Ginny Weasley had been a very light sleeper since her second year at Hogwarts. So it was not out of the ordinary that she was jarred awake in the middle of the night, still at Harry's bedside. But what was out of the ordinary was the muffled moaning coming from a nearby room. Ginny jumped up, heart pounding, and made a grab for her wand. She stole a glance at Harry, who still looked to be fast asleep. Ginny took a deep breath and pushed the remnants of her nightmare out of her mind for the time being. Cautious and alert, she slowly tip-toed from Harry's room and turned down the hall, towards the source of the moans.
They led her to one of the Doctors' bedrooms; she did not know which one. After hesitating for a moment, she pushed open the door. The woman doctor, Allison Cameron, was tossing and turning in her sleep. Ginny wondered if she was having nightmares as well. Yet as she watched her for a moment and her wand light fell upon Doctor Cameron, Ginny could tell that something was wrong. She flipped on the light switch and hurried towards the woman, who was drenched in sweat.
"Doctor Cameron!" she exclaimed worriedly. "Allison, wake up!" The doctor stirred in her sleep but didn't awaken. Ginny bit her lip and then felt Cameron's forehead. She was burning up. "Damn," cursed Ginny silently. She summoned a magical thermometer from downstairs and held it above Cameron. Not a moment later, it blinked "105.71." Ginny groaned, not exactly sure what to do. She was quite sure that since Witches and Wizards could need a trip to St. Mungo's with a temperature so high, Muggles surely could. Just as she was about to run and fetch Hermione, Doctors Foreman and Chase, who were sharing the room next door, walked into Cameron's bedroom.
"What's going on?" Chase asked curiously, blinking in the lit room.
"She's sick!" exclaimed Ginny, hoping that the illness wasn't picked up here or in Hogwarts. Magical illnesses in Muggles often proved fatal—as was true of the reverse quite often.
"What's wrong?" asked Foreman, frowning as he hurried over to Cameron's bedside.
"She has a fever of 105.7, and she's sweating and moaning in her sleep," explained Ginny.
"Would you get us a damp cloth?" asked Chase as he examined his colleague. "And some water," added Foreman. "And do you all have our kind of drugs perchance? Motrin or Tylenol? We need to bring down her fever."
"Uh…I don't know!" exclaimed Ginny. "I'll go get the cloth and water and wake Hermione; she might know what to do." She immediately exited the room, red hair flying behind her. "Hermione!" she could be heard calling as she raced down the stairs.
Foreman and Chase exchanged an uneasy glance. "I hate it when doctors get sick," complained Chase.
"I hope they have the drugs," said Foreman worriedly. "If not, and her fever keeps rising, she'll need to get to a hospital."
"What on earth could she possibly have?" wondered Chase. "And now, of all times."
"It was probably the airport," muttered Foreman. "They're always infested with germs."
"Or the school," agreed Chase. "They're usually infested as well."
"What's infested?" came an annoyed voice from the door.
"House!" exclaimed Foreman, looking up.
"That's my name," said House, his sarcasm seemingly magnified with the late hour.
"It's Cameron," said Chase as House approached the bedside. "She's got a high fever—we aren't sure what's wrong with her exactly, and they don't have any drugs here."
"Hmm," muttered House as he limped over and examined Cameron for a moment. He then looked at Chase and Foreman. "It's Cameron, guys. I'll bet fifty dollars that she has a stock of hand-sanitizer, bottled waters, and medicine in one of her bags." Chase raised his eyebrows.
"You're on," said Foreman. "I mean, she thought we'd be in a hospital or something, so why would she feel the need to—"
"But it is Cameron," interjected Chase. "He has a point there."
Suddenly, Cameron jerked up in bed, panting. "Water," she said hoarsely, bringing a hand to her head.
"Allison—are you all right?" asked Chase worriedly. "We're getting you water, don't worry."
"I—don't—feel well," she whispered, shivering violently.
"What's her temperature?" demanded House.
"A few minutes ago it was 105.7," answered Foreman.
Both Cameron's and House's eyes widened. "I need—Tylenol," said Cameron, closing her eyes. "Are there more blankets here?" she whispered after a moment. Suddenly, Ginny raced into the room, Hermione on her heels.
"Here—here's the water and the cloth," she panted. Foreman grabbed the water and handed it to Cameron, and Chase hesitantly took the wet cloth and put it to her forehead.
"Stop, it's too cold," moaned Cameron, swatting Chase away.
"We need to break your fever," he argued as Cameron continued to shiver.
"I checked and we haven't any Muggle drugs in this house!" said Hermione quickly. "I'll ask Remus to get into a Muggle store later to grab some… I can't imagine what on earth she has! Do you think it's a virus, Doctor House?" House raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who was able to get out her entire few sentences in just three or so seconds.
"I think she has a fever," said House cuttingly.
"And it's going up," said Ginny worriedly, standing over Cameron. "Now it's 105.9. Do we need to bring her to St. Mungo's or something?"
"No, no. I'll just put on a Glamour Charm and run to the drugstore," said Hermione after a moment's thought.
"No, Hermione! You don't know what kinds of trackers could be out looking for you! It's too dangerous." Hermione sighed.
"I suppose you're right. What about sending out Tonks and one of these guys?" she asked, motioning towards the other doctors.
"That should work," said Ginny decisively. "I'll go wake Tonks, the poor thing."
Hermione followed Ginny out to get another blanket for Cameron, who had lain back down and was letting Chase cool her face off with the cloth.
"Well I'm going back to bed," said House indifferently.
"But what about Cameron?" asked Chase, looking at his boss with an annoyed expression.
"She has a virus, apparently," he shrugged.
"Cuddy is going to blow it out of proportion if she finds Cameron like this," said Foreman. House paused.
"You're right. And that's why you and that woman are going to go buy some Ibuprofen, and Cameron's fever is going to go down, and she's going to be nice and cheery for Doctor Cuddy." Cameron groaned.
"I can still hear you," she said, sounding upset.
"Is she crying?" asked Foreman incredulously.
"No," said Cameron, tears pouring down her face. "Just get away from me, all of you…. And find a way to bring my fever down…."
"Do you have any other symptoms?" demanded House. "Throat, head, ear aches? Backache? Is it the flu? Focus, Cameron. Is there anything else wrong?"
"I—I feel… sick…" whispered Cameron, pulling her blanket tighter. At that moment, the three witches ran into the room.
"I'm ready to go to the store," said Tonks sleepily, glancing at Cameron curiously. Her hair was a dark shade of violet for the occasion, and her clothing looked ruffled and messy.
"Foreman, go," said House. Foreman sighed.
"Let me go change," he said, exasperated.
"Hurry," called House as he left the room. He then turned to Hermione. "When will the equipment be here?"
"In a few hours," she said, yawning. "Mundungus Fletcher is bringing it, so help us," she added to Ginny, who grimaced.
"Let's hope Harry doesn't wake up while he's in the house," she muttered. Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
"Maybe I can Floo McGonagall and try to get Kingsley instead," she said.
"That could work," said Ginny. "I suppose I can Floo my Mum and get her to contact Dad at the Ministry, and he can contact Kingsley. I think they were both on the night shift. And while I'm at it, I can see if she'd like to help tend to Cameron."
"Good idea. Go on and do that, I'll stay here." Ginny nodded and walked away, leaving Hermione with Tonks and three of the Muggles. Cameron, despite the two blankets Hermione had brought, was still shivering.
"I'm ready," said Foreman, entering the room in jeans and a sweatshirt.
"Right, then. Let's go, before it gets light out." Foreman nodded and followed her downstairs. He was about to ask a question when Tonks put a finger to her mouth emphatically. When they made it downstairs, opened all the locks, and stepped outside, Tonks finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Sorry about that… didn't want to wake anything up. You'll have to help me here…I know the way around London, but I'm not too good with Muggle things—what's a drugstore again?" Foreman sighed.
"A store where you can buy necessities, really, and over-the-counter medicine."
"I see. Tell me when we pass one. I would've had my husband, Remus, come—he's much better at this stuff than I am, but he's got a condition…."
"What's wrong with him?" asked Foreman, curiously. "Maybe I can take a look at him later; how long has he been sick?"
"Oh," said Tonks, eyes widening. "No, he hasn't got a Muggle disease. He's—well, to tell you the truth, he's a werewolf. No big deal in this day and age, he's just…indisposed on the full moons, you know?"
"A werewolf!" exclaimed Foreman.
"Shh!" hissed Tonks, as Foreman earned the pair a few glances on the dark street. "Watch where you go yelling that! A lot of our kind are a bit—prejudiced against werewolves."
"You're serious?" demanded Foreman. "Wow. And I thought we'd seen the worst of it with the mail-carrying owls."
"Well you don't need to get an attitude about it," said Tonks, slightly miffed. "We're just different than you all."
"Right," said Foreman. The two made their way silently for a few blocks. "Look—there's a drugstore. Come on in with me." But as they approached, they realized the store was closed. "It opens at five," said Foreman thoughtfully. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Four forty-two," said Tonks, squinting at a watch that seemed to have too many hands to tell just the time. "I guess we'll just wait out here." The two sat down wearily on the sidewalk.
"So tell me about your life," said Tonks curiously. "It must be cool, being a Muggle and all. Where do you work? What do you do exactly? I mean, what kinds of illnesses do Muggles get, and how do you treat them?" Foreman took a deep breath. This would be a long eighteen minutes.
"Her temperature's over 106 now, Mum," Ginny Weasley could be heard explaining as she climbed up the stairs, mother right behind her. "I don't know what to do, either, I mean, will Muggles respond to our fever reducers?"
"Oh, I'm not sure," said Molly as they entered Cameron's bedroom. "But we'll try. The side affects aren't too damaging, anyway. We'll get her better in no time. Hello, Doctor House; Doctor Chase; Hermione. How is she?"
"Worse," said Chase, who seemed quite pale himself. "I hope Foreman and Tonks get back quickly…"
"Allison, dear… wake up," cooed Molly, kneeling by her bedside. She turned to House. "She needs to take a few potions. Allison! Doctor Cameron, you need to wake up for a moment…." Cameron stirred and sat up suddenly.
"I need…."
"Shhh, it's all right, dear. Drink this. That's a girl, go on, take it." Cameron swallowed semi-consciously. "The poor thing!" exclaimed Molly worriedly. "She's soaking wet… Ginny, help me darling, we'll have to change her. Hermione, will you look for some suitable nightclothes in her bag?" Hermione nodded and started sifting through Cameron's luggage. Chase glanced at House, somewhat alarmed. As Molly uncovered Cameron, she frowned at House, who was about to make a comment.
"If the two of you can't act mature, please remove yourselves from the room," said Molly, annoyed.
"I'm fine," said Chase, as Hermione glanced at him, aggravated.
"Molly grabbed the clothes as Hermione handed them to her, and said a spell to remove Cameron's clothes and subsequently replace them with the new clothes, all the while hiding her from the view of her colleagues.
"Well I guess I'm not going to be getting much sleep tonight," said House finally. "I'm going to read my Medical Journal. Don't bother me unless she's about to die, the patient's about to die, or unless the equipment arrives."
"Is he always like that?" asked Ginny with disgust as House limped from the room.
"Yep," answered Chase shortly. He then glanced at the bedroom door. "I hope they get back soon…."
"I'm sure they will. Tonks knows her way around London, and Doctor Foreman hopefully knows what a drugstore looks like," reasoned Hermione. Chase chuckled.
"House sure does, at any rate," he said under his breath. He then turned to the girls. "So why exactly are you all—in hiding? Why don't they just take that guy to jail or something? Is he a part of organized crime?" Hermione and Ginny glanced at each other.
"Well, it's just not that simple," said Hermione, shrugging. "I know how hard it must be to believe—I mean, I was a Muggle until I turned eleven. But you just have to understand that Voldemort has so many followers, and he's so powerful, and so good at cheating and manipulating people who in turn manipulate the government, that he is nearly impossible to catch—and when Aurors do catch him, they rarely make it out alive."
"That's pretty rough," said Chase thoughtfully. Ginny snorted.
"Quite," she answered him, smiling in disbelief.
About ten minutes later, and quite suddenly, a horrible shrieking rang through the house.
"MUDBLOODS…. MUGGLES! BLOOD-TRAITOERS! BEGONE FROM THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS! BEGONE! BESMIRCH THE ANCIENT AND MOSTE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK NO LONGER!"
"Ah! SHUT UP, YOU OLD HAG!" came the just-as-obnoxious voice of Nymphadora Tonks.
"YOU! BLOOD-TRAITOR! DISGUSTING BRAT!"
Ginny and Hermione looked at each other as a disgruntled ginger cat raced into the room, hair standing on end.
"Oh, Crookshanks," cooed Hermione. "It's all right."
"What on earth is that? Is everyone all right?" asked Chase, covering his ears as Tonks screamed again.
"It's a portrait of Tonks' great-aunt," supplied Molly, who was trying to soothe Cameron, who had woken up in a delirium.
"A portrait?" demanded Chase unbelievingly.
"Yeah," said Ginny. "They talk. Mrs. Black was Sirius Black's mother—Sirius was Harry's godfather. Anyway, dark family. Except Sirius, of course. He ran away and was disowned. Tonks' mother, Andromeda—the Healer you met earlier—ran off with a Muggle-born Wizard in school—Ted Tonks—and she was disowned as well," she said distractedly. "I'm going to go help Tonks shut the damn portrait up, be right back."
"Language, Ginny!" called Molly and Hermione simultaneously as Ginny ran downstairs.
"We can't get the portrait down," said Hermione apologetically to Chase. "There's a permanent sticking charm on the back—at least that's what we think." At that moment, House, Foreman, Ginny, and Tonks all entered the room, each in a various stage of frustration.
"Who died and went to Banshee heaven?" demanded House.
"Sorry," said Tonks brightly, "Ran into the umbrella stand again!"
"Their paintings talk!" exclaimed Foreman.
Ginny examined her nails. "I say we knock down the wall and get it over with."
"Can we please keep it at a dull roar?" demanded Chase loudly. "She's delirious, and her temperature just keeps rising!"
"What is it now?" asked House, both surprised and concerned that it hadn't gone down with the water or cooling cloth.
"106.4," said Molly worriedly. "If it hits 107, we have got to get her to a hospital, I think. Are there any Muggle hospitals around here?" she directed at Hermione, who shrugged helplessly.
"Do you have the medicine?" asked House of Foreman.
"Right here."
"How are we going to get her to swallow it?" asked Ginny curiously.
"I bought pills and liquid," answered Foreman. House nodded.
"See if she'll take the pills. Then I want Chase and Foreman in my office—room, rather. We're going to look at the case, seeing as we won't be getting anymore sleep tonight."
"Cameron's case?" asked Foreman incredulously.
"Yeah, because it's going to be really tough to figure out that she has a fever—whoops, I just did."
"But we can't leave her!" argued Chase. "What if she gets worse?"
"Someone will tell us," shrugged House.
"Don't you think she'd feel more comfortable waking up with someone she knows?" asked Molly pointedly.
"Like that ever happens," said House derisively. He sighed. "Fine. Foreman, you're in. I know that you two have a special connection."
"House," began Foreman warningly.
"I mean, what beats trying to infect her with a pathogen that will kill her?"
"I didn't—"
"Oh! That's right," said House, slapping his head and turning to Chase menacingly. "Sleeping with her while she's high. My mistake. Foreman, come on. Chase, you're almost as pathetic as Cameron."
"So caring makes you pathetic?" shot back Chase.
House stood still for a moment. "Yes," he said finally.
"Fine. I guess I'm pathetic. And Cameron's pathetic. And our patient must be really pathetic, to actually have risked his life for people—numerous times. And I suppose you're pathetic."
"I don't know what you're talking about," said House with a false sense of uncaring.
"Then look me in the eye and tell me you didn't care about Stacy." House slowly turned back around and reached for a Vicodin, closing his eyes calmly.
"I don't care about Stacy. Now do your job." Chase glared at him as he stalked off, Foreman glancing back apologetically.
"Who was Stacy?" asked Hermione quietly.
"His Ex," said Chase shortly.
"Did she…die?" asked Ginny, eyes darting towards the floor sympathetically.
"No," said Chase, looking at the girl pityingly. "He drove her off—well, not exactly. None of us know the whole story. They broke it off after the ordeal with his leg."
"He loved her, didn't he?" asked Ginny, sighing sadly.
"I think so," said Chase quietly. Suddenly he realized that Ginny was fighting back tears. "What's the matter?"
"Ginny, Harry's not going to leave you," said Hermione quietly.
"But he's all noble anyway, and if something happens to him—you know him, he won't think he deserves me or something, and he's going to… he's going to break my heart. Isn't he?"
"Ginevra Molly Weasley, stop talking like that at once. I'll talk with you later, darling. Now I want you and Hermione to get out of the room—goodness knows we don't need anyone else catching whatever she has. You, too, Tonks. Go get some sleep, dear."
"I might just take you up on that," smiled Tonks. "Night, all."
"Morning," said Hermione flatly.
Several hours later, Molly Weasley was making breakfast in the kitchen. House, Foreman, Hermione, Ginny, Tonks, and Ron all sat around the table tiredly. Hermione and Ginny were commenting on their surprise that Malfoy had slept through the entire fiasco and still hadn't been heard from. Just as the pancakes were finished, the Floo turned a bright green.
"Good morning, everyone!" exclaimed Fred jubilantly as he stepped out of the fireplace.
"Top of the morning to ye," echoed George, stepping out a moment later. The twins looked around. "Why the glum faces?"
"Doctor Cameron's really sick and we've all been up half the night," answered Ginny, frowning at her brothers' smiling faces.
"What's wrong with her?" asked Fred curiously, walking over to his mother and sampling an egg.
"High fever—it's just reached 107—delirium, the shivers; the whole bit," said Hermione sadly. George began eating nonchalantly and didn't notice as Fred glanced at him in alarm.
"Er—she wouldn't have happened to eat anything odd last night?"George suddenly looked up in shock and horror.
"Say—fudge?" he asked worriedly. Within a second, the face of every magical person in the room dawned in comprehension.
"You didn't!" exclaimed Ginny, standing up furiously.
"Well, we thought one of you would get them and know what they were," said Fred, backing up.
"YOU IRRESPONSIBLE," began Molly, even more incensed than Ginny, "RECKLESS, CARELESS EXCUSES FOR GROWN MEN!" she thundered.
"What's the trouble?" asked a red-headed man who had just appeared in the Fireplace, eyes heavy from work.
"WHAT'S THE TROUBLE? WHAT'S THE TROUBLE?"
"Arthur," began Tonks quickly, "The boys—er—set out some Fever Fudge last night…."
"Well at least now we know they work on Muggles," said George.
"Not helping," said Fred, elbowing him.
"THE ANTIDOTE HAD BETTER WORK ON MUGGLES!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, advancing on her sons.
"Ah—I'll run up and administer the antidote now, shall I?"
"YES, YOU SHALL! IF YOU WEREN'T OF AGE—YOU KNOW WHAT, I DON'T CARE! YOU'RE GROUNDED! FOR LIFE!" With that, the twins raced upstairs, Molly on their heels.
"Er—I suppose I'll tend to breakfast," said Ginny helpfully, standing up in the wake of the explosion.
"Do I want to know what a 'fever fudge' is?" asked House.
"It's pretty self-explanatory," said Hermione. "In a series called 'skiving snackboxes.' They're for students to use to get out of class—one half makes them sick, and then there's an antidote as soon as they get out of the classroom," she said disapprovingly.
"Wish they had those when I was growing up," said Foreman. "What if the antidote doesn't work?"
"Let's just hope it does," said Ron, shaking his head with wonder.
"I'm Arthur Weasley—Molly's husband, the rest of the red-heads' father," said the Fireplace man, extending a hand to House and then Foreman, who introduced themselves. "Kingsley Shacklebolt will be over quite soon, I expect. He's got your medical devices. You know, I'm so pleased to meet you, it's really amazing how you folks do it without magic…." Arthur droned on excitedly about Muggles and plugs and 'eklekcity,' and House and Foreman listened quietly as they sipped coffee.
Several minutes passed by. Then yelling could be distinctly heard coming from upstairs as the kitchen door opened, and Cameron walked in, still pale as a ghost and sweating, followed by Chase.
"Are you okay?" asked House, worry creeping into his tone. Cameron groaned and forced a smile.
"I feel like crap."
"You look it," agreed Foreman.
"Thanks," she muttered, flopping into a chair.
"I beg to differ; why don't you wear outfits like that to work? Cuddy sure doesn't have a problem with it," said House in a friendly tone.
"Shut up," she groaned. Chase sat down next to her, rubbing his temples.
"So do you still feel any remnants of the fever? Can you remember the night?" asked Hermione, apparently dying to know whether the fudge affected Muggles any differently than it did Magical people.
"Uh…I'm still tired and dizzy…but I haven't got an actual fever anymore…hopefully I won't go into shock or something. And I remember bits and pieces of the night. I thought I was going to die." Hermione looked at her with pity.
"Well, thank goodness Fred and George came for breakfast."
"Or it was a curse that they came last night," reasoned House.
"Yes, well…after awhile you get used to them," Hermione admitted.
"She and the twins used to be in rows all the time," said Ginny fondly. "And her and Ron, actually," she grinned.
"And now you're dating?" asked Chase of Ron, who nodded through his mouthfuls of food.
"Anyone home?" came a yell from the front entrance.
"That'd be Kingsley," said Arthur, standing up. "We're in here!" he yelled. "Come on, we can all go help bring stuff upstairs, I suppose." Everyone made to stand up.
"Cameron, go back to bed for a few hours. But I want you awake a few hours before Cuddy gets here so we can work on the case," said House. Cameron nodded thankfully and stood up.
The other doctors and several (competent) witches and wizards spent the rest of the morning getting some machines wired and hooked up into the third floor of 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Impressive," said House once everything was in its place. "And we still have six, glorious, Cuddy-free hours left ahead of us. Chase, go wake Cameron up. We need to get to work."
A/N: Sorry about the long wait! I know the chapter was kind of full of fluff; I had a lot more, but it wasn't the right place to end the chapter, so next chapter expect a Medical session thing (finally!) and Cuddy visiting, maybe a few other mishaps. And eventually I'd like to work in some interesting chats, including House and Snape, House and Harry (eventually), Cuddy and McGonagall, Chase and Draco, House and Ron, Cameron and Voldemort (just kidding), ETC. So please review! The next update will be ASAP.