The Flu
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Also, the only proofreader I have is me, so if there are mistakes, I take full responsibility for them.
Enjoy!
Molly left a frazzled Arthur at home with the twins, Ron, and Ginny while she left to pick up the older siblings that were coming home for Christmas break from Hogwarts. Her poor husband had only just gotten off work and arrived home when she thrust a whining Ron and Ginny into his arms along with instructions on where the two causes of the whining were last seen. She wasn't entirely certain where the twins were hiding, but she was sure that they'd come out now that she was leaving the Burrow.
Grateful to be away from the drama, Molly apparated down to King's Cross Station a bit earlier than was necessary. She was looking forward to the holiday, despite the fact that Arthur seemed to be catching a cold that was trying its hardest to progress into something more and then move on to other victims. She had doused her husband with a number of potions which seemed to help and felt confident that he'd be back to his festive self by the time Christmas rolled around.
As she dwelled on these thoughts, she heard the whistle of the Hogwarts Express growing closer to the station. After a few short moments, the train came to a stop before her and she stood up straighter and gathered her bag while looking through the windows to find her boys.
The doors opened and a great number of excited children stumbled out, though Molly noticed that quite a few of them seemed to be a bit under the weather. She figured that there must have been some sort of bug going around through the school, and mentally prepared a list of meals and essential nutrients that she'd shove at her children so as to prevent them from catching it.
"Hey, Mum," said a slightly hoarse voice from her left and she turned to find Bill walking towards her, looking thoroughly exhausted.
"Oh, Bill, you've not caught something at school, have you?" She asked, moving to fuss over him.
He nodded tiredly and said, "All three of us have. Most of Gryffindor caught it just this last week of school."
"And let me just say…" Charlie said as he walked up to meet them, though he paused in his speech to sneeze several times before continuing, "…that finals should not happen when over half the school is infected with the plague."
Molly sighed as Bill rolled his eyes and commented, "The plague strikes again."
"What's the score now?" Charlie asked, in between sniffling bouts, which made Molly long to send him to blow his nose.
"Plague three, Weasleys zero," Bill answered, matter-of-factly.
"I told you, it's not the plague, it's-" cut in the voice of her third eldest, who tried to sound prim and proper even as a first year, despite the fact that his voice sounded strain with whatever illness they seemed to have acquired.
"Yes, Percy, we know," Bill and Charlie responded in unison.
"Alright now, boys, do you all have your luggage?" Molly asked, even though it was obvious that they were all ready to go. Each one of them looked like they'd fall asleep the second they got to the Burrow. She beckoned them to follow her through the station and they made their way back home for the break.
The atmosphere at the Burrow more than made up for the illness-induced calm of King Street Station, where the children just didn't feel up to being as rambunctious as they could be. Instead of dealing with sleepy, tired children, Arthur Weasley was currently trying to get a coherent explanation from a whining and now crying seven year old Ron. As he was doing this, he was also attempting to reassure young Ginny that the world was not in fact coming to an end anytime soon.
Fred and George, unbeknownst to their father, were snickering quietly while listening to Ron's tale of the horrific things that had supposedly been said to him earlier that day. Supposedly, the two nine-year-old boys had repeated the news that they had heard from the strangest looking muggle that they'd seen when their mum had taken them to London earlier that week. The odd man had been screaming about the end of the world and that all who heard him had to repent (whatever that meant), lest they find themselves in the worst of hells.
Doing such a thing wouldn't normally have terrified their younger brother so much, or upset their parents as much, though they hadn't necessarily repeated the self-proclaimed prophet's words verbatim. They had felt it necessary to spice up the stranger's words a bit, and were of the opinion that they'd done a great job at it. Their mother, and now their father, was not in agreement.
"Boys! Get down here, from wherever you are!" They heard their father shout tiredly while Ron kept up a steady and repetitive stream of "I don't want to go to hell, I don't want to go to hell!"
George sighed and shook his head while Fred laughed silently from their hiding place, which just so happened to be their parents' bedroom. They had figured it would be the last place in the house that their father would look for them.
"We might have gotten a bit carried away…" George admitted quietly, though he too was trying not to laugh as they listened to Ron's wailing.
"Perhaps it was the bit about the gnawing, gnashing, gnomes that munch on your eyeballs?" Fred offered.
"Or perhaps it was the part about the creepily tall man that drags screaming little children into the forest and maims them?" George added.
"Well, I should hope it wasn't the part about the house covered in candy that he'd get to live in. It really does sound great," Fred said, staring into space as he imagined the excess of sugar.
"It does, until you consider that the candy is all cursed to taste like all the vegetables you hate."
"And that it's the only food you can ever eat again, ever…"
"Maybe that was it."
"Probably. Ron sure hates broccoli."
Fred and George shared a knowing look and then cowered again as they heard their father's voice, now sounding much more drained than before, shout up the stairs, "Boys, if you're up there, you have ten seconds to get down here! Ten, nine, eight…" Arthur started to count, but as he did, little Ron had decided to provide his input as well.
"You two are so mean! I hope the gnomes eat you the next time you leave the house!"
"Ron, the gnomes aren't going to eat-" their father tried to explain to their little brother.
"But they said they would and now I want them to be eaten!"
"You don't mean that, Ronnie, now come on and sit down while… Boys!" Arthur shouted the last word up the stairs before adding, "Either you come down or I come get you!"
George shrugged his shoulders at Fred and said, "Well, now's as good a time as any."
"D'ya think we'll find out if the gnomes really eat people?" Fred asked, a bit nervous now that they were actually making their way downstairs to their tormented brother and deeply irritated father.
"I've never heard of it happening before…" George responded, but the more he thought about it, the less certain he was about the whole idea.
The two boys made their way down the stairs and walked into the kitchen in time to see their father crouched down so he was at Ron's height. Ron looked absolutely pitiful and their father looked downright exhausted.
"Listen son, Fred and George didn't mean what they said. They were just exaggerating because they thought it'd be funny. None of what they said was true," Arthur said quietly and calmingly, trying to get his youngest son to calm down a bit.
"But they said that if I don't apologize for being so annoying that the gnomes in the garden would tear me to pieces…"
Fred couldn't help it. He snorted with laughter even as George elbowed him to be quiet. Ron's affronted gaze snapped towards them and their father stood and shook his head at them.
"Honestly, where the two of you hear ideas like these and then how you find it to acceptable to terrorize your little brother with these things is beyond me," Arthur said tiredly, having long since passed the time in his life when he knew that he'd never understand his twin sons as well as he'd hoped to.
Fred and George tried to look repentant, which was ironic since that was exactly what they had tormented Ron with earlier, and the thought of this only made them bite their bottom lips in an effort to hold back their laughter.
Their father saw this, of course, and narrowed his eyes while saying, "Since you find it so funny, maybe you two could do the honors of getting all of the gnomes out of the garden?"
The two boys glanced between each other before George asked, "Now? But Mum and Bill and Charlie are coming home soon…"
Arthur cast a stern look at the two of them, to which Fred responded, "Oh, and Percy! We'll miss seeing them when they arrive!"
"Well then," Arthur said, "perhaps you should have thought of that beforehand. Now get out there and I don't want you two back in here until you've finished."
The twins nodded reluctantly and made their way out to the garden slowly. The two surveyed the garden dismally, listening to the sounds of gnomes running about to hide from their enemies.
"We'll be at this all afternoon…"
"We should've just stayed upstairs."
"It would've been worse."
"Or we could've just… I don't know," Fred said.
"Not made the comments about the gnomes?" George asked.
"I was thinking that we could've fed Ron to the gnomes before he snitched on us."
"Ah, that'd work…"
The two boys sighed and then got to work in the garden. They darted about to catch the quick little gnomes, getting a number of bites on their hands while they did so. About half an hour later, they heard new voices coming from the house and knew that their mum and older brothers had come home. The two shared a hopeful look and waited for a few minutes to see if they would be let out from their punishment but it was in vain. There would be no getting out of it early then.
A couple of hours passed before they even started to see the end of the gnomes' inhabitance of the garden. Wearily, the two boys continued to try and grab the gnomes and hurl them outside of the garden so that they could get inside quicker. Neither of them noticed their father approaching the garden.
"Boys," he said, startling them both out of their work. His voice, even on that one word, sounded tired and a bit scratchy. Fred turned to look at him, struggling gnome in hand. "That's enough for now. I want you to come in, apologize to your brother, get something to eat, and then head to bed."
The twins nodded gratefully at him and walked ahead to the house. Their father pushed them towards the stairs gently and, taking the hint, they moved up to Ron's room and walked in through the open door.
Their younger brother was huddled on his bed holding his blankets close to him and glared at them the second they got in his line of sight. Fred and George sighed and shared a quick glance, silently cursing their brother for taking everything so seriously.
Fred rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around the room as he said, "Look Ron, we're sorry about what we said earlier. We didn't know you'd be such a pansy and-"
A quiet cough sounded from the doorway and Fred turned to see his father looking at him sternly. George picked up where he left off by adding, "What we mean is that we didn't know just how completely and utterly gullible you can be. I mean, honestly, who believe that candy can taste like vegetables? Are you-"
Once again, Arthur cleared his throat and shook his head at the twins. Fred sighed and tried again, "Right, we apologize for upsetting you, how about that?"
Ron looked between them several times before finally saying, "I don't believe you."
George glanced at Fred and asked, "Whatever happened to the gullible little brother?"
Ron's eyebrows moved together in confusion before he asked cautiously, "What's 'gullible' mean?"
"Well, it's a lot like fruit, you see," Fred answered. Ron just looked confused, so George continued on.
"It is, since if you say the word 'gullible' really slowly, it'll sound like the word 'orange'. Go on, try it," George said, adopting an encouraging expression.
Fred glanced to the door in time to see their father pinching the bridge of his nose before the older wizard gave up and walked back downstairs. Meanwhile, Ron was attempting to make 'gullible' sound like 'orange', which naturally caused Fred and George to laugh hysterically.
The two boys left the room with Ron still not knowing what "gullible" meant.
Fred and George woke the next morning to a very quiet household. In fact, it hardly seemed as if their three older brothers had come back home, since it was even quieter than it was when they'd been at the school. The twins didn't spend too much time speculating on it, however, and made their way down to the kitchen. When they got there, they saw their mother yawning over a pot of what smelled suspiciously like oatmeal.
"Good morning, Mum!" They rang out together, surprised to see her wince and nod distractedly at them before turning to fix another pan.
The two boys took in her disheveled appearance and then leapt up to assist her, which of course was the last thing she wanted. They walked in circles around her, haphazardly stirring the pan of what was indeed oatmeal while grabbing an array of dishes to set out for breakfast. Molly just about stepped on them as they tried to assist her and finally lost her patience when they nearly knocked over the oatmeal.
"Boys! Thank you for trying to help, but you're not helping right now!" She ground out, grabbing each of them by a shoulder and steering them out of the kitchen. "Now go outside and find something to do for a while. Everyone else here is sick and I don't need you two catching it if you haven't already."
Fred and George mockingly saluted her while snatching up a few scones that she'd made the previous day. The boys left through the back door and made to walk towards the tree line.
George shoved a scone in his mouth and asked, "Do you think she's got enough potions for everyone this time?" Though, with the scone in his mouth, the sentence came out sounding like gibberish.
Fred nodded in response nonetheless, and added, "I'm sure she'll have that oatmeal loaded with all sorts of disgusting things by now. I'm glad we're not sick."
"Maybe Ron'll get it," George said, smiling.
The two spent the better part of the morning wandering around aimlessly. They found a small stream that they had found earlier in the year and proceeded to dam it up with rocks and dirt, effectively making a small pond. By the time they were finished, several hours had passed and they were covered in mud as well as freezing cold.
"We should probably head back," George said, shivering slightly.
"Hopefully we can sneak past Mum before she sees us like this," Fred said, stepping out of the mud and grimacing as it stuck to his shoe and nearly kept the item for good.
"Maybe luck'll be with us and they'll all be asleep from being sick," George offered. Fred shrugged his shoulders as he fell into step next to George.
The two boys walked back the way they had come and, by the time they made it back to the Burrow, the sky had darkened considerably and it was just about freezing outside. They edged up towards the door and listened carefully to see if they would be in trouble the second they walked in, or if they stood a chance at getting upstairs without getting caught.
"I think the coast is clear," George whispered.
Fred nodded and swung the door open quietly, inching inside slowly and glancing about in every direction. Both of them had been expecting their mother to leap out from the woodwork as soon as they stepped foot inside, but the house was absolutely silent.
"Do you think they went somewhere?" Fred asked in a whisper.
"But where would they go?" George asked in response.
"Dunno… let's get changed and look around. Blimey, but this house is never this quiet…"
"I don't like it."
They made their way upstairs and carefully got changed, making sure that their muddied clothes stayed together in a small pile so that they wouldn't be noticed as easily. After darting into the bathroom to rinse out their hair, the two boys went to the bedroom next to theirs, which happened to be Percy's.
"Let's just open it a crack and check, okay?" George said. Fred nudged the door and as it opened, they were able to see their older brother's bed and desk, one covered with a dark, huddled mass, and the other covered with stacks of books and parchment.
"Is he in there?" Fred asked.
"I don't know, I can't see anything."
"Well go in and check!"
"What if he's in there?"
"It's Percy, what on earth are you worried about?"
"I'm not worried…"
"What are you two doing in here?" Both Fred and George froze and turned to look at the dark shape that had spoken. It must have been Percy, though his voice sounded very distorted, due to what must be the illness that their mum had mentioned.
"Checking on you, of course!" Fred announced, stepping fully inside the room. "Whatever can we do for our dear, favorite older brother?"
Fred could feel both Percy and George staring at him like the idiot he was before Percy started coughing pitifully and, after a moment, asked with a hoarse voice if he could have some water.
Neither Fred nor George had the heart to deny him that and so they went downstairs to retrieve it for him. After dropping it off, they stood outside Percy's door.
"Well, that's one down. What about everyone else?" George asked.
"One at a time?" Fred suggested.
It was in this manner that they found out that Charlie and Bill also had whatever Percy had. Their oldest brothers had incoherently asked them for several things, namely water and something to eat. Fred and George made the trek back downstairs to gather everything and even dropped off a few things at Percy's room as well. They had finally gotten everything that Bill and Charlie needed when they had time to wonder where their parents were.
"Do you think they went to get more potions, maybe?" Fred asked.
"That's probably it. I hope they're not both sick though, imagine that."
"Let's go find them, then."
The boys went to their parents' room and oh-so-cautiously knocked on the door. The only response they heard was a muffled coughing sound, which was enough confirmation of their suspicion for them. George opened the door and stepped inside with Fred right behind him.
"Mum? Dad?" He called softly.
"Are you both sick, too?"
They inched closer to the bed and saw both of their parents lying on it, obviously sick with the same thing that Bill, Charlie, and Percy had. Fred reached out a hand and shook their mum's shoulder lightly, causing her to turn and look blearily at them.
"Boys," she said, though her voice sounded terrible from the illness. "You shouldn't be in here… You don't want to catch this," she added, coughing.
"What can we get for you, Mum?" George asked quietly.
What Arthur had caught had crept up on her so quickly that she felt its full effects mere hours after starting to take care of her three eldest children. She had run out of the necessary potions halfway through the day and had meant to get more, but she had felt so ill that she had gone to lie down instead.
At George's question, she mumbled out the name of the potion, but all George was able to catch was the fact that it was indeed a potion she was looking for.
George stood up straight and said, "Let's get Mum and Dad some water and then look for that potion. She's got to have some around here, right?"
Fred nodded and said, "You get the water and I'll look for the potions, okay?"
The two nodded at each other and went downstairs in search of what they were looking for. George went back upstairs with the water and Fred spent the next fifteen minutes attempting to locate the potions that his mum had been giving everyone throughout the day. He knew where her supply cupboard was, but he also knew that giving the wrong potion would be worse than not giving one at all. And he had no idea what the name of the potion was.
George came down shortly thereafter and the two continued to look before finally giving up. They resolved to keep bringing up water and whatever their various ill family members needed for now. On one of these trips, they were stopped by Ginny, who had apparently spent the whole day with Bill and Charlie, despite their warnings, and had also caught their sickness.
This revelation led to an inspection of Ron's status, which was the same as everyone else's. The twins worked to get Ginny back to bed and tried to find things to give her that would make her feel better. At the same time, they also found that their older brothers as well as their parents had strong fevers, and neither of them had any experience of being on the side of the situation that dealt with the fever.
They worked together to try and find ways to make it better though, and a number of their techniques seemed to help. They both remembered what their mother had done for them when they had been sick before. This led to them bringing a number of things to drink, soft things to eat, as well as cool cloths to put on their foreheads.
Fred and George carried on in this way throughout the night and well into the next day. They were both exhausted found that it was getting to be useless to ask their parents questions. Neither adult seemed to be completely coherent and both were too feverish to stay awake for very long.
The two boys were in the kitchen, getting more water as per Bill's tired request, when Fred asked George, "What else could we do? They're not getting better fast enough. What do we do now?"
George leaned against the counter and thought about it. After a moment of quiet pondering, he suddenly slapped the countertop and grinned at Fred, who was slightly startled by his fast movement. Both of them were starting to catch what their family had and, on top of that, they truly were exhausted from trying to care for them for the last day or so.
"Call St. Mungo's."
Fred stared at his twin before shaking his head and saying, "We can't, Mum and Dad put a lock on the floo powder box-"
"You're forgetting about Bill and Charlie," George said, smiling again.
Fred nodded and together, the two set off for Bill's room, since he was most likely to have a stash of floo powder hidden somewhere. He was also more organized than Charlie, so said powder would probably be easier to find in his room. They quietly searched through their oldest brother's things despite Bill's quiet protests from his bed.
"What are you two doing," Bill asked, eyes closed and sounding half asleep as it was.
"Looking for floo powder," George answered.
"Where's your stash?" Fred added.
Bill cracked open an eye and peered at them before he got too dizzy and closed them again. Then he said distractedly, "Top left drawer in my desk… way in the back."
Fred pulled the drawer open and searched until he found a small box that would have plenty of powder for the twins to get to St. Mungos and back.
"Excellent! Thanks, Bill," he said as they headed towards the door.
"Don't tell Mum it's there… She'll turn you into flowerpots…"
George grinned in response and then the twins meandered downstairs.
"Alright, so we'll floo over there real quick and get whatever we need, and then we come back here and everything should be fine again, right?" George said, holding open the box of floo powder.
Fred took a small handful and replied, "Sounds good to me."
The two boys then took a dizzying trip to the hospital and were spit out onto the ground floor. Attempting to look as if they were supposed to be there without supervision, Fred quickly eyed a map and muttered, "Second floor, that's what we need."
He and George got in a lift and soon arrived at their destination. Once there, they found a long line of people that had varying degrees of the sickness that their whole family currently had. From the look of things, St. Mungo's would be quite busy over the holiday. The two boys waited in the line for what felt like forever, wondering if they would still have to wait in the line if they were actually dying of something like some of the people in the line. A number of people barely looked like they could stay standing, much less conscious.
Finally, a kind looking, petite healer approached them and she asked kindly, "Hello, boys. Are you here with family?" From the way she said the question, it was obvious that she was concerned about why they were in the line alone.
"Sort of," Fred answered. "Everyone's at home sick and we're the only ones that aren't sick yet. We've been trying to help them but nothing's working…"
"We were wondering if you had any potions that we could get?" George stated, making it sound more like a question.
The healer's face warmed at their intentions and she proceeded to ask a number of questions about what their parents and siblings were feeling, trying to find out exactly what they had. The boys did their best at answering her queries.
"I would say that the lot of you have come across what all of these people have, then. Magical flu is the one for the season, it seems. Your mum had the right idea with the potion, but unfortunately, the flu changes each year, so the potions need to be adjusted each time," She explained, pausing as she realized that her explanations of the virus meant little to the twin boys before her.
She asked them to wait for a moment as she fetched the required potions. When she brought them back, she instructed them to give each family member just one vial of the potion. No more was needed for this particular strain.
"Thank you," Fred and George replied together. The healer nodded at them and then moved on to help others in line.
The boys got back to the floo system and endured the now sickeningly dizzy ride back to the Burrow. Upon arriving, they both found that they were nearly too ill from the spinning of the floo to move for a few minutes. After resting for a moment, the boys took the vials upstairs and gave one to each sibling and both of their parents. They got Bill to take the last vial before they let the exhaustion creep over them.
"Honestly… I will never criticize Mum for… the work she does here… ever again," Fred said, breathing heavily as they trudged down the stairs with the vials in search of more water.
"Let's make a card… or something," George offered, about to fall asleep on his feet.
The two boys got to the kitchen and then, finding that they had no energy left to do anything more than sleep, slid to the floor and welcomed the relief to the exhaustion.
Fred woke up slowly, though he noticed that he was much more comfortable than he had been in the last few days. Warm blankets were pulled up around him and he felt clean and awake. Before, he had been so tired that it had felt as if there was a constant cloud hanging over his mind that was unleashing rain and hail upon it every few minutes. Now though, he could think clearly and breathe deeply.
"About time you woke up, lazy head," called a familiar voice.
Fred turned to see George slouched comfortably in his bed across the room. He wondered vaguely how they had gotten up here when the last thing he remembered was getting to the kitchen.
In answer to his as yet unasked question, the door swung open quietly and in marched their mother, carrying a tray of delicious smelling soup and a variety of other healthy snacks.
"Oh, my boys, I'm glad you're awake. How are you, dears?" She asked, turning to look at each of them while fussing over their blankets and putting a hand against their foreheads. "You seem to be feeling much better."
They both nodded in response to her analysis and she smiled at them. "You can both probably imagine how worried we were to wake up, feeling much better, but having no idea what day it was. When we finally got up and checked on everyone, we found them all asleep and recovering nicely in their rooms, except for you two. My heart just about stopped when I saw your empty room."
Fred looked down at that, wishing that they had indeed made it back to their room before passing out. A glance across the room showed that George felt the same way.
"Arthur and I were absolutely panicked and I'll admit, the last room that I got to was the kitchen, but when I walked in, I nearly tripped right over you two," she said. She smiled at them both and continued, "You both did very well. Your father and I are so proud of you."
Fred and George blinked at her, having expected at least some sort of rebuke for flooing all the way to St. Mungo's without anyone else accompanying them. But instead, their mother just looked thoroughly relieved to have her family safe and healthy once again.
"Thanks, Mum," George said, and Fred echoed it from his side of the room.
She smiled tearfully at them, that kind of smile that never let them question the fact that she loved them, no matter what idiotic thing they had done. Then she patted each of them on the arm and stood up.
"Now boys, I know you're feeling a bit better now, but rest for a while longer. It's only Christmas Eve now, and we'll have dinner together later. Sleep well, and I'll be up in a while to check on you."
With that, she stepped out, and Fred and George grinned at each other.
"I think we did something right this time," Fred commented.
"I think so, too," George answered.
Thanks for reading – if you liked it, or if you didn't, please let me know in a review! Have a great day!