Snape is never ill
Severus Snape never got sick. Never. Or so that was how the story went. So when Lucius Malfoy entered the dungeon to find his lover curled up in a blanket by the fire with a box of tissues looking thoroughly miserable, he was more than a little surprised.
"Sev'?" he asked, coming up behind the other man and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek. Severus shook him away.
"Get off Luc', or you'll get sick too."
"And then you can cure me." Lucius pointed out n what he thought was a display of superior knowledge.
"No I can't. "Snape shook his head, "there isn't a cure."
"What?" Lucius was shocked, "Is it deadly, are you going to die? Please, Sev, tell me you're not going to die! You have to stay alive; I would die if you died! I would -"
"Lucius," Snape said, putting his forehead in his hands, "I am not going to die, you her me?"
Lucius nodded, containing his emotion.
"All I need is a little rest, maybe a day or two off and then I'll be fine."
"What have you got though? What is so bad that you can't cure it?" Lucius was perplexed. Snape was a potions maker extraordinaire; there was hardly anything he couldn't cure.
"I believe Muggles call it the 'Common Cold'." Snape said tiredly.