Chapter Three

Midnight Sickness

Ginny couldn't sleep.

She wasn't sure why this was, but she was getting a little annoyed because it seemed to happen every night. She always felt extremely tired when she went to bed, but found herself tossing and turning for hours before she drifted off. She tried to find a reason, and wracked her brain to when her lack of rest had begun, and realized she hadn't slept well since Dumbledore's death. She usually went downstairs when she found herself like this, but the last time she had done that, there was a very awkward moment between her and Harry-

Wait! She sat up in bed. If she was having a hard time sleeping, she couldn't imagine what Harry was going through.

She quickly put on her dressing gown and walked up across the hall to Fred and George's old room. She heard muttering inside and put her ear to the door.

"No," came Harry's muffled voice. "No please, don't kill him! Please!"

She pushed he door open and rushed in. Harry was thrashing about in his bed, breathing rapidly. He was incredibly pale and sweaty, as if he'd just been playing out in the snow for hours. He continued to mutter things and he looked to be on the verge of tears, which terrified Ginny more than anything else. She quickly went over and shook his shoulder to get him awake.

"Harry. Harry! Wake up, Harry. It's just a dream!" Ginny said urgently, yet quietly enough so as not to wake anyone else in the house.

Harry's eyes snapped open, though they were unfocused and glazed over. He was breathing heavily and there was sweat on his brow as he shook uncontrollably.

"Calm down, Harry," said Ginny soothingly. "Calm down."

"G-Ginny?" Harry asked quietly, not seeing her.

Ginny nodded and then realized he didn't have his glasses on, and quickly gave them to him. As he pushed them on his nose shakily, she sat on the edge of his bed.

"Are you alright?" she asked, noting how pale he was.

He nodded, trembling all over. "I... I just feel a bit ill, th-that's all," he said, failing to suppress a fierce shiver.

Ginny pushed his damp hair off his brow and felt his forehead. He closed his eyes at her touch and took a slow, deep breath. Ginny shook her head sadly, feeling the heat radiating off him.

"You're burning up," she stated. "Just stay here and try to relax. I'll get Mum." She stood and took one step toward the door before she felt Harry grab her hand.

"No," he said quietly. "I don't want her fretting over me. Please stay."

Ginny was taken aback by that. He asked me to stay? she thought. Maybe he really does miss me like he says he does. She looked at him lying there, pleading for her to remain with him. She thought about it and then decided she would try to get something out of him.

"I'll stay if you tell me what your dream was about," she said matter-of-factly, noting that he was still holding her hand as she sat down.

Harry's eyes widened for a moment, considering her offer. Then he shook his head and let go of her. "Never mind. It was just a nightmare. Go ahead and leave"

Ginny rolled her eyes. Why did he have to be so blasted stubborn?

"Harry, come on. The only way you will be able to get past this is if you tell someone about it."

Harry sighed and looked away. "You wouldn't understand."

Ginny felt suddenly angry and stood abruptly, turning away from him.

"I can't believe you of all people would say that to me," she said through clenched teeth.

There was a shocked silence, and then she heard Harry sigh.

"Ginny, I-"

"No, Harry," she said loudly as she whirled around to face him, forgetting that everyone else was asleep. "You're the one who doesn't understand. I always have to sit back and watch as you lock yourself away and push me aside. When in reality, I understand you more than anyone ever possibly could. You... You obviously don't know me as well as you think you do."

She felt angry tears prickle in her eyes, so she turned her back to him again. Why was she crying? She never cried! But she realized she didn't really care as she felt strong arms wrap gently around her. She turned around and cried silently into Harry's shoulder, letting all of her frustration and despair out as he hugged her tightly. They stood like that for a long time, but for how long, she didn't know. Harry stroked her hair as she slowly calmed down and her breathing slowed.

"Ginny, I'm so sorry," Harry whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Ginny smiled, her first genuine smile in a long time. "I know. I forgive you."

She looked up when Harry didn't answer to see him swallow heavily with his eyes closed, swaying slightly on his feet. His face was now not only pale but had a slight green tinge, and she noticed sweat forming on his brow again.

"Oh Harry, I forgot that you're ill!" She pulled away from his arms and guided him back into bed, laying the covers over him. He sighed gratefully, his eyes still closed. He really didn't look well at all.

"I'm going to go downstairs and see if I can find anything for you," she said, and saw him nod, swallowing heavily again. She quickly and quietly went down to the kitchen and raided her mum's Healing cupboard. She grabbed a few jars and a book on household illnesses and hurried back up the stairs.

Harry was lying in bed, buried under the covers and shivering like mad. He looked very green indeed.

"Harry, are you all right?" Ginny asked, realizing the moment she said it that it was an incredibly stupid thing to say. He was obviously not all right.

Harry shook his head. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said, so quietly that Ginny barely heard it.

Oh great, she thought. But she didn't have time to think much else, because Harry suddenly rolled over to the other side of the bed and began heaving violently. Ginny rushed over and sat beside him, rubbing his back comfortingly as he shuddered like mad. They sat there for several minutes, Harry retching over the side of the bed all the while. Ginny had never seen him so sick before.

Finally, the heaves slowly subsided. Harry sat there, gasping for breath, wiping his mouth and nose. He rolled over onto his back, trembling all over and looking miserable.

"S-sorry," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "M-must've... caught something... at the D-Dursleys'."

He reached over to his bedside table and grabbed his wand. He muttered an incantation and vanished away the vomit on the floor.

"Gross," he and Ginny said together. Ginny smiled as he replaced his wand beside him and laid back down. She tucked him in and then stood, snatching up Mrs. Weasley's healing book.

"Let's see..." she said to Harry cheerfully, trying to make him feel better. "What're your symptoms? Sore throat?"

Harry nodded. He looked like he might be sick again if he spoke.

"Muscle aches?"

Again, he nodded.

"Runny nose?"

He sniffled in response.

"Purple horns growing out of your head?"

Harry looked at her quizzically and she laughed.

"That's what it says!"

Harry didn't look like he believed her, but he smiled weakly and shook his head.

"Alright then. Laborious breathing?"

He nodded again.

"And... vomiting." She made a face and Harry chuckled softly. "Yes, I do believe that is a symptom," she said. Then she ran her finger down the page, looking for the illness that matched all of those symptoms.

"Well, it looks like you have the common Stomach Flu. It says to mix some of this," she picked up a jar that contained a strange bluish powder, "with some water. I'll be right back."

She quickly went to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and hurried back upstairs, not wanting to leave Harry alone for too long.

"There," she said after she'd added the water and stirred it a bit. It began to steam as she handed it to Harry and helped him sit up. "Drink this and you should be fine in the morning. It looks like it'll make you sleep for a few hours, so-" But she stopped talking when she saw Harry pale even more, not drinking the potion.

"What?" she asked, looking at his worried face.

Harry bit his lip. "Do I have to take that potion?" he asked quietly with fear in his voice. "Is there anything else that can help?"

At first Ginny wanted to laugh at how innocent he looked, scared to take the medicine. Then she realized that he was scared to be locked into sleep for several long hours, not able to wake up.

"No, Harry. You have to drink it if you want to get better soon. This is the only cure." She didn't think it possible, but he paled even more as she said this. She was worried his head would turn blue and fall of from lack of blood, so she quickly reassured him. "But you don't have to worry. It says here that it'll be dreamless sleep."

She pointed to the spot in the book where it said so, and after he read it he sighed with relief, a little color returning to his face.

"All right... I'll drink it," he said weakly.

"Good," Ginny said, not able to help smiling to herself.

He raised the cup and grimly murmured "Cheers," before pouring it into his mouth. In two gulps he was done, and he set the cup on the bedside table, swallowing heavily. "Ugh. That doesn't... Th... That doesn't... taste very..."

But he never finished his sentence. His eyes began to unfocus and his words slurred. Ginny laughed softly and gently pushed him back onto his pillow. His eyes drifted shut and immediately he was asleep, breathing slowly and calmly. Ginny couldn't help staring at him for a few moments, thinking of how peaceful he looked when he wasn't worried about Voldemort. She couldn't believe all that the Wizarding world had put upon him, what with all this "Chosen One" nonsense. Didn't they see what it was doing to him? For the two days that he had been staying at the Burrow this summer, Ginny had seen the stress in his eyes, along with the anguish of every loss in his life. Why did they have to expect so much of him? Why did he have to expect so much of himself?

Suddenly she heard a chime from the grandfather clock downstairs. She looked at the Muggle watch her father had gotten her for her birthday, and saw that it read, "4:00 a.m."

I really need to get some sleep, she thought, removing Harry's glasses and tucking the covers around him again. She gave him a soft kiss on the forehead, just above his scar, before straightening and walking to the door.

"Good night, Harry," she whispered looking at hispeaceful form. "Get well."

Then she walked softly into her room, closing the door and falling onto her soft bed. All of her thoughts were of the sleeping young man just across the hall as she also drifted into a comfortable slumber.