Chapter Text
Snape walked around his student's desks looking into their cauldrons and making comments on their work. It was a simple potion, but he didn't have high hopes on many of his students getting more than an acceptable. Mr. Malfoy and Granger aside; most students put very little effort into potions, because they weren't as flashy as some of the other magic that they were learning. The class was mostly silent. The only sounds coming from the preparation of ingredients and the quiet bubbling from the cauldrons. Gryffindor/Slytherin classes were his least favorite to teach and this one in particular, because it contained 'the-boy-who-lived' to annoy him. The boy was currently bent low over his desk working. His movements were slow and sloppy; which only infuriated the Potions Master more. Deep down he knew that his hatred of the boy was uncalled for, but he couldn't help how he felt.
He moved silently towards the Gryffindor tables and enjoyed the minute tensing of shoulders as he glared down his crooked nose at their feeble attempts. As he suspected, only Granger's potion looked as it should at this stage. Weasley's was an utter disaster; he suspected that he was on the outs with the Granger girl again as she wasn't even attempting to help him. Instead she kept shooting furtive glances at Potter, her brow furrowed. When Snape looked into his cauldron, he was a little surprised at how well his solution seemed to be coming along; but at the pace he was going, he'd never finish before the end of class. "Potter, If you plan to have anything to turn in at the end of class, you're going to have to pick up your pace.", he barked. The boy didn't look up and continued to slowly dice. "Potter.", he growled again, unused to being ignored. Granger nudged him and when he turned to look at her, she pointedly nodded up at Severus.
The boy's movements were sluggish as he slowly turned his head towards Snape and looked up into his eyes. The first thing Snape noticed was the glassy unfocused sheen of the boy's eyes behind his glasses. He sighed at the sheer foolishness of the boy, for coming to class sick. His face was flushed with fever and his hands trembling slightly. Explaining why he wasn't further along in his potion. "Go to infirmary Potter; you're obviously unwell. Miss Granger can escort you." Potter was looking at his hands and didn't move. "Leave! Granger, take Mr. Potter to the infirmary now!" The boy finally deigned to move. Glassy unfocused eyes looked back up at him before the boy toppled from his stool in an undignified move to do as he was ordered. In the next instant his face was pressed into Snape's chest as he slumped against him. Slim arms wrapped around his waist to keep himself from sliding to the floor.
Where before the rest of the class had been badly hiding their curiosity at the exchange with furtive glances, they were now openly staring. No student had ever before even dared to dare touch Snape for fear of retaliation. The dark wizard was not known for his care and was known for his acerbic nature. Granger looked unsure if she should be prying her friend off of him to do as he'd bid or letting him do so. "Everyone back to work! You have fifteen minutes to complete your potions and turn them in at my desk. Your homework assignment is on the board. Granger. Malfoy. You're in charge!", he snapped. The class quickly got back to work. Granger retaking her seat as Snape scooped Potter up and stormed out of his classroom.
The trip to the infirmary was uneventful, as most students were either in class or in the library if they were upper years. Snape strode with purpose, his robes billowing behind him. He meant to deposit Potter on one of the beds and leave the boy to Poppy's care. This proved difficult as his thin arms were now around Snape's neck and the boy refused to let go. Severus huffed and hollered for Poppy; who emerged from her office at once. "Severus, must you bellow. This is an infirmary, not your classroom." Seeing the boy in his arms, she hurried over to him. "What have you done to yourself now, Mr. Potter.", she said with a click of her tongue. "Put him down here, Severus, so I can have a look at him." "Would that I could Poppy, but he won't let me." Her brows furrowed and ordered him to sit instead.
Potter's breathing was coming out in pants now and he whimpered when Poppy turned his head towards her. She removed his glasses, which has been cutting into his face with how deeply he'd burrowed it into Snape's neck and pried an eye open. "Oh dear", she whispered. She quickly pulled her wand from her pocket and cast a diagnostic charm and then two more. Her face grew more and more worried with each one and she was muttering to herself. "This shouldn't be possible. It's too soon. He's not old enough." Snape felt his own anxiety mounting with each whispered word. She bustled off without a word and came back with a fever reducer. It took them both to coax the potion down the boy's throat. He'd yet to release his hold on Snape.
Poppy cast a few more diagnostic charms. The final one spitting out words onto a parchment that was too far away for him to read. Her face was slowly paling as she read it. Words continuing to appear on the parchment. "Poppy! What the devil is going on with Harry!?", he hollered as his patience finally snapped. She looked up at him with angry sorrowful tears in her eyes and took a steadying breath. "He's going through a creature inheritance."