Disclaimer: Once again, I own no parts of Harry Potter. I just enjoy it.
A/N: A big thank you to my kind reviewers. Since you have taken the time to read and review my story, the least I can do is reply back to you. By the way, these chapters are not written in advance so it may take a couple of days in between postings. But I promise to update as often as I can. So if you have any suggestions or directions you would like to see this story go, please let me know and I will try to incorporate them into the story.
ILOVERON4EVER: Thanks. Here you go. Hope you enjoy this one as well.
Rockchick1232: Yeah, me too. Ron and Hermione are my favorite too, but I can't leave out Harry and Ginny. Glad you like it so far!
Joots: Thanks! It's fluff, I know, but I like fluff. Especially with peanut butter.
Dragonfly-child: I'm sure he will feel better in a while, but I'm not quite done with his illness yet (evil grin). But don't worry, Hermione will make him feel a little better ;) Thanks for reading, and I'll update again soon, just for you.
Emma: Thanks Emma. Glad you like it
BuckNC: Thank you so much! Hope you like the rest of the story as well.
Aihead14: I'm really, really glad you like it so much. Another update, coming your way.
Chapter 3: I can't fight this feeling anymore
Ron sat up straight on the sofa when he heard Hermione returning from the bedroom. He didn't want to let her know that he wasn't feeling well. She was carrying a book in her hands as she sat back on the sofa next to him. He thought 'Same old Hermione, nose in a book. Hope it's not Hogwarts: A history.'
"Ron, I wanted to show you this. I made a scrapbook of some of our old pictures from school. Look, here's the three of us in second year." Ron was surprised that Hermione had kept all of those old pictures. As she flipped through seven years of pictures, Ron tried his best to engage in conversation about old times. Unfortunately, his plan to will his queasiness away wasn't working. He had broken out in a cold sweat and his mouth was watering. Hopefully he could hold out for a few more minutes and then make his exit. He didn't want Hermione to watch him get sick.
"And can you believe Hagrid and his 'little brother'? I mean, honestly...Ron, are you alright?" Hermione had finally noticed the pained expression on Ron's face.
"What? Oh, um..."
"Ron, you look so pale, and you're sweating. Are you feeling ill?"
"Truthfully, I'm not feeling very well. My stomach is a bit upset. As much as I've enjoyed this evening, I think it would be best if I made my leave."
"Oh Ron, I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me sooner? I hope it wasn't my cooking."
"No, dinner was wonderful. I think it started before I came. I was feeling a little queasy at home, but I thought that it was just that I was nervous about tonight. I think I might be coming down with some sort of stomach bug and I don't want to get you sick." Ron stood up to leave, but a wave of dizziness struck him and he had to sit back down.
"Ron, you can't apparate like that. You can't even stand up on your own. And you certainly can't use the floo network. If you weren't sick before, you certainly would be after that. Why don't you let me call Harry, and we can apparate you home."
"Harry's not home. He and Ginny were going out tonight, but I don't remember where. I'll be fine." Ron lied. He was anything but fine.
"Don't be stupid. You'll never make it. And I don't think I can manage you by myself. I can always call your parents."
"In Romania, visiting Charlie. So are the twins."
"Oh dear. Well then, you'll just have to stay here."
If it were possible, Ron would have paled even more. The last thing he wanted to do was vomit in the company of the girl of his dreams. Any chance for romance would be killed when she witness that spectacular sight. Oh Yeah, Ron - red hair, funny bloke, terribly loud when vomiting. Who could resist that?
"Hermione, I can't stay here. I'll get you sick."
"Ron, if you're worried about getting me sick, don't. You certainly can't help it if you're ill." Then it dawned on her. "Are you worried about your masculinity if I see you ill? I would never think less of you. Haven't we seen each other in much worse states during the war and during all of our encounters with Voldemort?"
Hermione had a point. Ron resigned himself to the facts that he was A. Sick as a dog, B. Would shortly be seeing every meal he had eaten in the last day or so again and C. Would be displaying said stomach contents in Hermione Granger's toilet bowl. Fan bloody tastic.
"Why don't I make you some ginger and peppermint tea to try and settle your stomach. I'll add some Stomach Settling Potion as well. That should make you feel a bit better. Why don't you have a lie down in my bed. I'll wake you when the tea is ready."
"Hermione, the sofa is fine. I'll be perfectly comfortable.." but Hermione cut him off. "Don't be stupid. You're much too tall to be scrunched up on the sofa. Besides, the bathroom is much closer to the bed than it is to the sofa." She assisted Ron to stand up and placed her arms around him to steady him while they made their way to the bedroom. She pulled the covers back and gently helped Ron to lie back.
"I dreamed of being in your bed Hermione, but this isn't exactly what I'd imagined. Just a joke" Ron added, before Hermione could swat him. But instead of her usual indignation, she simply smiled at her sick friend. "Not exactly what I'd imagined for your first time in my bed either." Ron ginned back at her.
Hermione sat down on the side of the bed and placed her hand over Ron's sweaty forehead. "Feels like you have a fever. I'll grab a flannel for your forehead." Hermione returned from the bathroom and gently placed the flannel on Ron's head. "How's that?"
"Mmm, better."
"How's your stomach feeling?"
"Like I've been on the Knight bus for days. Now I know how Madam March always feels. Honestly, if I were her, I'd look into alternate forms of transportation." Ron did his best to lighten the mood, but he was miserable "My stomach's churning and I've got a killer stomach ache."
"Does it hurt anywhere in particular?" Hermione asked, with a concerned expression on her face.
"All over, really."
"I really hope it wasn't the calamari. Although if it was food poisoning, I suppose that I'd be sick as well."
"Hermione, do you think you could stop talking about food?" Ron said, turning a delicate shade of green and holding his stomach.
"Sorry. Poor Ron. I wish you were feeling better."
"That makes two of us." Ron said, swallowing the saliva that was building up in his mouth.
"I'll go work on that tea. Why don't you try and get some rest."
"Thanks Hermione."
Hermione returned to the kitchen and gathered the ingredients she would need for the stomach soothing tea. However, when she looked for the potion, she realized that she was out. 'Of all times to run low' she thought to herself. She returned to the bedroom. "Ron, I'm out of Stomach Settling potion. I'll just pop down to the store to get some more. I won't be long."
"Alright" was all he could manage through the haze of being semi awake.
Hermione hadn't been gone long when Ron's eyes opened wide. His stomach was giving up on the battle to keep it's contents and he could taste the bile in his mouth. He clamped a hand to his mouth a ran toward the bathroom. Luckily Hermione had insisted that he sleep in her bed as it was much closer to the toilet. And it was a good thing, as he just made it. He heaved and retched what seemed like several hours, but in fact had been only a few minutes. Every time he stopped and thought he was finished, a fresh wave of nausea would hit and he would retch again. 'At least Hermione is out now so she won't witness this part.' He had no sooner thought it when he heard a faint "pop" from the other room. Hermione was back. 'Bloody hell, just my luck..'
Hermione entered the bedroom to let Ron know she was back with the potion. She discovered he wasn't in bed and knew immediately where to look. She walked in the bathroom and saw Ron slumped in front of the toilet, holding on for dear life. "Ron, are you alright?" Ron lifted his head up weakly, and gave Hermione a look that melted her heart. "Oh Ron. You poor dear," was all she could manage to say. "I think I'm going to be sick again," Ron said as he lowered his head over the toilet. She grabbed another wet flannel, knelt down next to him, placed the flannel to his forehead, and rubbed his back as another wave of sickness hit.
A/N: That's all for today, kids. Please review. The more reviews I get, the faster I write.