Harry felt as though there was not a scrap of strength left in his entire body. He seemed to be very hot, yet he also felt very cold. He felt utterly exhausted, so worn out that even opening his eyes seemed an enormous burden.
"Madam Pomfrey, what's wrong with Harry?" A familiar voice reached his ears faintly. It seemed to belong to his close friend Ron Weasley.
"It looks like a high fever, but something isn't quite right." A woman's voice spoke, a hint of puzzlement in her tone.
Harry recognized this voice too. It belonged to Madam Pomfrey of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.
She was a witch with a rather bad temper but exceptional medical skills. Now she was asking, "When did he get like this? Had he done anything beforehand?"
"He was like this when we got up this morning." Another voice came from nearby. Harry could still recognize it as that of his other good friend, Neville Longbottom.
Neville sounded anxious and ill at ease. "As for before that, I think we were doing homework together last night. Nothing seemed wrong."
"Yes, yes, that's right." Ron sounded just as anxious:
"We were going to go to class this morning, but we noticed Harry hadn't got up, even though he's usually up early. Neville and I went to wake him, but he didn't respond even after we called him several times. I went over to look, and his face kept turning red and then pale. When I touched him, he was burning up all over, so I hurried to find Percy and asked him to help get you."
"Wizards don't fall ill easily. Although young wizards may be a little more susceptible, they rarely develop such high fevers, and..."
Madam Pomfrey sounded a little hesitant. "My fever-reducing potion