Chapter 3
As a child, Harry was sickly. When he was a baby it was rare not to see a worried expression on his parent’s faces. Visits to healers were the norm. At one point they even had a live-in healer. Harry grew up pretty much confined to his bed. Even now, at 10 years old, he still spends half the year sick in his bed. It was one of the many reasons he was so involved in books. He could escape his bed through stories and learn about the world all from his bed. He needed some kind of connection to the world and a good book is what did it for him.
Noir was also a thing in his life related to sickness. When his parents had his younger sister Victoria, they got him Noir as a way to watch him. At first it was relieving. He had a friend who was always with him. Someone he could talk to when he was confined to his bed at all hours of the day. Eventually though, Noir gave his parents a reason to ignore Harry more. It was one less thing they had to worry about. Harry was only 3 when Victoria was born. Sometimes he wondered if his parents resented him.
Harry has 3 siblings now. Victroia (7), Mary (5), and the newest addition James (2). With each new member to the Potter family, Harry falls further and further into the background. Maybe that's why he clings to Sirius like a lifeline.
Harry smiles as he watches Tom’s words spawn on the page. He and Tom had been trading words for just over 3 months now. And since Harry was having another bout of sickness, the last week or so has been full of writing. He had nothing better to do while laying in bed. Besides reading but if we are being honest, trading notes with Tom was much more entertaining.
Even though his body ached and moving anything hurt, he watched the words appearing on the page with vigor. Tom wrote fast and didn’t pause for even a second. And although the notebook doesn’t erase the words till you're done reading, Harry didn’t want to miss a thing. And he really didn’t want to leave Tom waiting for a response.
Harry looked up when he heard his door open. He could feel Noir shift, also looking to see who had come in. In the doorway stood Sirius, Remus, and Hadrien’s parents. Harry sighed and very carfully placed the notebook on his bedside table. Harry’s parents seemed annoyed but Sirius and Remus were smiling, looking content. Harry tried to smile at his Godfathers but his body was aching and doing much of anything at the moment sent shocks of pain through his limbs.
Remus was frowning as he walked over to Harry’s bed. When he got to Harry he placed the back of his hand against Harry’s forehead. "Harry! You're burning up!” Remus turned to the other adults in the room. “One of you call a healer! His temperature is too high!” Remus turnd back to Harry and gently laid him back down on the bed.
As he covers him with a blanket Sirius makes his way over. “I called Cissy. She should be here any second. James and Lily are throwing a fit but I don’t trust anyone else. And neither does He.” Harry looked up at the last comment. “He, He doesnt know I'm sick right? I don't want him to worry. He has so much to worry about.” Harry trailed off into a coughing fit that wracked his body. When he finally stopped his chest hurt and even just breathing hurt. Remus ran his fingers through Harry’s hair and lightly swept his thumb over his forehead.
Sirius just holds his hand and shh’s him. “You don’t need to be worrying about that right now. Just get better. And He’s gonna worry about you no matter what. You might as well get used to it.” Harry pouted and relaxed into the bed, letting his godfathers watch over him.
Just as Harry was drifting off, Remus’s fingers in his hair making it hard to stay awake, the door to his room opens and Narcissa Malfoy walks in.
***
Tom:
Tom sighed again as he checks the linked notebook. Harry stopped responding rather suddenly. Now he hadn't heard from him in around 10 minutes. Tom looks up when he hears a knock at the door. He rubs his face and sighs, calling out for whoever is there to come in. He is slightly shocked when he sees Narcissa walk through his office’s doors. She is put together as always but he can tell she is rushing. A step here not as graceful, her hair slightly out of place. Most people wouldn’t notice but if you knew the women you would know she looked frazzled.
Tom stands and closes the notebook, sliding it into his desk drawer. “What's wrong?” Narcissa heaves in a breath. “Sirius just sent a message through his patronous. Harry fell ill rather quickly and he wants me to treat him. I thought you should know.” Tom swears his heart stops. His soulmate is young and Tom has seen the articles. Potters always hold a ball when a child is born. A tradition among purebloods. And althoug his siblings had one, there was never a ball for Harry.
When asked why, the Potter couple would always say he was too sick. Harry was hospitalized many times as he grew up. Tom never really paid attention to it before, but looking back he faintly remembers the papers often mentioning Harry and his sickness. Him fainting at an event here, being rushed away with a fever there. Tom swallows, worried for his young love.
He nods at Narcissa, dismissing her, before making his way over to the door connecting his office to his bedroom. As he entered he felt his mind relax and his shoulders drop. Usually he felt like he could finally rest once he entered this room. But now? With Harry being ill? So near yet so far? That made his skin crawl and his head ache. That hole, the ever consuming hole that has been with him all his life, the hole that has been filled since he met Harry, has now made an appearance again. What kind of soulmate was Tom if he couldn’t even take care of Harry.
***
Harry:
Harry blinked as he woke up. The lights in his room were dimmed and the curtains around his bed were down and swaying lightly. A breeze came through the window, which was cracked. Harry took a deep breath before groaning. His chest felt tight and aches slightly. He tries to bring his hand to his hand to rub his chest but something stops him. He looks at his hand and noticed the IV. He sighed softly before relaxing into the bed.
The last thing he thinks before he drifts off is that he should write to Tom.