A/N: Alright, I finally got this up. Sorry it took me so long! But it hasn't been beta-ed either, so that's my excuse for any errors. Please review! You guys are great!

Chapter Five
A Turn for the Worse

"Ginny dear, please go to sleep. I can keep an eye on Harry for a while."

Her mother had been asking her to go to bed for the last hour, but she simply couldn't. She felt like it was her fault. What if that potion she had given him had made him worse? Why hadn't she just gotten her mother when she said she would? Why?

She was incredibly worried. Everyone was. Harry had taken a turn for the worse. He hadn't been able to keep anything down for three days, now. He was now in a state of delirium, where he didn't seem to know if he was asleep or awake. Mum said that if his fever didn't break by morning, they would have to take him to St. Mungo's. They hadn't given him any more potions for fear it would make him worse. Besides, he'd probably just throw it back up as he had everything else. He was dehydrated and losing weight faster than anyone had ever seen. No one knew what to do.

"Ginny?" her mother repeated, waiting for her answer.

"No, Mum. I'm fine. I'll stay with him."

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "If you're sure," she said quietly. She gave Ginny a hug and whispered, "He's going to be all right. I promise." Then she quietly went up the stairs.

Ginny sighed, looking at Harry lying on the couch. He had his glasses off, and his eyes appeared slightly sunken in. He was pale and skinny, and his hair was damp with sweat. He looked so weak, it absolutely terrified her. She'd seen people sick before, usually her brothers, but it had never lasted this long. There had always been some sort of magical cure in the house, but now they were truly helpless.

Ginny sat up and came out of her thoughts as Harry stirred, muttering something incoherent. That wasn't any different than how it had been for the past few days. She reached over and felt his forehead. Still warm. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, realizing how tired she was. She was startled to open her eyes and find that Harry was looking at her.

"Ginny?" he croaked, his voice barely audible.

"Yes, Harry?" Ginny said, her heart leaping as she scooted forward. "What is it?"

Harry let out a long, slow breath. "I... I love you."

He closed his eyes again, he breathing becoming slow and even. Ginny was completely taken aback. He sounded so completely honest, so totally open with her. Did he really mean it?

Of course he didn't, she thought. He is delirious. He doesn't know what he's talking about.

But then again, she argued with herself, sometimes a state of delirium is what causes someone to be the most honest.

She let her thoughts drift away again, and she felt her eyes slowly droop. She didn't know if she ever actually fell asleep, but sometime later in the night, her eyes snapped open again as she heard Harry stir again. She looked over in time to see him roll over to the side of the couch where a bucket was and begin retching again. This time it was so violently, he began throwing up blood.

"Oh, Harry," she said, and she sat beside him, stroking his hair as he continued to heave. "We need to get you to the hospital."

She waited until the heaving subsided, which seemed to take much longer than any other time, and then she rushed upstairs to get her mother. When Mrs. Weasley awoke and saw Ginny there, she simply nodded, knowing the reason.

"Come on. Let's wake up Ron and Hermione."

Ginny rushed to Ron's room while Mrs. Weasley went to where Hermione was sleeping in her room.

"Ron," she said, shaking her brother awake. "Ron, wake up. We're going to St. Mungo's."

Ron immediately opened his eyes. "Harry hasn't gotten any better?" he asked as he pushed himself out of bed.

Ginny shook her head. "No. Now get dressed quickly. We need to get there as soon as possible."

She left the room and headed back downstairs. In the kitchen she found Hermione and Mrs. Weasley waiting.

"I've just sent an owl to Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley, looking very worried and stressed. "He's still at work. I don't know how he does it. Anyway, we need to get back to Harry."

They walked into the living room to where Harry lay. He was trembling from head to foot, closing his eyes tightly as he curled into a ball.

"How are we supposed to get him there?" Ginny asked. "He's in no condition for Floo. And I don't know if we can wait long enough to drive him there."

"And we can't very well Apparate him there," Hermione added.

"Oh, St. Mungo's almost always have their emergency patients take a portkey," said Mrs. Weasley. "You can always take a portkey there without authorization, as long as you fill out the paper work upon arrival." She began rummaging through things in the room as she looked back at Harry. "And this is most definitely an emergency."
Hermione and Ginny nodded as Ron came downstairs.

"Are we going, Mum?" Ron asked, looking at Harry on the couch and paling. "He looks bad."

"Yes, dear, we're leaving as soon as I find- ah, here it is!" Mrs. Weasley came around from where she was looking behind a bookshelf and withdrew an old wooden spoon. She pulled out her wand. "Portus," she mumbled. The spoon in her hands began to glow and trembled a bit, before settling again.

"All right. It's going to take us there in one minute. Ron, if you could pick up Harry, please."

Ginny was surprised at how calm her mother was. She usually overreacted about everything. But then she remembered when her father had been bitten by that snake, when she had been most worried, and that was the most controlled Ginny had ever seen her. She herself knew she was absolutely terrified. Harry was now so sick, his life was in danger. She watched as Ron picked up his best friend, who had fallen back to sleep again, and they all gathered around the wooden spoon her mother held.

"All right, on the count of three, dears. One... two... three!"

They all touched the spoon at the same moment, and Ginny felt the familiar feeling of a hook behind her navel and she was jerked forward. There was a whirlwind of color about her, and sound whistling in her ears, until they felt their feet touch the floor.

Ginny looked about her. Yes, this was St. Mungo's, alright. They were in the large waiting area. There weren't nearly as many people as there had been during the Christmas holidays when her father had been here. There were just a few people with odd ailments sitting and waiting to be called in, and there was no line at the reception desk.
They hurried up to it, Ron still carrying Harry, who was out cold. The witch looked at the group apathetically.

"You must be the Weasley's, eh?" she asked, so uncaringly that it made hem angry.

"Yes, we need-"

"And this is Hermione Granger, I've seen you in the Daily Prophet several times."

Hermione reddened slightly and Ron snarled. "Yes, now will you please-"

"And this is Harry Potter, of course," she pointed to him and then her eyes widened. "What's wrong with him?"

"That's what we are trying to find out," Ginny said through clenched teeth. "Now, if you're done pointing out the obvious, we need emergency Healers right now. Harry Potter is seriously ill and we don't know exactly what's wrong."

Ginny was surprised that her mother didn't reprimand her for being so rude, but Mrs. Weasley appeared to be just as annoyed with the receptionist.

"S-second floor," the witch said, pointing toward the stairs. "Yvonne Michaels is the Healer that can help you."

"Thank you!" they all said, and hurried up the stairs. They made it to the second floor, and quickly searched for a healer that could help. Ginny could see that Ron's arms were getting tired, even if he was fairly strong and Harry so light. Mrs. Weasley spotted a witch in lime green robes and quickly hailed her over.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Are you Healer Michaels?"

The witch, who was fairly short and plump, nodded.

"Good. We need to get Harry Potter some help right away. He's terribly ill, as you can see." Mrs. Weasley gestured to Harry in his prone form and the Healer Michaels nodded again.

"This way. There's a nearby room just down the hall." She set off at a quick pace and soon led them through a door to a ward that was divided into single rooms. "Put him down here," she commanded to Ron, who gratefully laid Harry down on the hospital bed.

"What are his symptoms?" Healer Michaels asked as she felt Harry's pulse.

Mrs. Weasley quickly listed off all of his symptoms. "Runny nose, sore throat, high fever, aches, laborious breathing, and excessive vomiting."

Healer Michaels nodded, checking Harry's temperature for herself. "Anything else?"

They all shook their heads and looked at the Healer expectantly.

"Well, we're going to have to keep him under observation for now. It sounds to me like the common Stomach Flu, but I assume you already gave him some Likosin Potion for it and it didn't help."

"Yes," Ginny said, very worried now, since the Healer didn't know what to do either. "I gave him some of that four days ago. He got better for a few hours, but then he just got sick again."

"I see..." said the Healer, pulling the covers over Harry so he was wrapped up to his chin. "Well, I'll have to discuss this with the Healing Staff. He may have gotten strange bite or gotten the bad end of a curse, I just don't know. I've never seen a case like this before."

Healer Michaels hurried out of the room, her green robes swishing around the corner after her. Ginny sighed and pulled up a chair up to Harry's bed to wait. Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley followed soon after. They simply sat in silence, looking at Harry's sickly frame, until a rush of footsteps could be heard from the corridor outside.

"This way, room two-hundred and eight. Mr. Potter is very sick, so if you could please hurry..."

Healer Michaels emerged from the corridor, leading a group of five or six Healers crowding in, all standing out in their lime green robes.

"Now, as you can see- oh dear, this won't do," said Michaels with her hands on her hips. "Will you four please leave? We assure you, we will help him as best we can. However, it is much too crowded in here."

"Why can't we stay?" Ginny asked, standing and putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, staring coldly at the Healers, who were really beginning to bother her.

"Yeah, we can stay out of the way!" said Ron, standing as well.

"I'm sorry, but I really can't allow it. You must leave, hospital rules."

They made Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley leave the room, but Ginny flatly refused. Promising she would stay out of the way, she sat and watched as Healers tried various things to cure Harry. After many spells that had no effect, they moved on to potions. But Harry wouldn't wake up. Finally, an assistant Healer by the name of Gruncht turned to Ginny.

"Is there any way you might be able to wake him up?"

Ginny took a deep breath and nodded. She stood, walked over to Harry's bed, and took his hand.

"Harry," she said softly, stroking his hair gently. "Harry, you need to wake up."

Harry groaned and slowly opened his eyes.

"Harry, the Healers are going to give you some potions to make you feel better," Ginny said gently.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes.

"No, Harry. You need to stay awake for a little while."

Harry nodded slowly, showing that he was awake. Ginny wanted to stay with him, but she found herself being shunted aside.

"Thank you for your help, miss," said Gruncht.

The wizard promptly filled a goblet of potion and helped Harry sit up. "Now Mr. Potter, you'll need to drink this..."

Ginny sat and watched for hours as they fed Harry one potion after another, and none of them worked. His stomach would not hold any of it. Sometimes it would seem like it worked until he would suddenly vomit it back up. Some of the potions had other symptoms too. One made Harry's nose bleed profusely for several minutes until they gave him a potion to stop it. Another put him into a horrible coughing fit to the point where he could barely breathe. All night the Healers would leave for a while and return, making Ginny wake Harry up again as they gave him something else.

It was near three in the morning when they were finally gone. They couldn't get poor Harry to stay awake for more than a few seconds, so they finally gave up. They let Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione back in and closed the door. Then they all sat in chairs besides Harry's bed and drifted off to sleep.

88888888888888

Ginny's eye's snapped open as she heard a noise from somewhere nearby. Still tired, shook her head to clear her thoughts, but didn't need to when she heard a sharp cry of pain. She looked up to see Harry writhing madly in his bed, struggling to breath and clutching his stomach, moaning into his pillow. She looked at his face and saw that his eyes were glazed over unseeingly and filled with pain as he gasped for breath. She sprang to her feet and took Harry's hand.

"Harry! Harry, calm down. What's wrong? What's wrong, Harry? Harry!"

But no matter how much she yelled for him to calm, he continued to hyperventilate and claw at his stomach, oblivious to everything except the pain he felt. Mrs. Weasley was soon beside her, trying to help.

"What's wrong?" she asked Ginny desperately.

"I don't know! I woke up and he was like this!" Ginny put her hand on Harry's forehead and withdrew it quickly. He had a raging fever, much worse than it had been.

"What time is it?" Ron asked blearily.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, standing up as well.

"It's Harry! He's just..."

"Gone ballistic?" Ron asked with wide eyes.

Ginny tried to pull Harry's arms away from his stomach to see what was wrong, but he tightened his grip and let out a choked sob through gritted teeth.

"Someone go get the Healers!"

She heard a shuffle of feet and turned to see Ron running out the door at top speed. She tried her best to get Harry's attention, to get him to say something.

"Harry, please don't do this! Say something!" she shouted, trying desperately to get through to him. But he just continued to gasp for air, clutching his stomach as though someone had just stabbed him. He was panicking and his deep green eyes had clouded over, pleading for help. He panted rapidly, sucking in gulps of air as if they would be his last. He shut his eyes tightly against the pain and moaned helplessly. Ginny had no idea what to do, but didn't have to think on it for long, because soon Ron came running in, leading in the group of Healers.

"When did this happen?" a tall, stern looking man demanded as the rest of the Healers crowded around Harry and began running tests.

"W-we don't know," said Hermione fearfully.

"He's having an allergic reaction to the Phenolous Draught," Gruncht told the tall wizard.

"You were not supposed to give him the Phenolous for this same reason!" the tall man said loudly, rounding on Gruncht. "This is a common side effect that can be disastrous with his condition!"

"Yes, but Phenolous is also the only thing that counteracts the bleeding! We had no choice but to give him that!" Gruncht said just as loudly, his face turning red.

Ginny stared at them in disbelief. "What do you think you're doing?" she shouted. "Arguing is not helping the situation!"

The tall Healer looked at Healer Michaels. "Get them out of here. I don't have time for this." Then he went right on arguing with Gruncht.

"Right then," Healer Michaels said kindly, yet forcefully, pushing them toward the door. "If you will please step outside, we will be with you when his condition has stabilized. You all ought to get some rest. Might I suggest the tearoom?"

Then she pushed them out the door and slammed it behind them. The sound echoed throughout the corridor, and they were no longer able to hear the Healers arguing or Harry's gasps. They all shuddered, completely exhausted in the early hours of the morning and completely terrified of what could happen to Harry.

"Come along, dears," said Mrs. Weasley, putting her hand on Ginny's back and gently pushing her forward. "Let's go to the tearoom."

They walked down the corridor, and then proceeded up the stairs to the fifth floor. They emerged in a small room that was quite empty but for one customer and employee. The customer was a short little wizard, about the size of Professor Flitwick, with a beard that reached his toes, and the employee was a tall young man, only a few years older than Ginny, with dark blond hair and a sparkling smile, similar to Gilderoy Lockhart. The employee was standing behind a simple counter, and behind him stood a large door that undoubtedly led to the kitchen.

"And seven sickles is your change," the young man said politely, handing the short wizard a handful of change and a bag of biscuits. The short wizard snatched away what the young man offered him and left the tearoom. "Thank you!" the young man called. Then he turned his attention to Hermione and the three Weasleys as they stepped up. Mrs. Weasley placed their order.

"We would like four cups of tea, please," said Mrs. Weasley politely.
But the young man didn't appear to hear her. Ginny, who had been lost in her thoughts about Harry, looked up to find the employee's grey eyes staring at her. When he saw her make eye contact he smiled and stood a little taller.

Oh please, she thought. Not now. I can't handle this.

"I believe my mother asked you for four teas," she said tersely.

The young man appeared to come out of his trance and turned back to Mrs. Weasley, though he snuck glances at Ginny every few seconds.

"Four teas? Of course! That will be two galleons."

Mrs. Weasley grimaced. She took a money bag out of her purse and began counting out. She found thirty one sickles and a few knuts.

"Well," she sighed taking back some of her money, "never mind. Three teas will do."

"Nonsense," said the young man. "I'll add three more sickles in." He took three sickles out of his pocket and dropped them into the money box, along with Mrs. Weasley's money. Then he waved his wand and four cups of tea immediately came flying out of the large door behind him and skidded to a stop on the counter top.

"Enjoy your drinks Mrs...?"

"Weasley. Mrs. Molly Weasley," she said, picking up the drinks and hading them to everyone. "And these are two of my children, Ron and Ginny. And this one here is Hermione, a friend."

The young man nodded politely to each of them in turn, but gave Ginny a particularly winning smile. "I'm Vince Stretburg," he said. "At your service. I hope to see you around." He looked pointedly at Ginny again, which was really starting to annoy her. She turned to follow her family to a table, but Vince called her back.

"So, Miss Weasley, my shift ends in an hour. Fancy going for a walk? Or are you busy?"

Ginny clenched her jaw at the anger that had been released within her. How dare he?

"I'm quite busy, actually," she said in all politeness. "You see, I'm visiting someone on the second floor."

"Oh really?" he asked as she turned to sit with her mum. "Who?"

"Harry Potter," she called over her shoulder, enjoying his reaction of complete shock. "My boyfriend."

Vince let out a small, "Oh," blushing furiously. Then he quickly excused himself and walked trough the door behind the counter.
Ginny couldn't help smirking to herself. Of course, Harry was no longer her boyfriend, but the way Vince blushed was priceless. Who would ever go after a girl who was already with the famous 'Chosen One'? She continued to smile at the thought as she walked over to where Ron, Hermione, and her mother were sitting.

"Do you think they're done yet?" Ron asked anxiously to no one in particular, looking out the door toward the corridor beyond.

Thinking about Harry wiped the smile off her face as she thought of her "boyfriend" lying sick in bed. She, too, wondered if the Healers had finished with him, and sighed, trying to relieve all the stress within her.

"Don't worry, Ginny," said Hermione comfortingly. "This is Harry Potter we're talking about. He'll be fine."

"I know," she said, sounding much braver than he felt.

"Yeah, he has a load of Healers taking care of him. He'll be up and about in no time."

"I... I know." But this time her voice betrayed her true feelings and she felt her lower lip begin to tremble involuntarily. Willing herself not to cry, she bit her lip and closed her eyes, taking deep, calming breaths.

"Ginny, dear," her mother began sympathetically. "It's all right to-"
But Ginny stood abruptly, cutting her off.

"I'm fine, Mum. I just... need to go see him."

She abandoned her tea and began walking briskly toward the door.

"Ginny, wait!" Ron called across the room.

"Ginny, you haven't slept properly for days. You need to relax," said Hermione.

Ginny just shook her head and walked out the door. She knew her family would follow her, but she didn't want to talk to them right now, so she sped up her pace. Soon she was down the stairs and on the second floor, ignoring her brother's calls. She saw a flood of lime green robed figures come out of a room down the corridor ad realized that it was Harry's room. She began running down the hall, her feet pounding against the floor with the fast beat of her heart. She skidded to a halt in front of room two hundred and eight and started to wrench open the door, but Healer Michaels stepped in her way.

"I'm sorry, but I can't allow you in there."

"Why not?" Ginny demanded. "I need to see him. He needs me."

"I don't think that'll make much difference."

Cold terror gripped her heart. Wouldn't make a difference? Did that mean he was...?

"W-What do you mean?" Ginny stammered, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

Healer Michaels opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted when Ron and Hermione came skidding to a halt beside Ginny.

"Ginny, don't run off like that!" Ron said sternly after catching his breath. Then he looked at Ginny's distraught face. "What's wrong?"

Healer Michaels sighed. "As I was trying to say, you cannot visit Mr. Potter at this time. He has been put into an enchanted sleep and needs his rest."

Ginny sighed with relief. He's not dead!

"And we have good news," Healer Michaels added.

Mrs. Weasley, who was not one to run, came up behind Ginny. "What's the good news?" she asked Healer Michaels, putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder. Everyone waited expectantly for an answer.

"We can heal Harry. It took us a while to find out what was wrong with him. He has been hit with a curse that causes sickness. Has he been involved in any duels lately?"

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other.

"Well, he was involved in a pretty brutal duel a Hogwarts two months ago," said Hermione with a confused expression. "But that's far too long ago to have effected him so recently."

Healer Michaels nodded. "We have many theories as to his delayed symptoms. We think it has something to do with his unique scar."
They were all silent for a moment, pondering this. But there was a question Ginny had that she was boiling to ask.

"But at St. Mungo's you are experienced in such curses. Why has it taken you so long to find the problem?" she blurted.

Healer Michaels sighed. "Well, it seems that he was hit with a strange variation of the original curse. Not only were we not familiar with the tampered incantation, but the symptoms were much stronger than we've ever seen for that particular curse. Someone familiar with the Dark Arts and keen on revenge must have done this."

Ginny saw Ron and Hermione share a meaningful look. "Snape," they both mouthed.

"When will he be back on his feet?" Mrs. Weasley asked, not noticing the exchange.

Healer Michaels smiled kindly. "He should be devoid of the sickness in a matter of hours, but it will take time for his body to heal. He will need to remain in the hospital for a few more days. I will allow you to visit him in an hour or so if you promise not to wake him. But for now, you all really ought to just relax. Harry is going to be just fine."

Ginny sighed with relief and leaned against her mother, who wrapped her arms around her.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."