Forever the Golden Trio

Hermione and Ron followed Healer Drinkwater out of Bianca's room. They walked quietly to the living room where the Healer turned to them.

"She's a strong little girl. Not to worry; she'll make a full recovery."

"You're about to say 'but', aren't you?" Ron asked.

Drinkwater nodded. "This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. Make sure she keeps drinking water. Only water—anything else will make her sicker."

"How many kids develop this?"

"Vulciuryse Syndrome? About one in every six thousand wizard children. No one knows why, but the good news is that she'll never get this again and it's not contagious, so your boys are safe."

"Small favors," Hermione nodded. "Thanks so much for your help."

"Not at all," Drinkwater said. "Send me an owl if you have any more questions."

"Will do. Thanks again," Ron said.

The Healer tipped his hat to them and walked to the porch, Disapparating with a small pop.

Ron closed the door behind him and pulled Hermione into a hug. "See? She's going to be fine. Just fine."

"I know. I was so scared."

"Mummy?" a little voice said.

Breaking apart, they saw Mordred standing behind them. Both smiled at the two-year-old, who had Ron's worried expression on his face. Hermione bent down and he ran into her arms.

"B still sick?"

"Yeah, she is. But she's going to get better, okay? No worries."

"Kay!" Mordred said. He squirmed away from Hermione and ran over to his play mat.

"I'm going to write back to Harry," Hermione said.

"Alright. I'll go check on Bianca again."

Hermione nodded and went into the kitchen. On the counter was the letter she'd received that morning from Harry. The Cardiff Dragons were playing an away match today, but after he'd heard about Bianca's illness Harry had considered coming home. She glanced over the note again:

What do you mean she has a 103 fever? Has it gone down yet? When did the shape-changing start? Is she Bianca again? Do you need me to come home? I'm packing right now. Love you guys, Harry.

Bianca's fever had gone down and the Healer arrived after that, and Hermione'd sent him a Patronus telling him to stay in Cardiff for the moment. Under her assurance that he would be immediately informed of all updates, Harry had relented and stayed with the team. Hermione picked up a pen and found some spare parchment in the drawer. She walked back into the living room where Mordred was playing with rubber blocks and sat down to write.

Hi Harry,

Bianca's going to be fine. Apparently she's got this super-rare thing called Vulciuryse Syndrome. It causes kids to go through a flu-like period where their magic manifests itself in powerful, strange ways. In Bianca's case, it's shape changing. 1 in 6000 get it, but it's a once in a lifetime thing, according to the Healer. It's kind of like how kids shoot off magic randomly, only in this case it's condensed to a certain type of magic while she's sick. He said to keep her drinking water. When he checked on her, he said she'll probably be in this for another week or so. Hope your game went well. We'll be in touch if anything changes. Love, Hermione.

She sealed it and went to the window. Whistling loudly, she watched as one of the mail owls came zooming toward her. She watched it fly out of sight with her letter and turned to her son, who was making destruction noises as he knocked down his tower of blocks.

"Can I play too?" she asked him.

"You have pu-ple," Mordred said, pushing the blocks toward her. He continued building with the red and green.
"Thanks," Hermione said, chuckling.

Ron came down the stairs at that moment. He looked like he didn't know whether to be amused or frightened.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Er…teddy bear."

"Really?"

"She matches the Hogwarts bear we got her last Christmas."

"This is bizarre."

*

Harry tossed his bag on the floor under the cloak hooks. Excited though he was, he had to be quiet. Waking three kids (one of whom was sick) at three in the morning probably wasn't a good idea. He tiptoed through the living room to the kitchen and opened the fridge. The bright refrigerator light blinded him for a moment, but his eyes adjusted quickly. He grabbed the loaf of bread and milk and set about making some toast. Humming to himself, he poured a large glass of water and chugged it down. He poured another glass as his toast came shooting out of the small appliance. Catching it on a plate, he turned toward the sound of footsteps. "Hey Ron," he said, beaming.

"Morning," his husband said, yawning. "Why are you grinning like the Cheshire Cat?"

"Three words."

"Yes?" Ron prompted, stealing a bite of Harry's toast.

"Quidditch. World. Cup."

Ron choked and spat out the bread. For a moment, a disbelieving look colored Ron's face. Then, slowly, a wide smile spread across it. With a slightly breathless laugh, Ron tackled Harry into a hug, knocking him against the counter. He gave the Boy Who Lived a searing kiss and ruffled his hair. "Are you serious?" he squeaked. "Well done! Wales versus…?"

"Don't know yet," Harry said, holding a finger to his lips so Ron would quiet down again. "It'll be either France or Greece. Personally, I hope it's Greece. I hate playing France; they play dirty. Anyway, enough of that. How's our princess?"

"Fluffy. She keeps turning into stuffed animals. She turns back every time she sneezes, but I think it's frightening her. She was a giraffe a while ago. I'm flooring it in her room so Hermione can get some sleep. We want to keep an eye on her."

"Aye. You go catch some sleep. I'll stay with her. I won't be able to sleep for a while anyway."

"Cheers. Night, Harry."

"G'night Ron."

LbN: All I really need is ice cream and reviews!!!