A/N: I don't own Harry Potter

This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Writing Club December

Assorted Appreciation: 20 - It's A Wonderful Life - Write about a guardian angel. - Alt - Write about someone realising their life isn't as bad as they think - or seeing the bright side of things

Scamander's Case: 8 - (trope) huddling for warmth

Winter Funfair

Southern Funfair – Magical Mistletoe – (Hermione/Flora Carrow)

Eastern Funfair – Cookies for Santa - Sugar Cookie - (dialogue) "You make an excellent pillow."

Northern Funfair – Wanna Build a Snowman – Middle Snowball - (trope) Huddling for Warmth

Word Count: 831

Hot. It was so hot, all she wanted was to lay down, make her head stop spinning for a minute. She had just left charms and somehow managed to get turned around. It didn't help that the staircases had decided to shift again. She sank to her knees on the stone floor. The stone floor was cold, nice and cold. She lay on her back staring up at the ceiling. She could see spiderwebs in the corners of the corridor.

The coldness seemed to make the ache in her back lessen slightly. She knew she was sick, knew she should figure out a way to get to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey had announced the start of cold and flu season, same as every year. There was a full stock of Pepper-up! Potions and fever reducers.

Hermione closed her eyes, happy that for a moment, she was not coughing. Something brushed against her face. Thinking it was a cobweb, Hermione brushed it aside.

"Whatcha doing?" a pretty sounding voice asked. Hermione blinked her eyes open slowly. She was met with a pair of baby blue eyes looking down at her. The girl they belonged to's hair was dangling down over Hermione's face.

"Making the room stand still," Hermione answered trying to figure out who the girl was. She looked familiar.

"Oh, it's spinning? No, it's standing still. You must be spinning. Or it's no longer spinning because you're laying on the floor," the girl said. Hermione blinked. The logic of that sentence making her head hurt a little.

"The floor is cold, it feels good."

"That I believe! Your cheeks are really flushed, your eyes are a bit glazed. Fever's caught you, hasn't it?" she asked, pulling her hair from her face a bit. Hermione could see a Slytherin tie around her neck.

"Probably. Who are you?"

"Flora. Flora Owlina Carrow. I know who you are, Hermione Granger; also known as the Gryffindor Princess. I think the title suits you. You look like a princess!" Flora exclaimed with a smile.

"I think you must be feverish too, or just delusional. I don't look anything like a princess," Hermione snapped. Flora shrugged and laid down on the floor next to Hermione. She looked over at the Gryffindor girl.

"Maybe I do have a fever? I'd ask you to check, but I don't think you'd be able to tell since I can feel the heat radiating from yours just laying next to you. So, what do you want to do?"

"To do?"

"About our fevers, we could go to Madame Pomfrey, but that would involve standing and the whole world spinning again."

"It's not like we really have a choice," Hermione muttered wondering why Flora smelled like vanilla. Maybe it was just the fever?

"We could wait for someone to notice us missing and come find us and rescue us. Ohhh, you make such a pretty damsel in distress! I wish I could ride in on a white horse and rescue you myself!"

"I don't really like horses," Hermione whispered. "Don't tell anyone though. I'm supposed to, but they're really big and kind of scary."

"I won't tell anyone! So, we either wait to be rescued or save ourselves while the room spins around us?"

"I don't think anyone's going to come save us. What about we sleep here and wait for our fevers to break on their own?"

"I like that idea! But I kind of need a pillow, do you have one?"

"No, why would I have a pillow?" Hermione asked looking over at Flora confused.

"You never know when there might be a pillow fight? I'm shivering... is that normal?"

"For a fever, yes. Here, scoot a little closer," Hermione suggested pulling Flora against her. Flora snuggled against Hermione.

"You're really hot," she murmured.

"And you're freezing!" Hermione exclaimed hugging Flora tightly. "Stay against me, I'll keep us both warm with this stupid fever. What were you even doing here anyway? It's not like this corridor is used very much."

"Oh, I was looking for you. I noticed you weren't at lunch, and I thought you might need rescuing. Looks like you're saving me instead," Flora replied.

"Looks like. Flora, um, if we're both better by next weekend, and you're not just some insane fever dream, would you like to come to the Slug Club party with me?"

"As a friend?" Flora asked raising her head slightly. Hermione shook hers.

"No, actually, I want you to come as my date, if that's not too forward?'

"I would love to go with you, Hermione! As long as I don't have to save you between now and then?"

"No promises," Hermione laughed softly. Her laughter turned into a hacking cough. Flora curled back against Hermione rubbing her back slightly.

"Sleep, we should both sleep. You make an excellent pillow," Flora stated closing her baby blue eyes. Hermione smiled at the girl in her arms. Maybe being rescued by Flora was worth the flu?