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The ache behind Harry's eyes hit him out of nowhere. He recognized the telltale signs and groaned inwardly. The headache began in the middle of supper. Sirius was telling Harry about his meeting with Dumbledore that afternoon. But the signs of a headache have been there since that morning: the tension radiating from his skull down his neck to his shoulders, his upset stomach, and the exhaustion that had been nagging at him.
It was just him and Sirius tonight. Remus was away again on a mission for Professor Dumbledore.
Harry half listened to what Sirius was telling him while he picked at his plate. The meatloaf, roasted potatoes, and carrots were now smashed on his plate in one giant mess. He didn't notice when Sirius had moved on to rant about one of the Hogwarts Board of Governors members. Professor Dumbledore gave him the position, which he enjoyed because he had a say in Harry's education.
The evenings had become Harry's favorite time of the day. He enjoyed the one-on-one time with his godfather. After dinner, they would play chess, Exploding Snap, or watch movies or TV in the family room.
Harry loved living with Sirius. It had been two years since Harry moved in, and it was needless to say that Harry loved it. He could finish his homework, fly on his broom, have his friends over, or go to their house, and most importantly, he had two people who loved him dearly.
They made sure he was well cared for. He was fed, clothed, and had a comfortable bed to sleep in. Even though he was approaching sixteen, he wanted their comfort whether he had a nightmare or was sick. He had been sick a few times since living with Sirius. Sirius took care of him every time, something Harry still to this day hadn't gotten used to.
And now he was getting a migraine attack. He knew what was coming.
He could remember the first migraine attack. He was twelve and had to skip potions, claiming he was sick. Professor McGonagall checked on him an hour after class to find out what was going on with Harry. She got him an extra strength headache potion and left him two more if he needed another potion.
Ron and Hermione came to check on him after dinner, and Harry told them that his head hurt and that he was turning in early. It wasn't until Harry's third attack of migraines that he learned that his painfully bad headache was migraines. He hadn't had a migraine since his fourth year. Sirius was taking care of an injured Remus, and Ron and Hermione took care of Harry.
So, despite how awful he feels, he continues to sit with his godfather. Now and then, he nods his head and makes a slight noise in response. But he mostly continues to move his food around on his plate.
Harry didn't realize that Sirius had stopped talking until he reached over, placing his hand on his shoulder.
"Harry?" he asked gently. "Are you alright, kiddo? You've barely eaten anything for supper? Are you not hungry?"
He dropped his fork, which still had the potato and carrot mess he had made on it.
"Not really," Harry answered. "I'm fine, Sirius."
Sirius gives him a look.
"Prongslet, you know that I'm a good cook, and the day you turn down my cooking is the day Dumbledore does the hokey pokey on the head table, wearing a parka."
Harry made a face of disgust.
"And you've been really quiet tonight. You've barely said two words. I've known you since you were a baby. Quiet has never been your default setting. With that said, do you want to try again?"
Harry knows that he has two choices: confess what's bothering him or try to play it off. He knows that if he tries to play it off, Sirius will continuously ask him if he is alright. This gets him nowhere fast.
Sighing, Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses, moving up to his temples.
"My head has been bothering me a little," he admitted quietly. "It's no big deal, really. And it's not my scar," he added quickly. "Do you mind if I head on up to bed? I'm a little tired from playing Quidditch with Ron, Gin, and the twins."
Sirius gives his shoulder a light squeeze. "Sure, you can. Go ahead and head on up. I'll take care of everything down here. I'll be up to check on you when I'm done."
"Are you sure? Because…" Harry didn't finish the sentence before Sirius cut him off.
"Harry." Sirius's tone meant no argument. "Go to bed. I got this."
Standing up from the table, Harry reached to take his plate to the sink. But Sirius shooed him away and told him to go on.
"Thanks, Sirius. Good night."
Harry headed upstairs and into his bedroom. He collected his pajamas and a clean pair of boxers and headed into his bathroom. After the hot shower and quickly brushing his teeth, Harry opened the cabinet in his bathroom where Sirius stored some potions for him. Finally, he located a headache potion. After fixing some water, Harry took the potion, leaving the empty vial on the counter. Heading into his bedroom, he shut the door, heading straight for his bed. He laid down, sighing as his head hit the pillow.
"Hopefully, I'll be feeling better when I wake up in the morning."
Eventually, Harry fell asleep.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
"Harry, it's time to get up. Rise and shine. The early bird catches the worm."
Sirius's sing-along voice caused Harry to jerk awake from his restless sleep, sending a jackhammer to his skull. Merlin, does his head hurt? The pain ripped through his skull, pounding behind his eyes. He wanted to do nothing but burrow deeper into his bed and pillow, pulling the covers over his head.
Afraid that moving would only worsen things, he stayed still. Past experiences with the stomach flu and migraines told him that one wrong move and the contents of his stomach would appear whether he wanted it to or not.
Then, a few things happened at once. Harry cracked one eye open just as Sirius opened the curtains, bringing in the bright morning sunlight. The sudden light pushed the pain in Harry's head to new heights. He was suddenly slammed with nausea. His stomach churned. He could feel something rising in his throat.
Throwing off the covers, Harry bolts from the room, out to the corridor and into the bathroom, momentarily forgetting the door in his room that leads to the bathroom. He throws himself in front of the toilet just before the first of the retching begins.
Each round of heaving drives the spike of pain deep into his skull, bringing tears to his eyes. He jumps slightly at the cool washcloth on the back of his neck. He vaguely heard Sirius's voice say something but couldn't understand what he said. He could also feel Sirius's calloused hand on his back, rubbing in circles. Even through the thin T-shirt, Harry could tell how rough Sirius's hand was.
The back rub continues until he finishes. Sirius hands him some toilet roll to wipe his mouth with and then a cup of water to rinse his mouth out.
Harry tosses the toilet roll and spits the water out into the toilet. He cringes at the sound of the toilet flushing when Sirius flushes the toilet.
He leaned back and wasn't surprised to find Sirius kneeling behind him. He leaned his head back, lolling against Sirius's shoulder.
"Sorry," He softly murmurs.
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Pup," Sirius soothed. The washcloth that was on Harry's neck was on the floor. Tossing it in the sink, Sirius summoned another one and used his wand to soak it in cool water. He one-handedly wrung the excess water from the washcloth and vanished the puddle it produced.
Leaning up to reach the counter, Sirius laid his wand down, his other arm around Harry's shoulders. Adjusting the washcloth in his hand, Sirius wipes off the sweat and tears from Harry's face. He smiled softly as Harry leaned into his touch.
Harry leaned into Sirius's touch, feeling droopy like usual when he vomited. He would feel pathetic if he didn't feel so bloody miserable. He was grateful that Sirius didn't turn the lights on in the small bathroom.
After a few minutes, Sirius asked, "Do you think you can make it back to bed?"
Harry nods his head slowly, careful not to aggravate his head. "Okay," Sirius murmured as he helped Harry to stand.
Once on his feet, the room spins, and Harry blindly grabs for something to hold on to. Sirius tightens his hold on his godson when he sees him tilt backward.
"Easy, Pup. Just take one step at a time." Sirius slowly leads Harry back to his room. Harry couldn't do anything but trust him and hope he didn't puke on his godfather. Although, it wouldn't be the first time.
"Just lean on me," he soothes. Harry lets Sirius lead him back to his bedroom. Once there, he leads him to the bed and tucks him in like he did when Harry first came to live with him. Even though Harry was heading towards sixteen, the teen didn't care and relished in the normal act.
When Sirius leaves the room once Harry is settled on the bed, he whimpers. Sirius's comfort and soothing hand are the only things keeping the pain in his skull bearable.
Sirius returned a few minutes later and sat beside him on the bed. He helped him sit up and hands him a vial of potion.
"Here, take this. It's a migraine potion. It will help, I promise." Sirius then summoned a cup from the kitchen and, using his wand, filled it with water. He hands Harry the cup of water when he finishes taking the potion. "Here, small sips, kiddo. I got the bucket we used when you were last sick. But I really doubt you'll want to go for a second round."
Harry hands him the cup back and lies back down on the bed, curling up in a ball under the blankets and covers.
"Did you close the curtains?" Harry whispered. The darkened room was Harry's answer.
Sirius chuckled and laid a damp washcloth over his forehead. The washcloth was big enough to cover his eyes as well.
"Sirius," Harry groans.
"Shush, you rest now. Do you want me to stay with you?"
"Until I fall asleep?" Harry asked. He sighs when he feels Sirius running his fingers through his hair. An act Ginny had done when Harry was sick, and she took care of him.
"Of course, Pup."
Sirius continues to stroke his hair, listening for the sound of Harry's even breathing, using his free hand to rub Harry's back. Harry relaxes under Sirius's hand as his free hand rubs his back.
Harry's eyes feel droopy as the potion starts to kick in, and then he falls into a blissful sleep.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
The day passes by Harry in a haze of exhaustion and pain. He sleeps the day away. Sirius rouses him every couple of hours to get him to drink some water or take another dose of potions, adding a stomach soother when Harry mentions that his stomach feels yucky.
He's aware of Sirius's constant presence and comforted by the thought that, unlike the other times, he doesn't have to go through this alone.
The sun had gone down when Harry was coherent enough to be aware of his surroundings. He sat up slowly and took stock of how he was feeling. He felt stiff and tired, especially his neck, because of how he had laid his head. But the most important of all was that the ache in his head was gone. His stomach didn't bother him either.
All in all, this episode is winding down.
Harry gets up from the bed and heads out the bedroom door, staggering down the stairs to the kitchen. He could smell chicken soup once he turned the corner from the stairs. The smell makes his stomach growl, reminding him he hasn't eaten all day.
When he enters the kitchen, Sirius smiles at him from the stove.
"Sit down before you fall down, Pup."
Harry listens to him and sinks down into one of the kitchen chairs without arguing. Sirius pours some soup into a bowl about the size Harry uses for cereal and brings it to the table with a bottle of apple juice.
"How are you feeling?" Sirius inquires.
"Much better. Thanks." Harry inhaled the scent of the soup, his mouth watering.
"Sorry if I caused you any trouble. How did you know I was having a migraine attack?" Harry asked, picking up his spoon.
Sirius sat down in the chair beside Harry.
"Your Dad used to get them from time to time. It got to the point where I knew the symptoms, and so did your Mum. I guess you got something else of his besides the looks and the talent on the quidditch pitch."
"Lucky me," Harry murmured.
"As for causing me trouble," Sirius says, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry, while easy, is not one of your strengths. You were the furthest thing from trouble today. You were sick. I will always be here when you get sick. I've taken care of you for the last three years, and I'll continue, too, even when you're seventeen and of age. "
"I know that Sirius."
"Just promise me that you'll tell me the next time you feel another attack coming on," Sirius requests. "I'll give you the better potions from the get-go. I'll even keep them in our cupboard and tell Ginny where they are if I'm not around. I can trust her to take care of you if I'm not around."
"She does take good care of me when I'm sick," Harry agreed. "But so do you. I promise I will tell you next time."
"Thanks, kiddo."
"And thanks for taking care of me today, Sirius."
Sirius smiled at him and patted his shoulder.
"Anytime, Pup. Anytime."