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tarotgalJust as the subject says :-) I wanted to write a little something with Harry for a change. It is his birthday, after all! Happy Birthday Harry Potter! He's 23... er... assuming he lives through the book series (though I don't see her killing him off. Then again, I thought Dumbledore or Hagrid died in book 5!)
This is set the birthday after OotP, and thus contains spoilers. So be warned!
It's unfinished and untitled and I'm very tired (it's 7am and about 2 hours after my bedtime) so I thought I'd post the first part now. It's suddenly getting a little darker than I'd intended, and I don't want to ruin anything by carrying on with the darkness and angst while I'm tired. That's dangerous! Anyway, on to the ficlet!
Harry tried to grip his broom more firmly, but his hands kept slipping on the handle from the rain. He reached up and dragged a wet hand beneath his nose, not getting much at all from the action. Every bit of him felt cold and wet and achy. He had agreed to practice with Ginny and Ron to get ready for the upcoming year, playing chaser with Ginny one moment and seeker the next. But he hadn’t counted on the practice running quite so long, nor it being quite so cold out for the middle of the summer, nor being quite so rainy. Nor, truthfully, feeling quite as poorly as he did. He had been fighting a head cold all day. Fighting being the operable word as he did not really want the whole Weasley clan fussing over him as he knew they would. Unfortunately, it was a fight he was quickly losing, with no help from the present weather conditions. Giving up his pursuit for the snitch, he splashed down into the mud not a moment to soon. He lifted his hand back to his nose and sneezed wetly, snapping forward. “heh-EHKshhhhh! EHchhushh!”
Harry looked up, scanning the sky through the rain and clouds, but saw nothing of the others. “Ron?” he called, looking around and wondering if perhaps he had flown too far away from the practice area. He snapped forward again with sneezes “ehhChushhh! EHshushhh!” He sniffled wetly and looked around again, finally seeing Ron and Ginny touch down far to his left.
“Had to round up the balls, Mate,” Ron said, fighting against the one old bludger they had to practice with, which was slow and stupid and so bad at its job that it did not matter that they were practicing without beaters. “And Ginny caught the snitch, thanks to her practice last year when you were off the… Harry?”
“hehEKshhhh! Ihkshhhh!” Harry sneezed again, trying to make the sneezes sound much more of a product of the weather than his illness. He failed abysmally, however.
Ron handed the balls over to Ginny with a sigh, reached over and felt Harry’s forehead so swiftly that Harry did not pull back until Ron had already felt it for a few moments. “You’re sick!” he exclaimed with a bit of a frown and a bit of shock. Harry shook his head, trying to deny the accusation. But Ron was quite convinced he was correct. “You feel like you’re on fire, and you’re sneezing in doubles like you do every time you get sick.” He looked Harry over suddenly, as though seeing him for the first time. “Bloody Hell, Harry! You’re soaking wet! Why’d you let us drag you out here if you weren’t feeling well?” He grabbed Harry by the arm and started marching him back towards the house. “Ginny,” he called back. “You’re all right with the balls?”
Ginny scowled. “Ooooh that’s nice. Just leave me here with all three and a broomstick to manage? Thanks!”
Harry stopped and pulled away from Ron. “I’ll help you,” he said, swooping down and picking up the quaffle. Then he snatched the snitch from her hand as she released it. Even with a cold, his snitch-catching reflexes did not suffer too badly. He turned away from them both quickly as coughs seized him. The aches and congestion were overpowering. And as much as he wanted to be taken back to The Burrow, he knew what awaited him there and he was not keen to meet it quite yet. “ehhCheshhh! uhhCHushhh!” he sneezed again, this time into the crook of his arm as his hands were occupied with a snitch and a broomstick each; he held the quaffle against his body and under his other arm.
With a decided nod to each other, Ginny took up Harry on one side, and Ron on the other. They forced him to turn, then started him back towards the house once again.
“What’s all this?” Harry asked with a laugh as he looked from one’s serious expression to the other’s.
“You’re sick, so we’re taking you back,” said Ron resolutely, tightening his grip on Harry’s upper arm.
“Out of the rain, so you won’t get any worse,” added Ginny, tightening her grip as well so Harry felt trapped between the two stubborn red-heads.
“I’m not that… sick…” managed Harry, his nose itching and tickling again. He pulled hard, getting his arm back from Ginny so that he could bury his nose in it once more to cover his sneezes. The action made them both stop, but Harry sneezed before either one could protest. “uhhChushhhh! ehhTChhhhh!”
Ginny grabbed his wrist and Ron took the first step forward as they continued along. The house seemed much further away on the return trip than it had at the beginning of their outing. Harry was sure that had to do with how much his head ached now. “Just… just don’t tell you Mum yet, all right?” he pleaded with them. “She’ll be so concerned, and she has enough to worry about right now.” Ron and Ginny both seemed to understand, though Ginny’s nod of agreement was somewhat delayed. With all that had been happening for the last few months, they all certainly had enough to worry about already.
They went in the front door, Ron and Ginny not letting up for a moment even as they went inside. They crossed the living room towards the stairs when Mrs. Weasley called out to them from the kitchen. “Didn’t forget to wipe those muddy feet on the doormat, did you?”
Ginny sighed and Ron groaned. “Mum doesn’t need magic. She’s got a sixth sense about these things already,” Ron grumbled as all three of them turned back to give the doormat a nice helping of mud and rain as they dripped.
Then, again, they almost made it to the stairs when Mrs. Weasley’s voice came through from the kitchen, “Harry, Dear, do you have a moment?”
Harry grinned as he pulled free from his two captors. “Coming!” he called back before either could yell back an excuse for him. He entered the kitchen with Ron and Ginny at his heels.
Mrs. Weasley was bent over to pull something out of the stove, examine it, then push it back in for longer. She looked over her shoulder briefly to see them standing there, all drenched and trying not to shiver. “Harry, Love, you never told me what you wanted for dinner,” she said, the smile in her voice shining through even though her back was still to him.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck a bit nervously. In truth, he didn’t really feel like eating anything at all. “Whatever’s easiest,” he replied with a shrug. “I love everything you make.”
She looked back at him, grinning. “Well! Isn’t that nice of you to say?” Her cheeks were red, but she was clearly pleased at the compliment. “But surely you must have a favorite?”
Harry shivered, glad Mrs. Weasley had looked away just then and missed it. Ginny and Ron did not, however. Ron rubbed his hand up and down Harry’s back, and Ginny took the balls back from Harry, having set her broomstick down on the table. Ginny gave Ron a ‘you take care of this’ sort of look, and went out the back door to stash the balls in their box.
Ron did indeed take care of things. “Harry told me he really liked that stew you made last week,” Ron said, thinking fast and catching Harry’s eyes. Harry rubbed at his nose and nodded approvingly at the choice. “We’re going upstairs to dry off,” Ron announced quickly, then grabbed Harry and pulled him back through the door and up the stairs. Harry had a fleeting glance at the Weasley’s grandfather clock, seeing that while several of the hands representing the members of the family pointed to ‘home’ and a few others, including Mr. Weasley’s and the twins’, pointed to ‘work’, Percy’s pointed to traveling and both Bill and Charlie’s pointed to ‘mortal danger’. Harry grimaced, thinking about what was happening right now and felt considerably worse still. “Don’t worry about them,” Ron hissed quietly in his ear as they climbed the stairs, seeming to have stolen a look at the clock himself. “With Charlie’s work, his hand’s almost always there. And Bill, well, his went there a few weeks ago when he was helping track down those death eaters and it got stuck. He’s probably at home sipping hot chocolate and—”
Rubbing his nose only went so far, and Harry simply could not hold back the tickling sensation in his nose any longer. “uhhChushhhh!” he sneezed, finding himself leaning against Ron for support as his body shook and snapped forward again. “ehhh-Chuhh!” Ron put his arm around Harry to support him better, which was easy to do as Ron was the taller of the two.
Ron smiled as he led Harry into the bathroom and pulled his shirt off over his head. “I almost thought you’d only get one sneeze that time,” Rom mused. “I should have known better.” Ron had seen Harry through quite a few colds, during their time at Hogwarts. Though, Harry constantly reminded him, most of those were colds he had caught from Ron himself. “Into the tub,” Ron called, plugging up the bathtub and running the water, testing it to be sure it was warm, but not too hot. He pulled one of the thickest, fluffiest towels they had out from beneath the sink counter. “And dry off all you can, especially your hair,” he said, draping the towel over the bar by the bathtub. He paused, his ears a bit red, and not from the bath’s steam. “You will be all right bathing alone, won’t you?”
Whether it was meant to be funny or not, the question made Harry smile. “I’ll be all right. It’s just a cold.”
Ron nodded, trying to keep his eyes off Harry as his friend unzipped and pulled his wet jeans down with a bit of difficulty. They were tight and wet and clung to him. “I’m off to change,” said Ron. “But then I’ll be outside, just in case you need me. Just give a yell, all right?”
Harry smiled again, trying to look comfortable with it all, and nodded. “Thanks, Ron.”
The bath was better than he could have imagined it. Though he was already soaking, more water seemed like just the thing once he had slipped into it. The warmth soothed the aches in his muscles and the steam cleared away a bit of his congestion. When he finally got out and dried off, he felt ready for bed and a long nap. What he found, as he emerged in nothing but the towel, were both Ron and Ginny waiting for him outside. Ginny looked nearly as embarrassed to see him in his birthday suit as Ron, but both ushered him into Ron’s bedroom, into his warmest pair of pajamas, and right into Ron’s bed. Ginny brought over a quilt from her room, draping it over Ron’s Chudley Cannons bedspread. Then she leaned forward and felt Harry’s forehead. “You’re right Ron, he is burning up,” she said, frowning. “No way we can hide this from Mum for long.”
“And what exactly would you be hiding from me?”
Ron and Ginny turned around sharply to see their mother in the doorway, wearing an apron and a less friendly expression. Harry, who could see her partially in between her two youngest children, slid down beneath the covers until just his eyes and above showed over the covers. “Um, nothing!” Ron lied terribly.
“No… nothing!” Ginny confirmed with a lie even worse than Ron’s. Apparently having the twins as older brothers had taught them absolutely nothing about lying convincingly.
“heh-Ehhhshhh! uhhhCheshuhhh!” Harry sneezed, wishing very hard that he hadn’t.
Mrs. Weasley pushed past to look down at the bed and what could be seen of Harry, who was now sniffling. He thought briefly about pulling out from beneath the blankets quickly to grab a tissue or two, but decided against him as Mrs. Weasley rounded on him. “And just when were you going to tell us you were sick?” she asked, hands on her hips.
“I was hoping not to have to,” Harry admitted, his voice so muffled by the blankets that he was barely understandable.
It was Mrs. Weasley’s turn to feel his forehead and frown. Harry noticed how all three of them had the same frown, at least when it came to him. “I’ll start brewing some Pepperup right away for you, Dear,” she said, her tone now a soft, soothing one. “You don’t feel much like having dinner do you?” Harry shook his head, though she continued on without letting him answer. “No, of course not. You don’t have to eat a thing until you’re hungry again. And we can have a proper dinner with you another time to celebrate if you like. You poor thing.” She bent down and kissed his forehead, very much avoiding the scar on it. “So sick. And on your birthday at that!”
Harry closed his eyes, not because he was tired or embarrassed or even depressed at the fact. Truthfully, he had to sneeze again. “uhhhHeshhh! ehhChushhh!”
Mrs. Weasley grabbed a few tissues from the box on Ron’s desk and stuffed them into Harry’s hand as he reached out a bit from beneath the blankets for them. “Bless you, Dear. Why don’t you try and get a little sleep now?”
Harry nodded and said a muffled thank you as Mrs. Weasley headed out. “Ginny, would come with and make some tea for Harry while I work on the potion and the dinner?” Ginny nodded, gave Harry a helpless smile, and followed her mother downstairs. Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley’s mutterings until she went through the doors to the kitchen. “All these dinner guests and he won’t even be here to eat… the poor thing, probably didn’t want the celebration called off… just like him not to want anyone worrying over him or making a fuss…”
“Well,” Ron said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “That was relatively painless, now wasn’t it?”
“And Ronald Weasley!” came Mrs. Weasley’s voice again. “You come down here right now and help me with this stew if you’re so keen to have it for dinner!”
Harry and Ron laughed as Ron rolled his eyes. “Knew it was too good,” he muttered, standing back up. “You’ll be all right?”
Harry nodded, almost glad to be alone again with his cold. Ron was an excellent caregiver, but sometimes smothered him as much as his mother would. Harry watched him turn and leave, hesitate in the doorway, then continue on down without risking a look back. He turned onto his side, extending his arm out to grab a few more tissues, before retreating almost entirely back beneath the covers of an unfamiliar bed to try and get some sleep. He missed his great big four poster with the four pillows and endless layers of blankets. He missed being able to hide behind the hangings of his bed. And he missed everything else about Hogwarts that made it feel like his home. He felt as though he had been shuffled around so much in the past year, from the Dursley’s to Grimmauld Place to school and back again so many times. And now at The Burrow. But it was still his bed at Hogwarts that he wanted to be in when he felt sick and miserable.
...to be continued! :-)
This is set the birthday after OotP, and thus contains spoilers. So be warned!
It's unfinished and untitled and I'm very tired (it's 7am and about 2 hours after my bedtime) so I thought I'd post the first part now. It's suddenly getting a little darker than I'd intended, and I don't want to ruin anything by carrying on with the darkness and angst while I'm tired. That's dangerous! Anyway, on to the ficlet!
Harry tried to grip his broom more firmly, but his hands kept slipping on the handle from the rain. He reached up and dragged a wet hand beneath his nose, not getting much at all from the action. Every bit of him felt cold and wet and achy. He had agreed to practice with Ginny and Ron to get ready for the upcoming year, playing chaser with Ginny one moment and seeker the next. But he hadn’t counted on the practice running quite so long, nor it being quite so cold out for the middle of the summer, nor being quite so rainy. Nor, truthfully, feeling quite as poorly as he did. He had been fighting a head cold all day. Fighting being the operable word as he did not really want the whole Weasley clan fussing over him as he knew they would. Unfortunately, it was a fight he was quickly losing, with no help from the present weather conditions. Giving up his pursuit for the snitch, he splashed down into the mud not a moment to soon. He lifted his hand back to his nose and sneezed wetly, snapping forward. “heh-EHKshhhhh! EHchhushh!”
Harry looked up, scanning the sky through the rain and clouds, but saw nothing of the others. “Ron?” he called, looking around and wondering if perhaps he had flown too far away from the practice area. He snapped forward again with sneezes “ehhChushhh! EHshushhh!” He sniffled wetly and looked around again, finally seeing Ron and Ginny touch down far to his left.
“Had to round up the balls, Mate,” Ron said, fighting against the one old bludger they had to practice with, which was slow and stupid and so bad at its job that it did not matter that they were practicing without beaters. “And Ginny caught the snitch, thanks to her practice last year when you were off the… Harry?”
“hehEKshhhh! Ihkshhhh!” Harry sneezed again, trying to make the sneezes sound much more of a product of the weather than his illness. He failed abysmally, however.
Ron handed the balls over to Ginny with a sigh, reached over and felt Harry’s forehead so swiftly that Harry did not pull back until Ron had already felt it for a few moments. “You’re sick!” he exclaimed with a bit of a frown and a bit of shock. Harry shook his head, trying to deny the accusation. But Ron was quite convinced he was correct. “You feel like you’re on fire, and you’re sneezing in doubles like you do every time you get sick.” He looked Harry over suddenly, as though seeing him for the first time. “Bloody Hell, Harry! You’re soaking wet! Why’d you let us drag you out here if you weren’t feeling well?” He grabbed Harry by the arm and started marching him back towards the house. “Ginny,” he called back. “You’re all right with the balls?”
Ginny scowled. “Ooooh that’s nice. Just leave me here with all three and a broomstick to manage? Thanks!”
Harry stopped and pulled away from Ron. “I’ll help you,” he said, swooping down and picking up the quaffle. Then he snatched the snitch from her hand as she released it. Even with a cold, his snitch-catching reflexes did not suffer too badly. He turned away from them both quickly as coughs seized him. The aches and congestion were overpowering. And as much as he wanted to be taken back to The Burrow, he knew what awaited him there and he was not keen to meet it quite yet. “ehhCheshhh! uhhCHushhh!” he sneezed again, this time into the crook of his arm as his hands were occupied with a snitch and a broomstick each; he held the quaffle against his body and under his other arm.
With a decided nod to each other, Ginny took up Harry on one side, and Ron on the other. They forced him to turn, then started him back towards the house once again.
“What’s all this?” Harry asked with a laugh as he looked from one’s serious expression to the other’s.
“You’re sick, so we’re taking you back,” said Ron resolutely, tightening his grip on Harry’s upper arm.
“Out of the rain, so you won’t get any worse,” added Ginny, tightening her grip as well so Harry felt trapped between the two stubborn red-heads.
“I’m not that… sick…” managed Harry, his nose itching and tickling again. He pulled hard, getting his arm back from Ginny so that he could bury his nose in it once more to cover his sneezes. The action made them both stop, but Harry sneezed before either one could protest. “uhhChushhhh! ehhTChhhhh!”
Ginny grabbed his wrist and Ron took the first step forward as they continued along. The house seemed much further away on the return trip than it had at the beginning of their outing. Harry was sure that had to do with how much his head ached now. “Just… just don’t tell you Mum yet, all right?” he pleaded with them. “She’ll be so concerned, and she has enough to worry about right now.” Ron and Ginny both seemed to understand, though Ginny’s nod of agreement was somewhat delayed. With all that had been happening for the last few months, they all certainly had enough to worry about already.
They went in the front door, Ron and Ginny not letting up for a moment even as they went inside. They crossed the living room towards the stairs when Mrs. Weasley called out to them from the kitchen. “Didn’t forget to wipe those muddy feet on the doormat, did you?”
Ginny sighed and Ron groaned. “Mum doesn’t need magic. She’s got a sixth sense about these things already,” Ron grumbled as all three of them turned back to give the doormat a nice helping of mud and rain as they dripped.
Then, again, they almost made it to the stairs when Mrs. Weasley’s voice came through from the kitchen, “Harry, Dear, do you have a moment?”
Harry grinned as he pulled free from his two captors. “Coming!” he called back before either could yell back an excuse for him. He entered the kitchen with Ron and Ginny at his heels.
Mrs. Weasley was bent over to pull something out of the stove, examine it, then push it back in for longer. She looked over her shoulder briefly to see them standing there, all drenched and trying not to shiver. “Harry, Love, you never told me what you wanted for dinner,” she said, the smile in her voice shining through even though her back was still to him.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck a bit nervously. In truth, he didn’t really feel like eating anything at all. “Whatever’s easiest,” he replied with a shrug. “I love everything you make.”
She looked back at him, grinning. “Well! Isn’t that nice of you to say?” Her cheeks were red, but she was clearly pleased at the compliment. “But surely you must have a favorite?”
Harry shivered, glad Mrs. Weasley had looked away just then and missed it. Ginny and Ron did not, however. Ron rubbed his hand up and down Harry’s back, and Ginny took the balls back from Harry, having set her broomstick down on the table. Ginny gave Ron a ‘you take care of this’ sort of look, and went out the back door to stash the balls in their box.
Ron did indeed take care of things. “Harry told me he really liked that stew you made last week,” Ron said, thinking fast and catching Harry’s eyes. Harry rubbed at his nose and nodded approvingly at the choice. “We’re going upstairs to dry off,” Ron announced quickly, then grabbed Harry and pulled him back through the door and up the stairs. Harry had a fleeting glance at the Weasley’s grandfather clock, seeing that while several of the hands representing the members of the family pointed to ‘home’ and a few others, including Mr. Weasley’s and the twins’, pointed to ‘work’, Percy’s pointed to traveling and both Bill and Charlie’s pointed to ‘mortal danger’. Harry grimaced, thinking about what was happening right now and felt considerably worse still. “Don’t worry about them,” Ron hissed quietly in his ear as they climbed the stairs, seeming to have stolen a look at the clock himself. “With Charlie’s work, his hand’s almost always there. And Bill, well, his went there a few weeks ago when he was helping track down those death eaters and it got stuck. He’s probably at home sipping hot chocolate and—”
Rubbing his nose only went so far, and Harry simply could not hold back the tickling sensation in his nose any longer. “uhhChushhhh!” he sneezed, finding himself leaning against Ron for support as his body shook and snapped forward again. “ehhh-Chuhh!” Ron put his arm around Harry to support him better, which was easy to do as Ron was the taller of the two.
Ron smiled as he led Harry into the bathroom and pulled his shirt off over his head. “I almost thought you’d only get one sneeze that time,” Rom mused. “I should have known better.” Ron had seen Harry through quite a few colds, during their time at Hogwarts. Though, Harry constantly reminded him, most of those were colds he had caught from Ron himself. “Into the tub,” Ron called, plugging up the bathtub and running the water, testing it to be sure it was warm, but not too hot. He pulled one of the thickest, fluffiest towels they had out from beneath the sink counter. “And dry off all you can, especially your hair,” he said, draping the towel over the bar by the bathtub. He paused, his ears a bit red, and not from the bath’s steam. “You will be all right bathing alone, won’t you?”
Whether it was meant to be funny or not, the question made Harry smile. “I’ll be all right. It’s just a cold.”
Ron nodded, trying to keep his eyes off Harry as his friend unzipped and pulled his wet jeans down with a bit of difficulty. They were tight and wet and clung to him. “I’m off to change,” said Ron. “But then I’ll be outside, just in case you need me. Just give a yell, all right?”
Harry smiled again, trying to look comfortable with it all, and nodded. “Thanks, Ron.”
The bath was better than he could have imagined it. Though he was already soaking, more water seemed like just the thing once he had slipped into it. The warmth soothed the aches in his muscles and the steam cleared away a bit of his congestion. When he finally got out and dried off, he felt ready for bed and a long nap. What he found, as he emerged in nothing but the towel, were both Ron and Ginny waiting for him outside. Ginny looked nearly as embarrassed to see him in his birthday suit as Ron, but both ushered him into Ron’s bedroom, into his warmest pair of pajamas, and right into Ron’s bed. Ginny brought over a quilt from her room, draping it over Ron’s Chudley Cannons bedspread. Then she leaned forward and felt Harry’s forehead. “You’re right Ron, he is burning up,” she said, frowning. “No way we can hide this from Mum for long.”
“And what exactly would you be hiding from me?”
Ron and Ginny turned around sharply to see their mother in the doorway, wearing an apron and a less friendly expression. Harry, who could see her partially in between her two youngest children, slid down beneath the covers until just his eyes and above showed over the covers. “Um, nothing!” Ron lied terribly.
“No… nothing!” Ginny confirmed with a lie even worse than Ron’s. Apparently having the twins as older brothers had taught them absolutely nothing about lying convincingly.
“heh-Ehhhshhh! uhhhCheshuhhh!” Harry sneezed, wishing very hard that he hadn’t.
Mrs. Weasley pushed past to look down at the bed and what could be seen of Harry, who was now sniffling. He thought briefly about pulling out from beneath the blankets quickly to grab a tissue or two, but decided against him as Mrs. Weasley rounded on him. “And just when were you going to tell us you were sick?” she asked, hands on her hips.
“I was hoping not to have to,” Harry admitted, his voice so muffled by the blankets that he was barely understandable.
It was Mrs. Weasley’s turn to feel his forehead and frown. Harry noticed how all three of them had the same frown, at least when it came to him. “I’ll start brewing some Pepperup right away for you, Dear,” she said, her tone now a soft, soothing one. “You don’t feel much like having dinner do you?” Harry shook his head, though she continued on without letting him answer. “No, of course not. You don’t have to eat a thing until you’re hungry again. And we can have a proper dinner with you another time to celebrate if you like. You poor thing.” She bent down and kissed his forehead, very much avoiding the scar on it. “So sick. And on your birthday at that!”
Harry closed his eyes, not because he was tired or embarrassed or even depressed at the fact. Truthfully, he had to sneeze again. “uhhhHeshhh! ehhChushhh!”
Mrs. Weasley grabbed a few tissues from the box on Ron’s desk and stuffed them into Harry’s hand as he reached out a bit from beneath the blankets for them. “Bless you, Dear. Why don’t you try and get a little sleep now?”
Harry nodded and said a muffled thank you as Mrs. Weasley headed out. “Ginny, would come with and make some tea for Harry while I work on the potion and the dinner?” Ginny nodded, gave Harry a helpless smile, and followed her mother downstairs. Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley’s mutterings until she went through the doors to the kitchen. “All these dinner guests and he won’t even be here to eat… the poor thing, probably didn’t want the celebration called off… just like him not to want anyone worrying over him or making a fuss…”
“Well,” Ron said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “That was relatively painless, now wasn’t it?”
“And Ronald Weasley!” came Mrs. Weasley’s voice again. “You come down here right now and help me with this stew if you’re so keen to have it for dinner!”
Harry and Ron laughed as Ron rolled his eyes. “Knew it was too good,” he muttered, standing back up. “You’ll be all right?”
Harry nodded, almost glad to be alone again with his cold. Ron was an excellent caregiver, but sometimes smothered him as much as his mother would. Harry watched him turn and leave, hesitate in the doorway, then continue on down without risking a look back. He turned onto his side, extending his arm out to grab a few more tissues, before retreating almost entirely back beneath the covers of an unfamiliar bed to try and get some sleep. He missed his great big four poster with the four pillows and endless layers of blankets. He missed being able to hide behind the hangings of his bed. And he missed everything else about Hogwarts that made it feel like his home. He felt as though he had been shuffled around so much in the past year, from the Dursley’s to Grimmauld Place to school and back again so many times. And now at The Burrow. But it was still his bed at Hogwarts that he wanted to be in when he felt sick and miserable.
...to be continued! :-)
great story!
Date: 2003-07-31 01:28 pm (UTC)Re: great story!
Date: 2003-07-31 06:04 pm (UTC)Should have read it through better... will go change that right now! LOL Thanks :-)
And glad you liked Harry... I think this is my first attempt at Ginny & Molly, too... I was a little worried about what to do with Ginny with all the Ron/Harry underlying vibes... so I'm glad she's in character at least!
Thanks again!
no subject
Date: 2003-07-31 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-31 06:07 pm (UTC)And thanks much! :-)