Chapter Three: The Flu

It wasn't until after the show when they found Harry's body lying on the floor. Hermione alerted Tom and the both of them carried him into Hermione's room. She tucked him gently in bed. Summoning a bowl of cold water and a towel, Hermione sat down beside him carefully placed the soaked towel on his forehead.

"I knew the minute I seen him, he had the flu," said Tom.

"Tom," Hermione whispered, "There's something I need to tell you. He's from the county asylum."

"No!" the barkeep gasped. "How?"

"But he's alright really. He would have been discharged if he had a home to go to," she explained, "You don't think they'll come after him do you?"

"Any busybody comes snooping after him; I'll give him what I gave the gunner!" He held up his fist in a threatening manner.

"Tom, you're a darling" Hermione sighed in relief as she walked him out the door.

"He's a gentleman he is. Liked him the first minute I trapped eyes on him" Tom glanced at him once more before closing the door.

Hermione stood there for a second. Suddenly, Harry turned slightly on the bed.

"I...alright...just my speech...I can't remember." He shook profusely, still delirious from his fever.

Hermione ran beside him and held his hand. "Rest now Smithy. You mustn't talk."

Harry opened his eyes slightly. "I'm not like the others...I'm not like them. I'm alright."

"Yes Smithy, you're alright." Hermione coaxed, rubbing his arm gently.

He looked into her eyes. "But I..I can't go back...If I go back...I'll never come out...I'll be like the others!" He tried to get up.

"You shan't go back Smithy. I won't let you go back. Rest now" Hermione tucked him in again. She gently brushed his forehead. "Rest Smithy. Go to sleep."

Harry relaxed and closed his eyes. He quickly fell into a deep slumber. Hermione stayed with him through the night, not taking her eyes off of him.

After a few days, his fever subsided. Hermione continued to nurse him until he got his strength back. After every show, she would go grab a tray of food from downstairs and have supper with him. They would continue to have their little talks and just enjoying each other's company. Harry improved with his speech and would stutter less frequently.

"How did the show go?" Harry asked.

"Oh splendidly. It's the last night. Glad to get rid of us I suppose," she chuckled, "How did you get on?"

"I-I-I talked to the chambermaid today. Hmm. Quite a chatter."

"You did? Wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, "What about?"

"The weather."

Hermione laughed, "You are coming on," she looked around the room, "I see you're all packed, so am I. Our train leaves at one o clock."

"Mione" Smith asked, "You're sure I can be useful? Your manager isn't just taking me on just because y-y-you asked him"

"Good gracious, you don't know Lee; he's as hard as nails," Hermione flashed a reassuring smile, "No, you can take my word for it; the whole thing was his idea."

"I can't tell you what it means Mione." Harry confessed gratefully, "To be someone again. To be wanted. It's all your doing."

Hermione blushed, "How you do run on. There's no stopping you once you started." She abruptly stood up, "Now you just eat your supper, I just need to run down stairs. I'll be up in time to get you for the train."

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Hermione made her way downstairs and sat down next to Lee at the bar.

"The usual?" Tom asked.

"Please Tom." She turned to her manager. "Lee! He's pleased as punch. I wish you could've heard him. You are an angel."

"Oh that's alright Mione." Lee replied.

"It's given him confidence just knowing that he's wanted. That's all he needs to get well," she told him excitedly.

"Here you are," Tom set her drink down on the bar.

"Thank you," she replied. The two friends drank to each other's health.

Just then, the door opened and a short man adorned in a heavy cloak walked in.

"Evening Mr. Flint. What'll it be?" Tom greeted him.

"Half and Half, and rush it would you? They've been watching me like a hawk at the hospital after Wandistice day (You know, like Armistice day? Get it? Good :) He propped himself up on the bar.

"Why?" asked Tom.

"One of our loonies stripped off in the fog, while I was supposed to be watching the gate. Got clean away, uniform and all!" he explained.

At the bar, Hermione and Lee were exchanging silent glances.

"No, really? But you got him back didn't you?" Tom asked.

"Not yet, but we shall."

"What sort of a bloke?" Tom inquired as he handed him his drink.

Hermione abruptly got up from her stool and started to walk into the dining room. "It's getting late"

"Tallish, dark haired, shuffles a bit, can't get his words out. Always saying something different." Flint replied.

Hermione paused to listen.

"He's not dangerous I suppose?" asked Tom.

"Oh there's no saying with loonies, quiet as mice for weeks and all of a sudden, up and after you with a wand yelling hexes left and right."

"Lee, I'm going into supper, Are you coming?" Hermione became anxious.

"Just a minute, Hermione," he told her, still listening carefully to the conversation at hand.

"Luna? You coming?" she asked.

"Coming." Luna said as she followed her into the dinner room.