Disclaimer: I don't own 'em!

Summary: Harry discovers that there's a silver lining in every cloud, but why does he keep getting sick?

Growing Pains, by Shedoc

The next thing he knew, Harry was lying propped up on high pillows and listening to the bustle of the corridor outside his room. St Mungo's was right up there with the Hospital Wing on Harry's list of least favourite places to wake up, even though this was the first time he'd been admitted to the magical hospital.

His chest ached and each breath was hard won. It felt as if there was about three pints of glue in his lungs and if he breathed too deeply he ended up coughing up what felt like most of his lung. Remus Lupin had been holding his hand tightly, fast asleep, when Harry woke, and the green-eyed teen had been reluctant to wake the clearly exhausted man. His coughing had done that, and Remus had wiped his chin gently and rubbed his chest in a soothing fashion while Harry wheezed and struggled to regain his breath.

"What's wrong with me?" Harry rasped, and Remus hesitated a moment before sitting on his bed and patting his knee.

"You were choking to death on your own vomit when the Weasley twins found you. The Healers say that because you breathed some of it in, your lungs became infected and you've got pneumonia. They're going to give you a lot of potions for it, and you'll be better in a couple of weeks," the werewolf said it calmly, and Harry was grateful that he didn't try to shield the teen from bad news. He'd had enough 'protection' from Dumbledore.

"By school time?" Harry pressed the issue and Remus smiled and nodded. Harry settled back with a sigh, and smiled in return. He didn't want to be too ill to take the Arithmancy test, and certainly didn't want to miss any of the last two years he had in his home.

"Harry, did the Dursley's get a doctor in to see you?" Remus' voice was cold and hard, and Harry tightened his grip on the other man's hand, shaking it slightly to get his full attention.

"I think they were so worried that they'd be blamed for it that they hoped I'd get better by myself. It came on pretty quickly, and I don't think I was too bad at first," he cleared his throat and Remus reached for the glass of water, supporting it as Harry sipped from the glass and savoured the cool relief.

"Well, we'll deal with them later," Remus growled, "Now, Dumbledore wanted you to go to Grimmauld Place the moment you were released from here, but Molly threw a fit the likes of which I've never seen before. You'll be going to the Burrow tomorrow and stay there until its time to go to the school."

Harry heaved a sigh of relief, which set off another round of hacking coughs, leaving him tired and enervated at the end. Remus fussed over him, settling him back into the pillows and smoothing the blankets before resuming his chair and taking Harry's hand once more. The contact was unusual, but Harry was glad the other man felt he could just reach out like that. He was Harry's last link to his parents and the reverse was also true for Lupin. The former professor stayed quiet and Harry slid painlessly into sleep.

He woke again when Fred tripped over the now empty visitors chair, and George told his twin to be more careful.

"I'm awake," Harry mumbled. The twins straightened in the half gloom and Harry realised it was quite late at night.

"Sorry Harry..."

"We just wanted to check in on…."

"Our bit of salvage…"

"On our way home from the shop."

"No problem," Harry reached for the water glass, and Fred handed it over straight away. He took a sip and smiled at the anxious redheads.

"Thanks for the rescue," he put the glass back, "I must have looked a mess."

"Well, we've seen you look better…"

"Not much better mind…"

"But that's not why we're here."

"What's wrong? Is everyone alright?" Harry clenched a hand into a fist and Fred reached out and patted it. George sat in the chair that his brother had knocked over then righted, and Fred perched on the edge of Harry's bed.

"We're all fine, mate…"

"Unless you count Ron…

"He's in a right state…"

"You see mum and dad took Gin-Gin and Ronnikins for a surprise holiday…"

"Take their mind off things…"

"Give them a chance to recover from duelling Death Eaters…"

"And brains…"

"All that good stuff…"

"We miss out on all the fun…"

"Anyway, when they got back…"

"Late in the evening the day before your birthday…"

"They found the letter that you'd sent to Ron…"

"Which Hedwig posted under the kitchen door…"

"Because they'd put wards up to prevent the post owls from finding them while they were away…"

"Ron was in a right state…"

"Apparently Pig was over tired to take a delivery and you know how bad Errol's getting…"

"He'd be more use as a feather duster now…"

"Anyway, he started creating about how you'd think he hated you…"

"And how he'd let you down…"

"Until mum and dad were ready to stun him just to get some peace…"

"We offered to do it…"

"But mum yelled at us…"

"I tell you, we're totally unappreciated in our time…"

"In the end we agreed to pop over to your place to reassure you…"

"Of course you weren't exactly in a fit state for company by then…"

"What with being blue and all…"

"So we trundled you off to the hospital…"

"And called Dumbledore…"

"Once the Healers said you were out of danger Mum went to get your things…"

"And amazingly enough…"

"She left the Dursley's house still standing…"

"Hedwig's already at the Burrow…"

"Being spoilt rotten by Ginny…"

"And now you know it all…"

"Regular town criers, us!"

"Thanks," Harry grinned. The twin's double talk annoyed the living daylights out of some people, but he found it refreshing. And the news that Ron hadn't hated him for the first month of the holidays, but had been away incommunicado was also welcome news.

"So can we tell little Ronnikins that his best mate is still talking to him?"

"Of course," Harry was amazed that anyone would think otherwise. He'd be Ron's best friend for as long as the red head would let him. He'd like to be more, but that wasn't likely to be on the cards any time soon.

"Well, then, you'd better get back to sleep…"

"And we'll be off…"

"If you're doing better by tomorrow the Healers will send you to the Burrow…"

"So we'll see you there for dinner…"

"Good night," Harry smiled and leaned back into the pillows. He chuckled when George knocked over the chair this time, and that led to a round of hacking coughs. By the time he'd regained his breath he was exhausted and slipped back into sleep.

Hedwig hooted as the door opened and Harry glanced up from the book he'd propped on his knees. The was his second week at the Burrow and Mrs Weasley had yet to let him get out of bed to do anything other than answer the call of nature. His lungs were much improved, as Wizards potions seemed to be much stronger than Muggle antibiotics, and every third day a very sour and drab Healer stopped by to look him over and treat him with a spell that made Harry sleep for fifteen hours straight.

"Alright, Harry?" Ron shut the door and handed over a bottle of butter beer, keeping one for himself as he sat on the bed with him, leaning into Harry's raised knees, wrapping an arm around them comfortably.

He'd brought Hedwig to Harry the day after he'd arrived and Harry had reached up without thinking to pat Ron's arm. The redhead had plonked himself on the bed and helped Harry calm his almost hysterical owl. Harry had asked about Ron's holidays in an effort to break the silence, and apparently it was the right thing to do, as Ron had launched into a spirited recount of his month, all tension and discomfort gone from his face. He hadn't moved from his perch next to Harry, and since then his seat of choice was on Harry's bed, preferably leaning next to or on him.

"Fine," Harry nodded, toasted Ron with a gesture of thanks and took a sip. Ron's birthday had been yesterday, and he was disappointed that Harry had spent his birthday in the hospital. Harry didn't mind, he'd never had a party before and on the whole placed more stock in Ron's birthdays than his. He usually managed to slip Ron a present before they split up for the summer, or if not he gave it to Ginny to present with the families.

"You're serious about the Arithmancy thing," Ron commented, flicking the edge of the blue leather book with a finger. Harry nodded and ran the cold bottle over his cheek for a moment.

"I can't tell you why here," Harry decided, "But I will at school, the first chance I get. Can you wait that long?"

"Harry," Ron rubbed the thigh his hand was resting on, seemingly unaware of what he was doing. Harry was glad that he had a book in his lap to disguise the sluggish interest below his waist, and was grateful that the potions he was taking had him too tired for more active pursuits. Ron meant the touches innocently - they'd never really bothered keeping personal space separate from each other, and were in the habit of borrowing each other's things besides. He was recalled to the present when Ron kept speaking.

"You don't have to tell me anything. If you want to study Arithmancy then you should. Just be prepared for Hermione's reaction. In fact, if you time it right you could probably get her to faint or something."

"Nice, Ron," Harry grinned and sipped from the bottle in his hand. He'd learned to take small quick swallows after nearly choking on some soup he'd been savouring his first night there. Mrs Weasley had been beside herself, though Ron had simply supported Harry through the hacking coughs, and held him in the aftermath that left him gasping for air and shaking violently. The Weasley's had given him Percy's room so he wouldn't wake Ron in the night - a decision he approved whole heartedly of - and placed a muffling charm on the room as well. He could make himself heard if he needed help, but could cough at night safe in the knowledge that he wasn't keeping the whole house up.

"Hey, you awake? I said, do you want a game of chess?" Ron poked his chest and Harry blinked at him. Hedwig hooted from the headboard, which she only left for hunting and hygiene purposes, and Harry turned his head to smile at her.

"Yeah I'm awake," he told Ron, "Chess sounds good."

"Getting a bit bored with bed?" Ron laughed and got up. The chessboard was on the dresser and Harry put his books and quill away, folding his legs Indian fashion and shifting against the pillows.

"Just a lot," he grinned, and Ron grinned in sympathy. Neither one of them was lazy by nature, though they didn't mind skiving off now and then.

"Mum says you can get up next week," Ron settled on the bed and started setting up the chessmen, and Harry pulled a face, "The reason we're being so careful of you mate, is that the Healers can't figure out what made you so ill. No one wants you to get sick like that again."

"I don't either. That doesn't mean I'm happy to stay in bed for weeks on end," Harry ran a hand through his hair and Hedwig hopped onto his shoulder with an annoyed hoot. She began picking his hair over, and Ron laughed at them both.

"Hedwig must have been a hairdresser in a previous life," he teased Harry who grinned. He didn't mind that his owl 'mothered' him a little. She was often his only contact with the magical world, and sometimes it felt like she was the only one who cared if he lived or died.

Harry lost at chess rather spectacularly, and pretended to sulk while Ron packed it away. Ginny joined them with a letter from Hermione, who was spending the holiday with her parents. Harry thought that her letters sounded a bit distant, and he hoped that the events at the Ministry hadn't damaged their friendship. The gossip session broke up when Mrs Weasley called her children to dinner, which meant that Ron went to fetch the dinner tray for himself and Harry.

With dinner over, Harry settled back into his studies, so Ron could go outside and enjoy the last of the sunlight for them both. Harry had insisted that his friend do more than just sit with him, especially in the first few days when all he'd done was sleep and cough. Ron had given in reluctantly, but Harry knew that if they were both stuck in that room without a break then they'd have started bickering.

Ron wandered in at about midnight, and climbed into bed with Harry casually. He made Harry put the books away and then snuggled close, took a deep breath and fell asleep. The first time this had happened he'd been supporting Harry during a particularly vigorous coughing fit and had simply curled up and dropped off while Harry got his breath back. Harry had lain awake, unwilling to move in case Ron woke up and shouted at him. Ron had woken the next morning and gotten up as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, and every few nights since, he'd wandered into Harry's room and shared the bed. Harry accepted the unexpected gift of Ron's presence and treasured every moment of it, storing it away in his memory against the time that he was once more alone. Ron didn't appear to mean anything by the action, or if he did it wasn't the deeper meaning that Harry craved.