Title: Look after me

Written by: Angel-Of-Lightness

Summery: Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?

Look after me: Chapter one

Harry was asleep. I sighed, relived. He was quiet, no dreams of terror or death were haunting him, no moans and horrified whispers escaped him. I gently placed my hand on his forehead -he had a fever- and I let out another sigh. He was still ill. Sweat covered his face, almost as if his blood is boiling beneath his skin, making it red and inflamed. He stirred and opened his eyes slightly. I noticed instantly that they weren't green anymore they were...dull, dull with flecks of green. I tilted my head at my description, and laughed to myself. Dull isn't a color, where was my sense?

"Mum?" Harry croaked, painfully delusional.

"No" I took his hand, inwardly cringing at the fact that Harry thought I was his mother, His mother who had been dead for almost his whole life. I planted a soft kiss on his knuckles. "No, Harry, It's me, Hermione" He didn't even move. His sore muscles were too painful to even try to move. "How are you feeling?" I asked, instantly feeling it was a Stupid question.

"Fine" He coughed out, chest heaving and the word audibly scratching against his throat.

I sighed, again. I should have taken up sighing for a living.

"Are you warm enough?" As if to answer my question, He shivered. He shuffled deeper into the mix of sheets and blankets twisted amongst his limbs, as much as his stiff muscles would allow. I pulled an extra blanket from Ron's four- poster, and pulled it over him. A ghost of a smile flittered across his face, but died away just as quickly. He began to cough violently, his chest heaving.

"Harry!" I cried alarmed, pulling him to a sitting position "I really should take you to Madam Pomfrey!"

"No!" He shouted as loud and as forcibly as he could, "No more hospital wings, nothing!"

I didn't understand this, no more of hospital wings? I know he had seen it plenty of times in his life, but didn't he want to get better? I didn't question him, I should have. Where was Hermione? Hermione who would do everything she thought was right? Hermione who wouldn't listen to Harry when he said he was 'fine'? Only an ill Harry could mess her up like that.

I quietly waved my wand, and muttered "Water". A small cup of water appeared on the table, I held it up to his mouth. His hands shook violently as he tried to hold it himself.

"No, Harry, I'll do it" He nodded, too ill to argue. As he finished, another wave of my wand caused the cup to dissolve into air. I laid him down, and sat back on my knees, resting my head on my arms and watching his fluttering eyelids. He never gets ill, Harry never gets ill. In the quietness of the morning; I slowly floated back to the memory of him getting like this.

Hermione sat finishing her Defense against the dark arts homework. 'Write a step-by-step account of a perfectly produced patronus, including the incantation and effect.'

Ron seemed to be poking her every minute to ask her a stupid question,

"What's after the incantation?", "How do you draw that?", "Huh?" and often "Hermione! I'm stuck!"

Hermione put her hands in her hands "RON! SHUT UP!"

"Okay, Okay, I was just-" Ron stopped, the color rushing from his face " Harry? What's up? Harry, mate?"

Hermione looked up –alarmed- for Harry had just stumbled, literally stumbled, into the common room. His dark hair was stuck to his forehead by sweat, his glasses were sliding of his nose and he was a deathly white color.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as he swayed, and fell. "Ron we should get him to the hospital wing!"

"No" Ron shook his head, "Get him to his bed"

"Ron" Hermione frowned "He's ill, we don't know what's wrong with him! We can't help him!"

"Harry won't want to go, He'll be angry-" Ron looked as though he was about to be sick, and Hermione was just about to raise her voice to shout at him, when a weak voice pulled her attention.

"Don't take me to the hospital wing" He swallowed painfully. "Please-"

"Okay Harry, But on your head be it" Hermione exhaled frustrated, she was doubtful, but didn't want to displease him "Ron? Help me carry him to the dorm"

Ron nodded and took Harry's legs.

The whole common room watched as he was carried, and started following them up the steps.

Hermione looked angrily at the gathered crowd "Don't you have anything better to do!"

Many of the students replied "No!", but eventually they all left, grumbling.

I was woken from my half-sleep state by a worried Ron. "How is he?"

"Worse" I shook my head, "Tell McGonagall that he won't be going to lessons again today, tell her...tell her I won't either" What was I saying? Lessons; work was the most important thing to me…but I couldn't tear myself away from him…

Ron looked at me, stunned "You're missing-?"

"Just go!" I said, too tired to explain, or comment on his shock.

He shuffled out of the room, Harry jumped as the door clinked after him, his eyes opening. Cold sweat was now forming on his warm skin.

I sat on the bed, concerned, "Dreaming again, Hun?"

He nodded and settled back on the bed, "You," He said, exhaustion breaking his voice "He tries to take you, always you, he knows"

I suddenly wondered what 'he' knows. 'He' was Voldemort I guessed, But Harry was in no state to question, his eyes were already closed.

I watched him for a few minutes, until I couldn't resist anymore. I needed to wake him up just to be sure.

"Harry?" I said quietly. He stirs, but his eyes stayed shut.

"Harry?" I repeated, a little louder then. His eyes cracked open slightly and I gave him a small smile.

"'Mione" he said, a few coughs followed. I smiled at my pet name and nodded, touching the back of my hand to his forehead. He was definitely warmer.

"Are you all right?" I whispered, already expecting his answer to be that I received every time I asked.

He shook his head, and I blinked.

"I'm beginning to worry." I told him. He looked puzzled at me, and then began to convulse and heave. I jumped, and helped him sit up, conjuring a basin. He took it with shaking hands.

Ten minutes later all he'd brought up was bile.

"Harry, I really think the Hospital wing would be a good idea…"

"No" He coughed, weakly. "Please"

I nodded, worried, I hated to agree but I didn't want to upset him.

"You look a little better anyway." I lied, trying to make him feel better. He shook his head, then quickly stopped, dropping his head into his hands.

"Headache!" He states simply, a small moan escaped his lips.

I conjured him some water, he swallowed it with difficulty. There was not much more I could do without alerting Madam Pomfrey.

"Try and get more sleep, Hun?"

He coughed, but let me help him lie down; He took my hand, looking at me sadly. "Hold me?"

I couldn't help looking surprised, Harry never asked such questions. But he looked so young and vulnerable, I couldn't refuse, I surprised myself even more and agreed, climbed into his bed, and circled my arms around him, he sighed- comfortable for now.

He promptly fell asleep, and I muttered "I love you, Harry, and you scare me"

A/N: To be continued...