The Dangers of Flu Season- A Drarry Sickfic

by Drarry-Caught-The-Snitch

Draco's Apothecary was always bustling during the flu season, but this year's flu seemed to be affecting wizards harder than usual. His children make excellent patients, but his husband still has a thing or two to learn about being taken care of. H/D - R/HR Warnings: Implied child abuse, Emeto.

Draco Malfoy was finally heading to the apparition point afterward very long day at work. This year marked his third year of running his own apothecary and pharmacy on Diagon Alley, and as he trudged through the gray and drizzling English streets, he found himself once again annoyed at the Ministry of Magic's new regulations regarding apparition.

A few months back, St. Mungo's released an article about how splinching injuries had significantly gone up over the past few years, which caused the ministry to place an Anti-Apparition Jinx on all major wizarding towns. They were trying to discourage the average witch or wizard from relying too heavily on apparition, since floo powder proved to be a much safer option.

This, of course, irked Draco to his very core. Anyone who had the slightest bit of potions knowledge would know that freshly brewed potions don't floo well. They get shaken up too much and it makes them less effective, but having to walk 6 blocks to the nearest apparition point was a major inconvenience for Draco's customers. For months now Draco had been applying to get an apparition point put into his shop, but he still hadn't heard back from the ministry. Hermione had assured him that the delay in response had nothing to do with his last name, but he still wasn't sure.

There was a sharp November chill in the air, and it had been raining for two days straight. While Draco truly did love his job, some days certainly took more of a toll on him than others. The apothecary has been busy this week. It was flu season.

Business at his store always picked up around this time of year, but it seemed that more people were catching the flu this year than Draco remembered in flu seasons past. Mothers had been steadily coming in and out all week, buying Pepperup potion and other potions for their sick children at home. Draco was glad to help them, of course. But on a damp, dreary November day like today, he wanted nothing more than to go home, curl up with his family, and enjoy a nice warm cup of tea.

Draco pulled the edges of his thick wool cloak higher around his neck in an attempt to get warm. The rain drizzled down the edges of his umbrella charm and he shivered. Just one more block until the apparition point. He could've taken the floo directly from his office, but he had wanted to bring home some immunity boosting potions for Harry and their sons. The last thing he wanted was for one of them to be down with the flu while Draco was so busy at work. So, apparition it was.

Draco turned the corner, finally arriving at the apparition point, and apparited home. He emerged in his warm kitchen just in time to hear the tea kettle start whistling.

'Oh Harry,' Draco thought, 'you are just the absolute best.' He was constantly grateful for his husband. It was moments like this that reminded him how glad he was that he and Harry had grown up to realize that their childhood feuding had more to do with attraction than hatred. He and Harry had gotten together after the war when they had both been named best men at Pansy and Ginny's wedding. Harry suggested that they make a pact to put aside their differences during the wedding planning process, and Draco took him up on it.

It took Draco months to realize he had feelings for the prat, but that was all in the past now. He had been married to Harry for five years now, and they were raising two brilliant boys together.

Draco stripped off his damp robes, laying them on the back of the kitchen chair. Aside from the whistling kettle, the house was unusually quiet. Grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, he began preparing tea for himself and Harry, before going upstairs to look for his family.

Draco he finally found his husband washing his hands in the bathroom connected to their bedroom.

"Hey." Draco said, walking in to stand behind Harry and wrapping his arms around the brunette's waist. He looked at their reflections in the bathroom mirror. Harry looked tired. "Where are the boys?"

Harry sighed. "I sent Scorp to the Manor with your mother this afternoon. Teddy's sick."

Draco's brow rose in surprise. "Merlin... I was hoping it might miss us."

"No luck there. At least, not with Teddy. He's in bed now, but I thought maybe Scorpius would have a better chance of staying healthy if he stayed at the Manor while this ran its course."

"Good thinking. Did Teddy wake up with it? What are his symptoms?"

"He slept in for a while this morning, and by lunchtime, he was running a fever. He has been coughing and sicking up all day. And complaining of a sore throat."

"Hmm," Draco frowned. "Pepper-up hasn't been doing much for this year's strain, but we have some fever reducing potion in the potion cabinet if you think Teddy needs it."

Harry finished drying his hands and turned to face Draco, brushing a hand through his messy hair. Draco looked into those worried green eyes before pulling Harry into a calming hug.

"I think we've both just had a long day, yeah?" Draco said softly into Harry's hair. He could feel the tension in the brunette's back.

"I just hate it when Teddy is sick," Harry mumbles into Draco's shoulder. "And I'm worried about Scorpius, he's just so little."

Draco pulled back from Harry, leaving both hands to rest on his husband's shoulders. "Think you can hold down the fort here for just a little longer? I want to pop over to the Manor for a bit. I brought home some Echinacea potion from work today, maybe that will help keep Scorpius from catching it. I took some this morning, but you should take some yourself. It's in my coat pocket downstairs."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "That's probably a good idea. Thanks.

"Of course, love," Draco said, stepping back from Harry. With a wink, he added, "I know what a worried mother goose you turn into when the boys are ill."

"I am not a mother goose!" Harry exclaimed, but with a 'pop' the blonde was gone. Harry simply shook his head and turned to look at himself in the mirror. He could see dark circles forming under his eyes. He was a worried mother goose.

Two days ago, Harry had taken the kids over to a playdate at George and Angelina's. Halfway through the afternoon, their oldest child Fred announced that he wasn't feeling well. That must have been when Teddy got exposed to the virus.

Truth be told, Harry hadn't been feeling all that well himself since that day.
Maybe it was just the stress of taking care of a sick kid.

Harry made his way back to Teddy's room. The nine-year-old was resting fitfully, his brow furrowed. Harry couldn't believe that he'd gotten so sick so fast. This morning, he'd seemed mostly fine. Maybe just a little quieter than usual. But by midday, Harry knew we was coming down with something. Teddy had no interest in eating lunch, and his complexion had taken on a distinct paleness that Harry came to recognize over the years as his guardian.

Harry sat down on the edge of Teddy's bed, brushing some damp curls off the young boy's forehead. His forehead and cheeks felt warm to the touch, but Harry wasn't sure if he should give him a fever reducer just yet. He remembered Draco telling him once that low fevers can be helpful in killing a virus. So instead, Harry just removed the heavy comforter off Teddy's sleeping form and pushed it to the end of the bed. Teddy stirred, coughing a few times. Harry smiled down at the sleeping boy and decided it would be best to stay with Teddy, so he wearily pulled his legs up to rest properly on the bed, leaned his head against the backboard, and shut his eyes. He forgot all about his tea that was cooling in the kitchen, as well as the immunity booster Draco brought home.

Just over an hour later, Draco returned from the manor arms full of baskets containing crackers, fresh fruit, cough drops, throat soothing tea, ginger ale, boxes of tissues, and a plethora of various medicines, all of which his mother insisted he take home. It all made Draco realize that he had much more appreciation for her coddling when it was directed at one of his sons rather than himself. She had really covered everything, there's not much else Teddy could want for.
Levitating behind Draco was a huge pot of homemade chicken noodle sick-day soup, a centuries-old Malfoy family recipe. Narcissa had asked the house elves to whip it up to moment Harry fire-called to tell her he needed her to take care of her darling grandson. It was the one thing that any Malfoy (or, Malfoy-Potter in this case) needed to recover from any sort of malady. A historic cure-all, from flu to heartbreak. And it was one of Draco's favorites.

Draco had given the doses of the Echinacea potion to both Scorpius and Narcissa, with the hope that that would keep them healthy. He'd overheard the mothers stopping into his apothecary talk about how this flu was hitting adults much harder than the babies, but still, Scoprius was barely a year old. Draco wanted to do everything he could to protect him, and so his mother keeping him at the manor away from the germs was a real blessing.

After settling the soup away, Draco used a charm to reheat their forgotten mugs of tea and carried them both upstairs to find Harry. Once again the house was silent. He first looked in their master bedroom, and then in Teddy's. What he saw upon entering the room was two very sleepy boys curled up in one very small bed. All the blankets were pushed to the end of the bed, and Teddy had managed to squirm half of himself on top of Harry without either of them waking. Draco could hear soft, congested snores coming from his son. The sight of the two of them made Draco's heart soar.

Draco put the cups of tea on the bedside table and gently shook Harry's shoulder. Green eyes slowly cracked open to peer up at him.

"Hey," Harry whispered, his voice a bit hoarse. "You're home."

"I am." Draco smiled. "I warmed our tea."

Harry smiled and carefully removed himself from Teddy, who merely coughed a couple of times and rolled over, falling back into a deep sleep. Harry blinked for a moment, swallowing. His throat hurt. Draco handed him a mug of warm tea and took a few sips.

"You still look tired." Draco noticed. "Why don't you go finish your nap in our bed? I will stay with Teddy".

"But I'm comfortable!" Harry complained.

"I know," Draco replied, "but you shouldn't be in bed with him. You don't want to catch this."

"Yeah, Yeah." Harry teased, "Thanks Healer Malfoy." Harry took another long, soothing sip of tea. "Mmm, thanks for this".

"Of course, Har." Draco said, squinting at him. Was it his imagination or was his husband looking a bit peaky? "Did you take the echinacea potion yet?"

"Er, not yet. I fell asleep pretty much right after you left. I'll go and drink it now."

Draco nodded, watched suspiciously as Harry and slid up out of the little bed and left the room. 'Please,' he thought to himself, 'please don't let Harry be catching this flu."

Over the years, Draco had come to the conclusion that most of Harry's quirkiness was just part of his charm. But the man got even weirder when he was sick, and not in a good way.

Logically, Draco knew that the unusual behavior Harry displayed whenever he was feeling under the weather was attributed to those horrible muggles he'd grown up with. They'd treated him worse than a house elf, and they never cared for him the way a child should be cared for. Most of the time, Harry insisted that the past was in the past and that the Dursley's behavior didn't affect him anymore. But whenever Harry was sick, he would isolate himself and try and downplay what was going on. Which made Draco have to work extra hard just to figure out what was going on.

It was downright annoying. And Merlin forbid Draco would bring up the fact that Harry was ill. That would just make Harry deny it, and then they'd argue. It never ended well. If the prat would just tell him when he felt poorly and let his husband care for him properly, it would all be much simpler. Although, over the years, Draco had come to the conclusion that being married to Harry Potter was never simple.

Draco glanced down at the still sleeping Teddy. Normally, Draco loved catching a peek at Teddy when he was asleep, as it was one of the rare times his appearance was untouched and he truly looked like himself. But tonight, he looked white as a sheet. His dark hair was damp around the edges of his hairline, and there were bright pink blotches on both his cheeks. He didn't like to see him looking so sick. Sure, Teddy was adopted, but the normally vibrant and loud boy was just as much Draco and Harry's son as Scorpius was. Draco would do anything to keep him healthy and safe.

Draco cast a charm to check Teddy's temperature, which read 100.3. Not, great, but not terrible. Although he wanted to let the boy rest, he knew needed to wake up and get him to drink something. It would help keep his fever from worsening. Draco used Aguamenti to conjure fresh water in the glass on Teddy's bedside table and then gently shook the boy's shoulder.

"Ted," Draco asked gently. "Hey bud, can you wake up for a second?"

Teddy slowly opened his eyes.
"Daddy?"

"Hey. Papa told me you weren't feeling well." Teddy just blinked sleepily up at him, so Draco continued. "I need you to take a couple sips of water. Can you do that for me?"

" Okay," Teddy mumbled, sitting up. Draco could hear the congestion in his voice. Handing Teddy the glass, he watched as Teddy took three small sips before sinking back into the pillows.

"That's it?" Draco chuckled. "Come on, one more baby sip?"

Teddy reluctantly took one more sip of the water before handing the glass back to Draco, who set it on the bedside table.

"Are you feeling any better than earlier?"

Teddy shook his head. "No. My belly hurts." He turned away to cough into his elbow. "And I keep having to cough".

Draco's brow furrowed in concern. "Okay. We are going to get you straightened out. Are you hungry at all? Nana sent us some sick-day soup for you."

Teddy shook his head. "I think eating would make my stomach get sick."

"Okay, that's alright. You can have some tomorrow if you want. Can I get you anything?"

Teddy thought for a moment. "Where'd papa go?"

Draco smiled. "Papa went to take a nap, he was feeling tired tonight."

"Oh. Well, can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course I can, Ted. Want me to read from one of your books?"

"Yes please," the boy replied, eyes fluttering shut.

Harry was sitting on the edge of his bed, debating whether or not to go downstairs and get started on something for dinner. If he was being honest, he wasn't very hungry. In fact, if he was being extremely honest, he could feel his stomach churning. He thought Draco's immunity potion might even set him over the edge.

Surely it was just worry, or exhaustion from his stressful day. He didn't feel like he was catching the flu, did he?

Harry had begun to feel unwell days ago. It was nothing serious, just general malaise what he couldn't quite fit his finger on. But in true Gryffindor fashion, he had been determined to not let his husband see that he was beginning to feel sick. Draco shouldn't be expected to handle a sick child and a sick husband all on his own.

Harry shivered, realizing for the first time that he was freezing. He got up and went to his dresser, pulling out one of his old Weasley sweaters and slipping it on. He walked over to the full-length mirror that was leaning against the wall and realized that the sweater he'd grabbed had a big green 'D' written over the front. Well, it didn't much matter, it was warm. Harry noticed how pale his face was becoming, and how his hair was beginning to fall uncharacteristically flat.

'Bloody hell, that won't do,' Harry thought to himself. 'If I look ill, Draco will probably confine me to our bed.' He pulled his wand out of his pocket and whispered a few incantations that added glamours to his face. 'There,' he thought, 'Much better. No need for Draco to start his coddling.'

Harry loved Draco. He really did. But whenever Harry was sick, Draco would declare him useless and send him off to bed like a child. And that just made Harry feel worse. He didn't need to be waited on hand and foot just because he had a runny nose. Right now Teddy was sick, and Harry needed to be there for his son. This was not the time to get sick himself.

Harry stared back into the mirror, admiring his handiwork. The glamours gave him a lively, healthy-looking complexion. Harry swallowed roughly before heading downstairs to make dinner for him and Draco.

When he reached the kitchen, he realized that Draco had brought home a gift basket from Narcissa, along with a big pot of sick-day soup. He looking at the pot longingly. 'It's tempting,' he thought, 'but could be a dead giveaway that Harry wasn't at his best. Better to cook something else, and save the soup for Teddy, who was actually sick.'

Eventually Draco came downstairs, dressed in green silk pajama pants and a white t-shirt. "Hey, I didn't expect you to be making dinner."

"Haven't you learned to expect the unexpected around me? I mean, you did marry the golden boy," Harry teased.

"Alright, I suppose I did," Draco laughed.

Harry turned away from the food he was preparing on the stove. "How's Ted?"

"I don't know," Draco sighed. "I got him to drink some water. He's asleep now, but when I left his temp was 101.4. We'll have to keep checking it. Any higher and I want to give him a fever reducer and..." Draco stopped suddenly. "What are you wearing?"

"This old thing?" Harry chuckled. "Finders keepers."

"Is that so?" Draco asked taking a few steps closer to Harry. Suddenly Harry felt a tickle in his throat. He turned abruptly back the stove, swallowing hard.

"I made us some pasta. Can you grab us some plates?" He said, coughing once.

Behind him, Draco raised an eyebrow. "Sure thing."

Draco gathered plates and silverware, and then poured two glasses of red wine, placing it all on the table. Harry carried over the pasta he'd made. He spooned himself out the smallest of portions, and then passed it to Draco, who filled his plate hungrily. "That's all you are going to eat?" Draco questioned. Harry was always hungry, he'd never managed to grow out of that teenager phase.

"Oh...um, I was nibbling too much while I was cooking", Harry lied smoothly. Draco nodded, taking a bite.

'And so, the game begins,' he thought. 'I just hope I can find someone to cover the apothecary. No way am I going to be able to go to work this week if Harry is sick too.'

They ate in silence for a while, occasionally hearing some coughing coming from Teddy's bedroom upstairs. Harry was really not interested in eating anything. His stomach had settled for the time being, and he could only pray it would stay that way. No, his problem at the moment was the tickle in his throat, which was growing more persistent with each bite. He took a sip of wine, willing it to go away. He felt the wine burn down his throat as he swallowed, leaving him no choice but to give in.

Draco startled, looking up as a coughing fit suddenly raked through Harry's body. Eyebrows raised, he waited until Harry was finished before speaking. "All right there, love?"

"Mhmm, fine," Harry took another sip of wine. "Wrong pipe." While they went back to eating, Harry considered his options. It seemed ridiculous to be pretending like this. He was with his husband, for crying out loud. Draco loved him. He should just tell him he was beginning to feel poorly.

Meanwhile, Draco was scheming. In an overly exaggerated voice, he stated, "So I was thinking about tomorrow," Draco started. "Normally I'd close the apothecary for a few days to help out around here, but I don't know if that's a good idea this time. There were so many mums who came in to buy potions for their families, I'd hate to not be there for them. They trust me, you know?"

Draco was testing Harry, willing his husband to be honest. No way in hell was he going to go to work if Harry turned up with the flu as well.

"Right, of course", Harry managed. 'Well, there goes that idea,' he thought. "If I told Draco that I might be catching Teddy's flu, Draco will stay home, and then other children in other families will suffer. "Go to work tomorrow, we'll be fine".

Draco scowled. Damn hero complex.

"You sure? You'll tell me if you need anything? Or if anyone gets any worse?"

'Bloody hell,' Harry thought. 'He knows. How does he always know?'

"Harry?"

"Yes! Of course! Don't worry. Teddy's in good hands."

"Mhmm." Draco said suspiciously, taking one last swig of his wine and then standing up to clear his dishes. "Have I told you recently," Draco started, still playing him, "that you are honestly such a fantastic father? And Husband?" He put a lot of emphasis on the word honestly. Perhaps that would drive his point home.

Harry looked him dead in the eyes for a moment before responding daringly, "You are too, you know. Honestly." he responded.

That little shit. Draco plastered a fake smile onto his face. What would be the harm in just taking it easy and letting someone else take care of him for a while? "Thanks, babe. You finish eating. I'm going to head upstairs and take a shower. I'll check on Teddy." Draco turned left.

Harry glared at Draco's back as he left. 'I'm fine!' He thought angrily. 'I haven't said or done anything to make him believe I'm not feeling my best and he's already being fussy.' Harry pushed the pasta around his plate for another five minutes before deciding to just banish it. He poured the rest of his wine down the sink. Walking slowly to the living room, Harry attempted to yank the sleeves of his sweater down further. Why was he still so freezing? A couple of coughs overtook him, and he did his best to keep quiet so Draco wouldn't hear from upstairs. "Maybe, Malfoy," Harry mumbled angrily to himself, "if you were just a little bit less of a stuck up know it all, I would tell you when I'm not feeling great." Harry sat down for a moment on the couch, deciding to read some of the latest World Quidditch Weekly before heading upstairs. He had fallen asleep before he knew it.

"What do you mean you are busy? You can't be busy!" Draco muttered into the fireplace.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I can't cover the apothecary this week."

"I do believe you are forgetting something. You owe me!"

"Not this week I don't. Ginny has her first championship game with the Harpies. In Germany. And I'll be damned if I don't get to go see that."

"But, Pans, look at the bigger picture. Would you rather watch a bunch of witches fly around on broomsticks, or would you rather be the very image of a domestic heroine, swooping in to save the wizarding world from all of their ailments?"

Pansy just sighed. "So dramatic, Draco. It's unbecoming of you. You really have been spending too much time with Potter."

"God forbid I actually spend time with my husband. Whom, I'll remind you, is ill. As is our son, which is what I need your help."

'I'm sorry. I just can't do it. Can't you ask someone else?"

"I've already asked Neville! And Theo. Everyone has this damn flu."

"What about Blaise?"

"Pansy, you and I both know that Blaise barely passed his potion O.W.L. back in fifth year. I do not trust him to make potions for my shop."

"So go into work early tomorrow and restock all the potions you will need for a few days. Then Blaise can just sell things."

She had a point. It wasn't a bad plan.

"I'll take it your silence means you know I'm right?" Pansy asked irritatingly.

"Fine, yes. That'll do Pansy. Have fun with the Harpies."

"Oh, I plan to."

"Give Ginny our best!" Draco said, just as Pansy was disappearing from the flames.

The next morning, Harry woke up to sun rays cascading themselves through the living room blinds. 'I can't believe I slept here,' he thought to himself. Harry groggily pulled his wand out of his pants pocket and cast a tempus spell, which read 10:45.

'So late!' He thought.

Although Draco was always awake much before Harry so he could get to work, Harry usually woke fairly early to tend to Scorpius. Harry realized that he had slept the whole night on the couch in his clothes and that at some point Draco must've covered him with several warm blankets. Harry wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and curl back into the blankets, but he had to go check on Teddy. Groaning, Harry sat up. He was not feeling well at all. His throat hurt as if he'd been coughing all night, although he knows that if he had been, Draco never would have left.

On the coffee table in front of the couch, there was a glass of water, a plate of orange slices, and a note. Harry grabbed the glass and took several gulps of water before reaching for the note. Draco's neat scrawl read:

H-

I am leaving for work early this morning, against my good sense. I plan to be there for 4 or 5 hours at most, so I should be back around lunchtime. As of this moment (7:30 a.m.), Teddy is running a fever of 101.2. Your fever is at 100.8, so you're not fooling anyone.

Go lay down in bed with him for a few hours and don't overexert yourselves?
I'll be home as soon as I can.

-D

'Well,' Harry thought, 'I guess there's no arguing with that.' He stood up, feeling lightheaded, and realized that there was a layer of sweat across his brow and the back of his neck. He'd have to take a shower after checking Teddy.

Harry walked slowly up the stairs to Teddy's room. All of his muscles ached, and it reminded him of his time training to be an Auror. It had been a good job, and he was looking forward to joining the force again someday. But right now, he was happy to spend his days at home with his sons.

Walking into the bedroom, Harry saw that Teddy had sprawled himself across the bed. He'd pushed all of his blankets to the floor, but he was trembling. Even from across the room Harry could see that he was white as a ghost. All of Harry's own ailments fell away as he rushed to Teddy's side, feeling the boy's forehead. Harry wasn't sure if the boy felt especially warm or not, so he used a spell to check his temperature. 102.6.

Shocked, Harry felt the boy's head and neck again and found that it didn't feel nearly as warm as the spell suggested. Harry wasn't sure if that meant that his fever had also risen, or if there was something wrong with his spell.

Even if the spell was glitching, Harry did not want to take chances with such a high temp. He accio'd a fever reducer from Draco's potion cabinet and conjured a washcloth and a bowl of cool water. Harry stifled a coughing fit of his own and felt his lungs burn in retaliation. Now was not the time. Harry brushed the cool wet cloth across Teddy's head and neck and Teddy's eyes blinked up at him.

"Papa...?"

"Hey, Teddy. You've got a really high fever right now. We've got to cool you down."

"I don't feel good," he said weakly.

"I know, love. I know. I need you to sit up and take some medicine for me, okay?"

Teddy nodded and Harry helped him to sit up. He gave Teddy the potion just as he heard an owl scratch at Teddy's window. Harry helped Ted back down onto the pillows before walking over to open the window. The small pristine looking grey owl flew in, perching on Teddy's desk. It was Narcissa's. Harry took the note from its leg, rubbing the side of its head with his knuckle. He unraveled the note, seeing Narcissa's elegant scrawling cursive.

'Harry-' the note read,

'This morning I woke up and discovered that Scorpius is under the weather. I'm so sorry, I had hoped that isolating him from his brother might have prevented him from becoming ill. He is resting now, but when he wakes I will bring him to you. Let me know if there is anything else you need.
-Narcissa Malfoy.'

Harry cursed quietly to himself as the owl flew back out the open window. This was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. He had to just take this one kid at a time.

"What's wrong Papa?"

Harry shut the window and turned back to Teddy, one hand coming up to rub at his temple. He had a serious headache coming on. "That was Nana," he sighed. "Scorp is sick now too".

Teddy's eyebrows raised "I'm...I'm sorry Papa. I didn't mean to get him sick." His bottom lip jutted out and suddenly began quivering.

"No, Ted. It's not your fault. You aren't feeling well either, this isn't your fault."

"But is he gonna be okay? He's just a baby!"

"He's gonna be fine. Daddy and I will take care of him, just like we are taking care of you." Harry scooped Teddy up in a hug and brushed the beginnings of tears from his cheek. He offering him a couple of sips of cool water, and then just sat with him for a while, continuing to wipe the cool cloth across his son's warm body. Teddy's eyes soon began to close. Harry checked his temperature again, and the spell read 99.8. Thank Merlin for potions.

"Get some more rest, I'm just going to be downstairs", Harry whispered. He picked up the blankets from the floor and tucked them around Teddy, smiling as the boy snuggled down into them.

Walking downstairs, Harry swallowed thickly and realized for the first time how sore his throat was. He thought about making himself a coffee, or maybe try to eat some of the orange slices Draco had left for him. But his stomach hurt, and he thought caffeine or fruit might make it worse. He realized that he should probably take his own temperature. He whispered a quick diagnostic spell, and after a moment, his temp appeared in the air by his wand. It read 102.1. That was definitely higher than Harry had expected. Maybe if he took some potions before Draco got home he could get himself back under control. Just as he was about to Accio a fever-reducing potion for himself, he heard Teddy's cries from upstairs.

"Papa... papa!"

Harry raced up the stairs, but he was too late. The potion must have upset Teddy's stomach. He was hunched over, sicking up onto the blankets. Harry grabbed the garbage bin from the corner of the room and rushed it under the boy's chin. He rubbed circles on Teddy's back, doing his best to calm him until he was finished choking over the bin. Watching the whole scenario was making Harry's stomach turn dangerously, and he swallowed

'Not now.' He thought.
Finally, after several long moments of silence, Teddy pulled himself away from the bin, breathing heavily.

Harry banished the mess in the bin and on the bed. He suddenly felt as though his own magic was beginning to drain, and he was exhausted. "You think you're done?" Harry asked, and Teddy nodded, tears dripping down his face. "It's okay, you're okay. I'm gonna leave you this trashcan, right here next to the bed, okay?" Harry wiped Teddy's face and chin with the washcloth he'd been using earlier. Harry spelled another temperature check, which revealed that Ted's fever was rocketing back up. So much for the potion.

Tears still spilled from Teddy's checks as he flopped back onto his pillow. It physically just Harry to see him this way.

"I just don't feel good Papa."

"I know. Stay right here, okay Ted?" Harry pulled himself up and went to the master bathroom. He leaned over to turn on the porcelain tub, starting to run Teddy a cool bath. He needed to get his fever down, and the potion wasn't going to do it.

Harry coughed again into his elbow. He felt as though he could feel his chest rattling with each cough. Merlin, what he wouldn't give to just lie down for a bit. Harry sighed wistfully. Later, he promised himself, I will rest. Just as soon as I can get Teddy's fever down. Harry had forgotten all about his own rising fever.

About an hour later, he was ushering Teddy back into a freshly made bed. It took a while, but he was finally able to lower the boy's fever with the cool water. After offering Teddy a sip of juice and tucking him back in bed, Harry decided that crawling in with him for a moment wouldn't hurt. He laid there for a few moments, listening to Teddy's breathing even out, and for a moment he felt himself drifting as well. That is until he felt his wards shift and heard a knock at the front door.

Harry scrunched his eyes shut, willing whoever it was to go away, but the knocking persisted. He realized with a start that it was Narcissa bringing his sick baby Scorpius home. Harry got up slowly, so as to not disturb Teddy. Coughing again, he slowly walked downstairs to the front door, glancing at the grandfather clock as he passed through the living room. It was only noon, but that meant that Draco would be home soon.

Harry pulled open the heavy oak door to see Narcissa, dressed as elegantly as ever, without a single hair out of place. In her arms was Scorpius, who held his fat baby arms out in Harry's direction.

"Harry, dear," Narcissa paused, passing the baby to him. "How are you? How is my grandson?"

"I am fine!" Harry said, brushed a strand Scorpius's wispy blonde hair behind his little ear. "Ted's been better. I just got his fever under control. Have you spoken to Draco today?"

"About Scorpius, you mean? No, I haven't. I assumed you'd want to inform your husband yourself." Narcissa smiled politely. "Is there anything you need? I must admit, you are not looking so well yourself."

Harry rubbed a hand over his brow and then shifted Scorpius in his arms. The baby wasn't very heavy, but in Harry's aching arms he felt like he weighed a million pounds. "We'll be alright. Draco will be on his way home soon. Thanks for trying to keep this little guy from catching this."

"Yes, of course, dear. Anytime. You take care of yourself." Narcissa glanced at him knowingly before appariting away.

"Will do." Harry whispered to himself, before pulling the door shut. He smiled down at Scorpius, who was clinging tightly to Harry's shirt and sucking his thumb. Scorpius was just over a year old, and he was dangerously cute, even with the flu.
He carried his youngest son up to Teddy's room, laying down next to Teddy while Scorpius cuddled up on his chest. He spelled a baby blanket over Scorpius, and then closed his eyes.

"Listen, dear, I do believe I should be there with them."

"I know Mother." Draco leaned into the firecall. "Except that, I don't want you catching this flu."

"Harry didn't look fit enough to be taking care of my grandchildren on his own."

Draco frowned. "I said I would be going home to them shortly. I'm doing the best I can. They'll manage another hour."

"Please. Be sensible."

"I am always sensible," He huffed. "Thank you for all your help Mother, and thanks for calling. Now I need to get back to work so I can finish up and go home."

"Draco, I'm only trying to help."

"I know. But it's too risky. I'll owl later."

"Alright," Narcissa said reluctantly. "Take care."
Draco ended the firecall and squeezed his eyes shut.

"...Shit."

Harry wasn't sure how much time had lapsed, but he and Teddy both woke up to Scorpius crying loudly on Harry's chest.

"Shhh, shh, please Scorpius. We all need to rest," Harry muttered hoarsely, sitting up and rubbing the baby's back.

"Papa, make him stop!" Teddy grumbled into his pillow.

Harry sat up and held Scorpius closer to himself. He had no idea how long they'd been resting for, but it felt it had been hours. Where was Draco?

Harry used a spell to check the time and realize that he's only been asleep for twenty minutes.
He stood slowly, bouncing Scorpius in his arms. "Teddy, I'm gonna walk him around and see what's up. You good for now?"

"Yes, I'm okay."

"Good. I'll be back soon," Harry said, carrying the crying baby out of Teddy's room and down the hall into the master bedroom.

Harry changed his nappy and rocked him, but fifteen minutes later, Scorpius was still red-faced and crying. Harry sat at the end of his bed and held the baby to his chest, equal parts frustrated and exhausted.

"I know, sweets. I know you aren't feeling well. I wish I could make things better for you. Just calm down, and you'll feel better." He mumbled nonsensically, pausing to let out a few coughs that rattled in his chest.

'This day will never end ...' Harry thought. He wondered if he should just owl Draco and admit defeat. He'd been napping all day, and after waking up from each nap, he'd felt worse. He didn't know how much longer he could go on by himself with two sick kids. Harry felt himself start to get emotional, which was a sure sign that his own fever was rising. The boy who lived could usually keep his cool in situations like these.

His stomach began to flip-flop, and he realized he didn't have the strength to fight the nausea this time. He quickly set Scorpius back on the bed and rushed to the trash bin.

Draco took his wand out of his pocket and used a spell to calculate the number of customers who had walked through his door that day. The count was up to 45. Though wasn't a big shop, its location in the center of Diagon Alley guaranteed that it was always bustling. He was thankful that Blaise had agreed to help him today, but even with the help, Draco was feeling the pressure. He was selling out of many of his common potions, but even his specialty potions were flying off the shelves. He'd have to visit Neville to get more herbs sometime next week.

He'd really wanted to leave early, but with so many people coming in and out, Draco wasn't sure if that was possible. He'd spent the morning making all the necessary potions he'd need, but without time to properly train Blaise, he couldn't trust that the man knew what he was doing. He didn't have any idea what to prescribe, and his shop had a reputation to uphold. Draco would have admit though if only to himself, that it was nice having a bit of help. Even if Blaise was fairly incompetent.

As it was, Draco been gone for nearly 6 hours. He was worried about his family. Scorpius had never really been sick before, and Harry wasn't the greatest at taking care of himself. 'Maybe I should owl Him, and check in,' Draco thought.

Blaise's booming voice cut into his thoughts from another side of the apothecary. "Oi, Draco, We have a customer over here who wants a flesh-eating slug repellent, and I can't find any."

"Be right there Blaise." Draco yelled back. 'I guess the owl will have to wait.'

Nearly forty minutes later, Harry lulled Scorpius back to sleep on his chest and then drifted into a fitful sleep himself.

It was cold. Unbearably cold. He was in at Privet Drive, and he couldn't have been any more than nine years old; the same age as Teddy is now.

His cousin Dudley had become ill earlier in the week and had been carelessly spreading his germs around the house. He had spent his every waking moment that week complaining about his ailments. Aunt Petunia sent Uncle Vernon out several times to buy cough syrup, and popsicles and presents to make their son feel better. She'd made him chicken soup and let him watch all the television he wanted.
Petunia so was busy nursing her little Dudlykins back to health, but the housework still needed to be maintained. Fast forward three days and little Harry was dragging his feet as he tried to accomplish the overwhelming amount of tasks he was told to do. Uncle Vernon had threatened that it better all be done before he got home from work or... well, Harry didn't want to think of what would happen. But Harry was feeling ill himself.

He climbed the stairs to Dudley's room and knocked on the door. "Aunt Petunia," Harry sniffed, "I don't feel so good."

"Finish your chores and then you can go back to your cupboard".

"Do think maybe I could rest now, and finish the chores lat-"

"No, you ungrateful little brat!" Petunia snapped at him. "After all we've done for you, are you really too lazy to complete a few simple tasks?"

"No, Aunt Petunia, but-"

"Then get back to work".

Harry turned and left, feeling the beginnings of tears prick at his eyes. He had just wanted a short break. He felt positively rotten.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being shaken awake. It took him a minute before he realized he was lying face down on the kitchen floor, where he'd collapsed midway scrubbing the floor. Vernon was angry, but Harry was so out of it he nearly couldn't process Vernon's anger. There had been so much yelling, and then Harry was grabbed by his collar and dragged into his cupboard under the stairs. He barely came out for days. It took weeks for Petunia to stop reminding him of what a useless burden he was, which made him worse than he'd felt when he'd been sick.

"Papa!"

Harry began being pulled from the nightmarish memory of his past. He heard Scorpius crying and felt a little hand tugging his shirtsleeve.

"Papa, wake up."

He heard his sons, and he knew they needed him, but he was struggling to wake up. His eyes felt cemented shut.

"Papa?" Teddy questioned. "Come here Scorp."

Although Harry could hear Teddy calling him, it sounded as though he was a million miles away. Harry felt the hot weight of his baby lift off of his chest, and found that he could suddenly breathe again. He tried to take a deep breath in, but instead began coughing and choking up phlegm. When he had finally succeeded in forcing his eyes open, he squinted over at Teddy, who was busy soothing a crying, sick Scorpius. Harry's stomach lurched dangerously.

"Boys..." Harry tried, his voice hoarse with sleep. "Teddy..."

"Papa, are you okay? You don't look so good."

Harry had only a moment to process what Teddy said before he was doubled over, getting sick in the bin next to the bed.

"It's okay, Papa." Teddy's voice sounded frantic. "I'm gonna firecall daddy for us!"

Harry struggled to get up to help; he needed to help. He knew he needed to take care of his family, but his body had other plans. He leaned over the bin once more.

"Daddy..." Once again Teddy's tearful voice sounded far away. Harry could hear was his own teeth chattering, which sounded loud in his skull. It was so cold. Were the boys this cold? He should put a fire on.

"Daddy, Papa is really sick. And Scorpius is sick too and you have to come home. We need you."

Harry pulled himself out of bed with a groan. He could put on a fire, but it would be easier to just adjust the thermostat. Did his house have a thermostat?

"Papa, don't get up," Teddy yelled, but Harry's brain processed this request too late. He wrenched himself out of bed, wobbling to the fireplace. His muscles ached, but he had to get the boys warm. He had be useful.

"Look out, Ted. I'm coming through".

'Was that Draco?' Harry wondered. 'Did Draco come home?'
Harry stopped walking and blinked for a moment. What had he gotten up to go do? His mind went blank as he was hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. Strong arms suddenly reached out to steady him.

"Woah, okay Harry. Easy."

It was Draco. He was home and... oh no. Draco was home. Harry's fevered mind began to panic. Draco would be able to tell that he was really sick, and he would worry. Harry had been trying so hard, and he didn't want to be a burden. He didn't want to go back to his cupboard.

Draco walked Harry backward and eased him back onto the bed.

"Dray, I don't... I can..." Harry started, flustered. But that was all he could manage before doubling over the bin for the third time. Scorpius, still in Teddy's arms began whimpering again and Draco moved away from Harry to gather the baby in his arms.

"Oh, dear. You feel a bit warm too, huh, little guy?"

"Is he okay?" Teddy sniffed. The nine-year-old was looking extremely pale again, and Draco wondered how long he'd been looking after Scorpio with Harry being so out of it. Thank Merlin Ted wasn't sicker, and that he'd had the good sense to call for help.

Draco realized dejectedly that he should have taken his conversation with his mother more seriously. Sighing gently, he looked at his oldest son's glassy eyes. "Everyone's going be fine, we all just need some rest."

He turned back to glance at Harry, who's stomach was beginning to settle. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and was still panting exhaustedly.

"Harry, why don't you lay down for a bit? I'm gonna get Scorp and Teddy settled, and then I'll be back, okay?" Harry just looked up at him for a moment, dazed.

Draco needed to check his husband's fever. The way he was acting had Draco pretty worried. He helped Harry lay flat on their bed, and then ushered Teddy back into his room. He could feel Scorpius's head getting heavy on his shoulder. Draco watched as Teddy crawled back under his covers.

"Can I get you anything babe? Soup? Or a cold pop?

Teddy coughed tiredly. "I'm tired Daddy. I just want to sleep."

Draco felt Teddy's forehead, which was warm, but not terribly so. He pulled his wand out of its pocket in his robes and accio'd a pepperup potion from their bathroom medicine cabinet. It won't cure him, but Draco thought it might ease his symptoms for a couple of hours. "Ted, I think this might make you feel better Can you drink this for Daddy?"

The boy nodded and drank the potion obediently. "There's a good boy. Any better?"

Teddy swallowed, thinking. "I think so. But could I have some juice too?"

"Of course you can," he replied, smiling. He leaned down to kiss Teddy's forehead.

After staying with Teddy for a little while to reassure him and make him as comfortable as possible, Draco carried Scorpius into the nursery. He peeked in at Harry as he passed the master bedroom and saw that his husband was asleep.

'Good,' he thought. 'He needs it.' Draco sat them both down on the rocking chair and conjured a bottle of warm milk, but after a few moments, he accepted that Scorpius wasn't interested. Draco didn't push as it seemed nausea was a major part of this flu. So he just sat there rocking his baby gently and humming to himself as he worried over the harsh coughing he could hear coming from Harry in the next room. It took only about 15 minutes for Scorpius's eyes begin blinking drowsily up at him. Draco placed him down in his crib just as he was falling asleep, and covered him with a light blanket. He would need to come back to check his temperature soon, but first Draco needed to see to Harry.

Walking into the master bedroom, Draco saw that Harry was shivering, even under the mess of blankets. His dark hair laid flat and stuck to his forehead. As much as Draco wanted to let him rest, he needed to check his fever, and probably try to get some potions into him.

"Harry...?" Draco sat down on the bed and rubbed his hand up and down the length of his husband's arm, to get him to stir, but Harry just moaned incoherently. Draco frowned, looking down at Harry. He could feel the heat radiating off of the man, even though his thick Weasley sweater. Draco used a diagnostic spell to check for a fever. 103.8. That was hot, too hot for an adult. Draco wracked his brain, trying to decide what he should do.

He doubted that he would be able to get Harry to swallow a fever reducer, and even if he could there was no telling whether Harry's stomach would actually stay put and let the potion do its job. Instead, he pushed the blankets down gingerly peeled Harry's sweater off conjuring a cool compress. Harry's body was trembling, and he made a small noise of discomfort. Draco whispered calmly to soothe him as he dabbed the compress over his forehead and chest.

"Shh, it's alright. We just gotta cool you down a little bit, and then you'll feel better," Draco sighed. "How did you get so sick so fast, huh? You seemed fine enough yesterday." Harry was too headstrong for his own good. Draco knew enough about medicine to know that symptoms didn't usually get this bad overnight and with a jolt, he realized that Harry could have been hiding the brunt of it for days.

Clearly he hadn't been paying enough attention to his husband. He'd been going on and on about how busy the apothecary had been, and how families needed him to keep making potions. He even said it yesterday when he was passively trying to get Harry to admit to being ill. Sure, yesterday he'd been joking, but it was just like Harry to put everyone ahead of himself.

Angrily, Draco wondered how he had been careless enough as to miss all the signs that his husband hadn't been doing well before yesterday.

Draco sat with him for over an hour. He used a spell to cool the compress over and over, but it didn't seem to make a difference. Harry's fever wouldn't break. Should he try to spell a fever reducer into him after all? For a moment, Draco considered calling his own mother over to help. Or maybe Molly?

"Daddy?" A little voice called to Draco from down the hall.

"Yeah, Ted. I'm in with Papa." Draco leaned down to press a kiss to Harry's head. He was going to call a healer if he didn't see any change soon. Behind him, he could hear Teddy's little feet padding into the room. "Hey, Buddy. You okay?"

Teddy looked up at him wearily. "I had a nightmare. And I'm worried about papa."

"Papa's gonna be okay. He's sleeping now. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"My throat really hurts".

"Here, drink some more water." Draco picked his wand up from the covers of the bed and conjured Teddy a small glass of water. "Are you hungry? He mentioned with a smile.

"No, I don't wanna eat. I don't wanna make my belly sick".

"What about something small? A popsicle?" Draco suggested, and he saw the briefest flash in his son's eyes that told him that a popsicle would do just the trick. He chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes, what color will it be?"

"Umm... an orange one."

"You got it" Draco replied. "Why don't you lay here next to Papa and I'll go get us some popsicles, okay?"

Teddy nodded, Draco and turned to head downstairs to the kitchen.

"Daddy..." Teddy called, as Draco was halfway downstairs.

"Yeah, Ted?"

"Love you."

"I love you too".

Several hours later, Draco was pacing the length of the hallway, with Scorpius on his hip. Thankfully the baby's fever hadn't gone up, and although he was obviously uncomfortable, his body was fighting the virus normally. Teddy had been up for a while reading a storybook, but after taking a few potions, Draco settled him back to his own little bed where he eventually fell back asleep, which Draco was glad for. The boy needed his rest.

Harry, however, had not woken up, and Draco was worried. His fever was still dangerously high and Draco wanted to bring him to St. Mungo's, but he needed to find someone to sit with the kids. He firecalled Molly, but she was busy helping Angelina nurse George and baby Fred back to health.

He really wanted to try and keep his mother from getting exposed. Pansy was off traveling with Ginny and the Harpies, Blaise was already helping him over at the apothecary. Draco doubted that Ron or Hermione would be available. They would probably both be at work at the ministry, but Draco was getting desperate. Harry's fever was reading in at 103.6, so it was worth a try. Placing Scorpius back in his crib, Draco paced back into the bedroom, glancing at Harry who was shivering despite the heat his body was generating.

Draco kneeled down in front of the bedroom fireplace and tried firecalling Hermione at her office in the Department of Mysteries, but there was no answer. She must be home then. Draco hoped that their family wasn't as sick as his was right now. He tried their house.

Finally, he watched as Hermione's face appeared in the fire. Draco could see even through the flames that her normally wild hair was even frizzier at the moment.

"Hermione, thank god. I'm surprised you're home."

"Yes, well, me too. Rose and Hugo are a bit under the weather at the moment."

"Let me guess. The flu?" Draco sighed.

"Yes. Picked it up from George's kids. They are dealing well enough. Still bickering over their toys, so I take that as a good sign. I did go to pick up some potions at your shop earlier. Blaise said you guys have it too?"

"-Hermione," Ron's voice sounded from another room in the Weasley home. "Do we have any more tissues?"

"Closet in the downstairs bathroom."

"Is Ron sick?" Draco asked.

"No, no we just agreed that it would be better to both stay home with the kids, in case anyone gets any worse. Fleur's kids had this last week and she was warning us that it comes on rather quickly."

"You can say that again. Look, I know this is asking a lot, but could you please watch Teddy and Scorpius-" Draco started, but Harry interrupted Draco's request with a sudden bout of harsh coughing. After a moment, Draco realized that Harry wasn't stopping. His coughs were coming out too quickly, and it didn't sound like Harry was getting much air in between them. Draco swiveled around and rushed to Harry's side as Hermione looked on from the fire. He pulled Harry up into a sitting position, and rubbed his back, trying to calm him and get his breathing back under control. Finally, Harry's coughing slowed, and he opened his eyes for the first time in hours.

"Mal...Malfoy?" Harry choked out. His emerald eyes grew wide as if in shock and he scrambled back from Draco. Draco grabbed his husband's wrist before he toppled himself over the other side of the bed. Merlin, even his wrist felt like it could burn through Draco's palm.

"Malfoy... what the fuck? Where am I? Let go of me!" Harry yelled, struggling. Draco felt a chill rush down his body. 'Malfoy...?' He thought, 'We haven't called each other by our surnames in years!"

"Easy Harry! It's okay, shh-"

Harry pulled his arm from Draco's grasp.

"Get away from me!"

"Harry, you're sick. You're obviously confused! I'm trying to help!"
They were both yelling now.

"I'm not going to listen to anything a bloody death eater wannabe has to say."

Draco inhaled sharply. Harry was so sick he didn't even...remember?
Their yelling startled Scorpius, who began to cry loudly in the next room.

"Harry!" Hermione was suddenly standing right behind Draco, though he hadn't heard her come through the floo. "Harry, calm down. Draco cares about you, he is trying to help you! You are very sick right now." Hermione could that her friend was white as a ghost. There was panic and confusion written all over his face.

"Like hell he cares!" Harry barked, pausing to cough into his sleeve. "He's probably the one that kidnapped us here in the first place. Where are we? We have to get back to Hogwarts!"

"...Holy fuck" Draco whispered quietly to himself.

Draco looked over his shoulder and saw that Teddy was standing in the doorframe, his wide fear filled eyes glancing back and forth between his parents.

Hermione took a deep breath. "He didn't kidnap us, but I agree, we... er...we do need to get back to Hogwarts". Hermione lied, glancing sideways at Draco. As smart as ever, Hermione had realized that going along with whatever Harry was imagining would be a lot easier than freaking him out.

"We have to bring him to Mungo's, now Draco! What do we need to bring with us?" Hermione whispered.

"I don't know..." Draco started, as if in a trance. He stared into the bright and glassy emerald eyes which were glaring back at him. His husband was covered in sweat. He looked sicker than Draco had ever seen him, and he was terrifying. It was as if his husband had transformed back into his sixteen year old self. Draco turned quickly away to start packing Harry a bag to bring with them to St. Mungo's, but he was so worried he could barely think straight. If Harry's fever was so high he was forgetting literal years of information, then Draco probably should have gotten him to St. Mungo's hours ago.

Harry suddenly doubled over and Hermione put the bin under his head in perfect time. She held him until he was finished, and then banished the mess.

"...he probably ...poisoned us or something..." Harry mumbled angrily, taking deep breaths.

The room was quiet for a long moment as Draco scrambled to pack a hospital bag. Finally, the silence was broken by Teddy's fear-filled voice.
"...Papa?"

Hermione and Draco both sucked in a breath, looking over to Teddy. Would Harry recognize his children right now?

For a moment, Harry just blinked. "Hey, Ted," the man answered weakly.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Teddy climb up onto the bed and slide into Harry's arms. Harry remembered his son, so that was a good sign. He went back to packing in silence. Walking over to the dresser, Draco reached a drawer and pulled out Harry's favorite pair of flannel pajamas, the red ones with the golden snitch pattern.

"Harry, can you put these on for me? He placed the clothes on the bed in front of Harry, and then took Teddy's hand to guide him away so Harry could have some space to change. Suddenly, Harry was yanking Teddy closer to himself and out of Draco's reach.

"Get your filthy hands off my kid, Malfoy!"

Tears formed in Teddy's eyes and he just stared at Draco, not understanding what was going on. To be honest, Draco didn't understand much of it either. How could Harry remember the boys but not his own husband?

"It's okay, Harry". Hermione interrupted, as Draco just stood there, shocked. "You change your clothes and I'm gonna go bring Teddy back to his room, ok? You change." Harry allowed Hermione to scoop Teddy into her arm and carry him back to his room.

"Do you ... um ..." Draco mumbled, knowing full well how Harry would respond to him. "Do you want some help?" Draco wasn't convinced that Harry would actually have the strength to change his clothes on his own right now.

"Not from you, Malfoy! Are you insane? Get the fuck out!"

"I uh ..." he sighed. "Alright. I'll go. But please... let me know if you need anything. I'll be just outside the door." Draco lingered for a moment, his brow furrowing as more harsh coughs took over Harry's body. He walked hesitantly out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Draco was back to pacing the hallway when Hermione returned from tucking Teddy back in bed.

"So," Hermione whispered, "he doesn't remember."

"No, Hermione. It's really bad. His fever is too high."

"I know."

Draco sighed and stared seriously Hermione. "It scares me," he admitted.

Hermione smiled reassuringly at him, pausing for a moment before answering. If anyone had told her as a teenager that years down the line, her and Draco Malfoy would come to rely on one another, basically as in-laws, she would have laughed in their face.

"It's gonna be alright," she replied. "The flu's been really tough this year. You said so yourself, Draco. And I know Harry's reacting weirdly, but when has our boy ever just been average?" Hermione smiled up at him comfortingly and placed a hand gently on his shoulder for added effect. "He'll be okay."

"Yeah. Thanks, Hermione. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The pair was suddenly interrupted by a crash from inside the room.

"Harry! You alright?" Draco came busting in to see Harry sitting on the floor in his boxers, his pajama pants pulled up halfway.

"I fell," was all Harry could manage. Draco lifted him back on the bed and helped him pull up the waistband of his pants before Harry even had time to blink. The fall seemed to shake Harry back into reality and he leaned forward, placing his warm forehead against Draco's chest. "Dray ... I don't feel good."

"I know, love. I know. I'm gonna get you better, I promise." Draco brushed a stray lock of hair out of Harry's eyes. "Hermione?"

"Everything okay?" she replied, entering the room.

"Yes, but we need to leave right now."

Hermione nodded. "Don't worry about the boys, they're in good hands."

Hermione handed Draco the messenger bag he'd packed for Harry, which he slung over his shoulder. "Okay Har. I'm going to side-along you to St. Mungo's. Can you stand?"

Harry tried to lift himself up off of the bed, but his muscles wouldn't offer him much support. After a few moments of struggling, he gave up and looking down at the floor, whispered a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Draco scooped him into their arms, and with a pop, the men were gone. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. That was just about as bad as she'd ever seen Harry. They all needed him to be okay.

It took two days before Harry came out from the haze of the flu. When he did, the first thing he noticed was the annoying beeping he heard, and the second thing was the smell. It was an uncomfortably clean hospital smell, which meant he was at Mungo's. Harry remembered waking up here often when he was on the field as an Auror. But he hadn't been admitted here in years, not since he'd left work to stay home with the boys. What happened?

Groaning in effort, Harry rolled to his side to get a better look at his surroundings. He was definitely in St. Mungo's, in a single room of his own. Harry had come to learn a single room meant that whatever had happened to him had been serious and that he'd probably been out for some time.

Harry saw that had an IV in his arm, connected to the machine that was endlessly beeping. And then he saw his husband, curled uncomfortably in a chair next to his bed, fast asleep. Although his muscles ached with every move, Harry reached out and took Draco's hand into his own. Draco's eyes snapped open at his husband's touch.

"Harry! You're awake!" Draco uncurled himself from the bed and rushed to Harry's side. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright," he choked out.

"Can I get you anything?"

"You look tired," Harry commented, ignoring Draco's question.

"Classic," Draco scowled at him, "still putting everyone before yourself, even as we're sat the bloody hospital." Now that the worst of it was over for Harry, Draco could feel his frustration bubbling up to the surface.

"You wanna fill me in on why we're here this time?"

Draco sighed. "What do you last remember?"

"Teddy was sick, and you were working. And then your mother came by and handed off Scorpius after he started showing symptoms."

"Cut to you getting so sick that you didn't even remember us being married." Draco grumbled.

"I did what!" Harry sat up, clearly shocked. Unfortunately for him, he sat up far too quickly for someone who had been laying in a hospital bed for days. He immediately got dizzy and held a hand to his head to stabilize himself.

"Easy, Harry. No fast movements." Draco reached out to cup Harry's cheek. "You've been in and out of it for 2 days. You had nearly a 104-degree fever, your body shut down to try and protect your brain from getting cooked. We... we've all been really worried."

Harry looked down at his lap. His fingers worried at the blanket for a moment. "Are the boys any better?" Harry finally asked.

"They are both on the mend. They've been staying over at Ron and Hermione's. Thank Merlin for the two of them."

"Draco," Harry bit his lip before a series of coughs interrupted his thoughts. Draco waited patiently and handed him a glass of water for him to sip on.
"Draco, I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, I bet." Draco bit out, although most of his venom had fallen away. "I know that you are probably still not feeling your best, but do you have any idea how upsetting it is for me that you never seem to let me in and tell me what's going on?"

"I didn't want to worry you."

"I'd rather be worried like a normal husband than be left guessing when you are about to be on your deathbed."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the comforter.

"When did you realize that you were catching the flu? The night you fell asleep on the couch?"

"Er... probably like 3 days before that."

"As in, like, 2 days before Teddy got sick?" Draco asked incredulously.

"The kids and I were over at George and Angelina's, and then Freddy said he wasn't feeling well, and... er, yeah. I guess I felt it the next day."

Harry looked up just in time to Draco's face fall in disappointment. He felt a knot of guilt twist up in his stomach that had nothing to do with his flu.

"Harry, you just... You never seem to get it. You are the most important person in my life, I can't live without you. The least you could do is let me know when you need my help." After a moment, he added, "Merlin, you're turning me into a sentimental bloody Hufflepuff!"

"I thought I could handle it, Draco. I didn't want to be a burden."

Draco shifted them both so that he was lounging next to Harry on the hospital bed. He reached for his husband's hand, and Harry sniffed once and let his head fall onto Draco's shoulder.

"Harry, I love you. You aren't a burden. You aren't with the Dursley's anymore." He squeezed Harry's hand. "We all cherish you." Draco pointed to a corner of the room where there were cards and piles of sweets. "You've had so many visitors in the past few days."

Harry turned to look, and squeezed Draco's hand back.

"That's so nice. But to be honest, all I want to do go home. I want to curl up in our bed with all three of my boys. And I want to have a bowl of your mother's sick-day-soup."

"Well, I guess it's gonna be my job to negotiate your freedom out of here then." Draco smiled and leaned down to kiss Harry's warm forehead. "After your fever is completely gone, that is."

Harry chuckled, though he felt himself getting tired again. He pulled the blankets tighter around himself.

"But just so you know, Potter," Draco said, poking the brunette jokingly in the ribs, "if you ever scare me like this again, I swear I'll kill you myself."

"Yeah, right," Harry laughed sleepily. "You wouldn't have the courage."

"You're undermining my bravery, Potter?" He smirked down at his sick husband, whose eyes were now fluttering closed. "What are you, scared?"

"You wish."

Fin.