Of Fevers and Men
She was delusional with fever, wearing nothing but the thinnest of tank tops and shorts that were barely that. Logically she knew that it was about -1° C, and therefore pretty damn cold outside. Cold, still, in the castle (about 13° C). Her skin felt as though it were on fire. Her head ached, there was pain in her lower back, and her throat felt as though she hadn't had anything to drink in years. She kept calling out for help, but no one appeared to hear her plea. Her roommates were sound asleep, along with the rest of the castle, and she had no idea she was really wandering around defenseless.
The furthest thing from her mind was being caught by her teachers, of which the consequences would be great. Ever since the attack on Hogwarts, the remaining teachers took every little crime seriously. This was a big crime with big consequences. Things were bad in the wizarding world and was only getting worse. One never knew how safe they were, even at Hogwarts.
She shouted to no one in particular. The fever made her believe that someone was there. She could see him, fuzzy and blonde and kind of good-looking. It entered her mind that she'd never been alone with a man with her clothes on, let alone with her clothes off. Funny she didn't mind.
Her words left her mouth without her thinking of them.
"I should mind that I'm here with you alone… but I don't. It's different than being with Harry, with people all around us. A good different, I should say…"
The man, who ever he was, reached out to turn her around. She heard him mumble to go back to her room, rest some.
"I think you just don't love me… no one does…" Her voice was scratchy from the pain, and every time she talked she winced. Still, there was nothing that could shut her up. "Just the little sister to everyone, I am… Do you know that in America people measure temperature in a different way… Why, I bet it's 100° there right now…"
She knew somewhere in her mind that she was not imagining this person anymore. He kept telling her to keep quiet, the teachers will come and find them there, go back to bed, and you'll feel better in the morning. He seemed familiar in this haze, she knew she could trust him. No one else did, but she knew she could trust him…
"The rain in Spain falls mainly on the planes… Have you ever
heard that? I'd like to go to Spain someday… Would you take me
there?"
"I can't take you, anywhere, Weasley… Just go
back to bed," she heard him say. It didn't phase her.
"Some day, we'll go to Spain together… Soon, I should hope."
"Never, pet… Now go back to bed."
Eventually she found her way back to bed with the help of the blonde man, who ever he was. In the morning she'd wake up and remember it all as a dream, recalling the blonde man with uncertainty. She'd stay in the infirmary for a few days and think of the dream often… There was nothing more to the story, just her being delusional with fever.
A/N: Story meant to be hazy, like the fever… I imagine it would take place either before she was with Harry or that other guy in HBP or in Harry's 7th year and Draco returned to Hogwarts to keep up appearances. -1° C 30° F, 13° C 56° F.