Snapetober day 5: sick/fever
“No, Severus, I am not”, Minerva replied, a little worriedly.
She stopped walking and looked down at the small boy in her arms who was watching her fearfully. She felt the urge to hug him even more tightly, but there were things that needed to be said before.
“I just want you to understand you must tell me or Albus when something is wrong, mmh?”
The child looked puzzled.
“Dad says he don’t care and mum says I mustn’t bother him”, he mumbled, eager to offer an explanation.
“And what did we say about dad?” Minerva asked.
She was heading toward the bedroom.
“I… I must not listen to him because he’s a bad father,” Severus whispered sleepily.
“Yes. Now I will give you medicine and then we will get you to bed, okay?”
She lowered him onto the bed. She watched sadly as he immediately grabbed for the warm blanket as if someone would take it away from him, and wondered how long it would take to undo so many long-standing habits, and teach the boy nothing was borrowed, or temporary.
When she returned to the bedroom, Severus, who had been dozing off, sat up quickly, his octopus plushie on his lap. Minerva put down the vials she was holding on the bedside table.
“Is there room for me?” she asked him.
He moved to the other side of the bed to allow her to sit next to him and stayed still as she put a gentle hand on his forehead.
“I really wish you had told me you were not feeling well sooner, Severus. You promise to tell me if that happens again?”
The boy nodded, yawning slightly.
“I don’t feel well”, he muttered, his voice trembling.
Minerva felt her heart drop. She had thought she could take care of a child, and the very first time he was unwell she had failed to notice until he had started crying, silently. Severus was so pale and his cheeks were flushed, his eyes slightly glassy. He was shivering. She tenderly covered his shoulders with a heavy Scottish tartan blanket, smiling as he sighed in pleasure; she promised herself she would learn, and do better, and one day he would feel loved enough to confide in her like a child would to a mother. In all truth she felt lost, and was under the impression she made so many mistakes because she thought she knew him well. Indeed she perfectly knew when her friend was ill, and when he was hurt or worried or anxious; she had quite a good understanding of his body language and could detect emotions no one would ever suspect in him. But the child in front of her was not the Severus she knew, and had grown to love, and she would have to accept that - admit she was grieving, and missing, terribly, one of her dearest friends. But was she ready?
She carefully filled a large spoon with a fever reducing potion, shaking her head as she wondered if Severus had been the one to brew it. She helped the boy swallow, gently. He grimaced.
“I know, it doesn’t taste good”, Minerva chuckled. “But you will feel better soon.”
“Would you… like me to stay with you tonight?”
Because otherwise, she would not sleep at all. She needed to make sure he was alright, she felt a pressing urge to protect him, to hold him, to make it up to him. Big tears started running down the child’s face, and she started panicking: had she done something wrong?
“Severus, was is it? Does something hurt? Do you want me to get Poppy? Severus?”
But the child just smiled at her through his tears.
“Please stay. Mum never stayed”, he mumbled shakingly.
And she understood: the boy was just happy, and feverish. He had accepted her and chose to trust her, and she would feel forever grateful. She bent down and threw her arms around him, making room for herself under the blankets.
“Now I have you and I will never let you go!” she said affectionately as Severus let out a laugher.
He curled up against her and she could feel the warmth emanating from his body, but he looked up at her and his cheeks were less red already. She squeezed his little hand as he gave her a rare, warm smile.
“Sleep now, dear. You need to rest.”
Severus nodded and buried his face in her nightgown, holding his plush close to his heart.
“Your feet… they are cold.”
“They will warm up, I promise.”
She watched over him for a long time; she stroked his raven hair until he was deeply asleep, listening as his breathing slowed down, as he mumbled contentedly in his sleep. And she felt love, and loved, as she had never felt before, a kind of breath-taking and homely happiness which filled her heart with gentleness, and made its nest just there. She sang him a lullaby, gently, softly, and felt a small tear escape her eyes as he hugged her in his sleep.
Prendre un enfant dans ses bras
Et pour la première fois
Sécher ses larmes en étouffant de joie
Prendre un enfant dans ses bras
Prendre un enfant par le cœur
Pour soulager ses malheurs
Tout doucement sans parler sans pudeur
Prendre un enfant sur son cœur
Prendre un enfant dans ses bras
Mais pour la première fois
Verser des larmes en étouffant sa joie
Prendre un enfant contre soi
Yves Duteil - Prendre un Enfant
Taking a child into your arms
And for the very first time
Shed tears while bursting with joy
Holding a child against yourself
Picking up a child with your heart
To relieve his misfortunes
Quietly, without speaking without shame
Taking a child with your heart
Taking a child into your arms
But for the very first time
Shedding tears, bursting with joy
Holding a child against yourself
