A/N: This was something quickly written for my best friend who's ill so it's not long or that good either but whatever! It has no plot and it has too much fluff as usual but I don't care. I was aiming for this to be set during the Hogwarts years so they're in the Room of Requirement because they're not allowed in each others common room, as someone kindly pointed out to me. So yeah, enjoy!
I threw myself down on the settee that had magically appeared for me not minutes earlier, my head resting in Harry's lap and feet tucked down the side of the sofa, groaning as the bright lights of the room made my eyes water.
I propped myself up on my elbows and turned to face my boyfriend. "Harryyyyy," I whined nasally, adding sniffs for effect, "Y'know when God created everything on Earth? Why did he create the flu?"
Harry closed the Quidditch book he was reading and made a noise at the back of his throat that was something between an 'aww' and a cluck, his eyes kind of melting when he looked at me. He buried his hands in my hair and brushed his fingertips over my scalp, his touch making me feel a bit less lousy.
"I don't know baby but it's not nice, is it? How long have you slept for? Do you want some potion to ease your throat up a bit?" He said soothingly and in a soft tone. He made to get up but I locked my hands around his waist and coughed pathetically.
"No! No moving, I'm too ill for you to move," I said hoarsely in an attempt to fool him into lying with me, my fingers still clasping his robes lightly and my eyes still shut.
He tutted affectionately and rubbed his thumb down my forehead. "I tell you what, we can both strip down to our boxers and have a doss about for tonight, if it makes you feel any better. I'm sure I could find a blanket and a hot water bottle to keep us cosy. Just so we don't have to move,"
I grinned and nodded, unlocking my fingers from around his waist. "Are you going to make this place give me nice things to make me better because I'm your baby?" I said childishly, my eyes lighting up in delight.
It was one of things that made me love Harry even more - he looked after me but he didn't wrap me in cotton wool. He gave me soup when I was ill, coffee in the mornings because he knew I could barely put my shoes on without caffeine and sometimes he'd just strip down to his boxers to cuddle with me and that was what I liked best.
I looked after him as well obviously. I occassionally gave him jam on toast remembering, of course, to put butter on before the jam and I made the bed in the mornings so that he didn't have that to sort out during the day. Most of all though, I helped him by letting him look after me. I liked being his person to look after because I was his. I didn't care if he mothered me and told me to change my t-shirt because it was too creased because it meant that he truly cared for me and I could think of nothing better in the whole world.