Severus woke the next morning already tired, in fact, he had never felt so tired in his life. He was sure that even during the war when he was caught between two masters and fighting to stay alive while being a convincing spy, he had not been this tired. His body ached and his head felt like it was filled with molasses, just thinking was a herculean task and his memory was terrible; everything he did was slow, from moving around his home to decorating for Yule everything seemed to require twice the effort it had before, even his magic felt sluggish.