and chilled straight through. He opened his eyes, looking at her with no recognition. She took his cold hands in hers, rubbing them briskly. He stared at their entwined hands for a moment and then glanced up at her again.

"P..Poppy," he said, teeth clenched against the hard shudders racking him.

"Yes, child, it's me." she said. He always bristled when she let that word slip, but many times she couldn't help herself. Where others saw an intimidating, imposing and powerful wizard, she still saw a nervous, uncertain and neglected eleven-year-old.

He slumped, letting his head drop forward. "I'm so cold," he mumbled.

Poppy stood and whipped off her cloak. It was much too small for him but would provide some warmth until she could get him back to the house.

"Why didn't you go into the church when it started raining?" she asked, draping it over him.

"Evensong," he said, grasping at the edges of the cloak and pulling them as tight as possible. "The church was full and I wasn't sure...I didn't know if I should be around others."

"Then you should have come back straightaway," Poppy said.

"I tried to make it back," he said, sounding breathless. "But every time I'd try...." His words were cut short as he began to cough; a deep, hacking, relentless cough that shook his thin frame.

Poppy winced at the sound, feeling her own chest constrict in sympathy. Fortunately, the fit seemed to pass as quickly as it came, but the effort it cost him was obvious as he struggled to catch his breath, his face mottled.

"I couldn't...make it back...on my own," he said miserably, still breathless.

"Don't try to speak," Poppy said gently, sitting down next to him. She withdrew a small phial from the pocket of her cloak, uncapped it and held it out for him. "Drink this when you're able."

It was a certain sign that he was feeling ill when he accepted the phial and downed it without question.

"Good lad." She patted him on the knee, encouraged when he scowled slightly at her. "I expect that will make you sleepy," she said, "So we need to get you back home and into some dry clothing. Can you stand?"

He nodded but when he tried to rise, he fell back heavily to the bench with a frustrated groan.

"Don't worry, Severus," she said, reaching out for him. "Lean on me and I'll help you." He gripped her hands tightly as he stood, nearly upsetting her as he straightened. When he wavered on his feet, Poppy put her arms around him to steady him.

She barely came up to his chest, but he leaned against her for support, dropping his head to her shoulder. Without thought, she smoothed the damp hair from his face. His arms hung limply at his sides and he trembled and shuddered against her. She swallowed hard against a sudden lump in her throat.

"I'm so tired, Poppy," he said in a weak voice. "So tired. Will I ever feel better?"

"You will," she said. "Of course you will. I'll do everything I can to make you more comfortable." She stepped back so he was forced to raise his head and meet her eyes. "But that means you must do your part. You need to start taking better care of yourself. You must rest and not exert yourself. No more trips here until you're much stronger. Lily would understand."

He turned his head from her, his face coloring, whether from guilt or anger or embarrassment, Poppy couldn't tell.

"You're going to eat when I ask you to and sleep when I ask you to, and get your strength back. It may take some time, but you will start feeling better, I promise."

He nodded, swiping at his face with an already-damp sleeve. Poppy pulled a handkerchief from her cardigan pocket and watched as he scrubbed at his eyes and nose. "Take my arm," she said when he had composed himself. "We're going to side-along back to the house. Minerva is waiting for us, and I baked a fresh batch of shortbread just this afternoon."

He offered no resistance and meekly put his arm through hers. "That's it. We'll get you dried off and warmed up and you'll be feeling like yourself in no time." She kept up a constant, cheerful patter even as they turned in unison and church grounds dissolved from their vision.

---

The rain had let up when they appeared in the side yard, but the effort of a side-along had cost Severus his remaining strength and he went to one knee in the muddy patch of ground where they landed. Poppy nearly went down with him, but managed to grab him firmly around the shoulders, planting her feet to steady herself.

"It's not much farther, Severus," she said encouragingly, trying to coax him to his feet. "We're almost there."

"Give me a moment," he said, and then, despite the potion he had just taken, bent forward with the force of another harsh coughing fit. Poppy stood over him protectively, one hand on the back of his neck.

Minerva rushed from the house, her eyes wide. "Oh, my goodness. What a pair you are. Absolutely covered with mud." She grasped Severus firmly under one arm and Poppy took the other and together they hauled him to his feet. "Inside where it's warm," she said briskly, guiding them towards the front door. "You look like drowned rats, the both of you."

Poppy was shivering nearly as hard as Severus when they reached the sitting room and Minerva fixed her with a stern look. "Upstairs and change clothes."

He had collapsed into a chair, water pooling at his feet, unable to control the shudders coursing through his body. "I want to see to Severus first," Poppy said deftly drying his clothing and his hair and removing the worst of the caked mud.

"Leave me alone," he mumbled, sleepily trying to brush off her attentions. "I'm fine."

He struggled to rise from the chair but all it took was a gentle touch on his shoulder and he fell back again. "What did we just discuss?" she asked, helping him prop his feet up and covering him with a blanket. "You are most certainly not fine. As a matter of fact, you'll be fortunate if you don't get pneumonia when all is said and done." He watched with dull eyes as Poppy fluffed a pillow and tucked it behind him. "You're going to sit right there and warm up and not move until I give you express permission."

"Bring some tea, will you?" Poppy said to Minerva who was standing nearby.

"I will bring you both some tea," Minerva said, giving Poppy a none-too-gentle push toward the stairs. "While you get into some dry clothing."

A few minutes later, Poppy entered the kitchen, toweling off her hair, just as Minerva was pouring out three steaming servings of tea.

"Where was he?" Minerva asked in a low tone, indicating Severus with a tilt of her head.

"It was just as I thought," Poppy said, accepting the cup from Minerva. "He was visiting an old friend."

"Outside? In the rain?" And then she fell silent, recognition dawning slowly on her face. "You don't mean...?"

Poppy took a grateful swallow of the strong tea, sighing as she felt the warmth course through her. "He visits at least once a week," she said. "Got caught out by the weather this time, and didn't want to enter the church when it was full."

"Oh, dear." Minerva stood silently for a moment, looking towards the sitting room. When she turned back to Poppy her face looked stricken. "And does he know...?"

"He must realize that the time is near," Poppy said quietly. "But I asked Albus to put off notifying him for a few weeks, until he's stronger."

"I hope..." Minerva began and then she trailed off, crossing her arms tightly as if to ward off a chill. "I hope he's not alone when he finds out."

"We'll see to it," Poppy said, her voice determined. "He won't be alone, not if I can help it."