And Then There Were Three

Chapter 19

Much to Harry's surprise, he managed to fall asleep fairly quickly that night. He didn't have any nightmares and though he didn't particularly feel refreshed the next morning, Harry didn't feel terrible either. Certainly not like he thought he would after hearing Snape talk.

Harry thought that Snape must have been exaggerating the symptoms because he felt fine. Either that or the potion hadn't had as much of an effect on Harry as Snape thought it had.

It wasn't until breakfast that Harry's left arm felt itchy for the first time. He scratched at it absently as he chewed a bite of toast.

"Feeling alright?" Snape asked from behind his paper.

Harry instantly dropped his hand and glanced up at him. "Yes."

Snape let the corner of the paper drop, raising an eyebrow in a clear sign of disbelief.

"I do," Harry said confidently. He sat up straighter in his chair and added, "And I slept great last night, so you were wrong about that."

Draco pushed his chair back abruptly and said, "Let's go take Rook for a walk."

At the mention of a walk, Rook jumped up excitedly and wagged his tail.

Harry looked to Snape to see if he would allow him out of the house since he was on restriction, but Snape almost seemed relieved.

He waved them away before tapping the table to clear it. "Go on," he said, "but just a short one and stay within the wards."

Draco waited until they walked out of the front door before he turned to Harry with his signature scowl. "Are you trying to get into more trouble?" he asked.

"No," Harry said, raising his hand to scratch at a spot near his shoulder. "Why?"

"Why?" Draco asked as he continued to look at Harry as if he'd grown a second head. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you telling him that he's wrong about something, especially a potion, seems like a pretty stupid thing to do otherwise."

Harry glanced back at the Manor with a frown. "Right. I suppose I wasn't thinking."

"Yeah, well I'd start thinking if I were you."
***
All thoughts that Snape might have been wrong were long gone as Harry lay in his bed that night.

Snape had sent them both to bed around ten thirty, and three hours later Harry was still wide awake.

And itchy.

So itchy. His face, his hands, even between his toes. Harry was sure he had never felt like this before. He sat up in bed and scratched at his scalp before curling his fingers into his hair with a groan.

He glanced at his closed bedroom door. Snape had said that he had a balm for his skin, but not once today had he offered it. And there was no way that Snape didn't know how itchy he felt. He'd been stuck inside the lab with him all day cutting up flobberworms and cleaning out potion vials, and Harry could feel Snape watching him every time he began scratching.

Harry scowled. Snape was likely just being his usual mean self, intending to make Harry come right out and ask for it. Far be it for Snape to give it to him out of the goodness of his heart. Git.

Harry fell backwards onto the mattress and rolled over onto his stomach.

Rook opened one eye to look at him, probably annoyed that Harry wouldn't lay still so he could get some sleep.

Harry blew out a breath and shoved his hands beneath his pillow. If he could just lay here without scratching, maybe he could pretend to be asleep long enough that it would trick his brain into actually falling asleep.