Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Marvel or the characters therein. Nor, sadly, do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

Okay, a heads up. When I wrote this, Covid-19 wasn't a thing—not even close. I debated still having this be a part of the oneshot series, but it really was necessary for forward motion. If the idea of disease bothers you (as really, we're being bombarded with it every single day lately everywhere we look) you can skip this part without missing much. That being said, you've been warned.

…

The Dreamer

Hermione sat in silence on the porch swing, watching as the heavy downpour came down on the London streets. She hadn't spoken since she had left the tower. There wasn't anything to say. What could she say? Yeah, James was a wonderful, thoughtful lover who accused her of lying about not being able to have children and, oh yeah, fucked his best friend on the daily too. She had known nearly from the start of their own relationship. How could she not?

They were constantly touching, much like she and James. She flinched at the thought of them together. Was she being selfish to want Bucky to choose between them? If they had to be in a polyamorous relationship, couldn't he have been honest about it? No, she corrected herself, she just didn't work that way. Did that make her a prude? Who knows, maybe. All she knew at that point was that she was hurting and there was no bandage on earth that could fix it.

Hermione saw the car pulling up to the house and was tempted to get up to see who it was. They'd be to the porch soon enough, she told herself. Absently she looked around where she was and wondered not for the first time if she had ever had a house that looked like this one. Certainly not one with a porch swing. Her mother had hated them, didn't she? And she never lived in the city of London, now that she thought of it.

Bucky, Steve, and a blond woman she had never met before walked over to the porch.

She stayed silent as they all stood there staring at her.

It was Steve who ended up clearing his throat. "We should have been honest with you from the start."

This was met with silence, as she kept rocking herself on the swing.

"This is ridiculous," the woman said. "It's clear that she's going to remain a child about this…"

"Shut up." The words were like a thunderclap and had them all backing away slightly from her. "I only have one question." She looked to the woman. "What's it like being the other beard in this relationship?"

"Beard? I'm not a…" She went silent, looking to the two men with her. "Steve?"

Lowering his head, Steve said, "We've been together since I picked him up from Wakanda."

"What? Did they have a threesome with you and you thought that was what I was upset about?" Hermione asked, her voice cutting with the rage it held. "It would appear you're just as much of a romantic idiot as I am." She got up. "You have five minutes to get off of my porch." She went to Bucky, caressing his face. "I love you, James. But I can't live like this. You're going to have to choose." Kissing her hand, she pressed it to his cheek.

He caught her hand, pressing it all the more to his skin. Pulling her to himself, he breathed, "You. I'll always choose you."

"Oh, if only," she sighed, tears dripping down her face. "This is another dream and I'll wake up and you'll still be with Steve…"

"Hermione…"

"No…"

"Hermione, wake up!"

She woke up, curled up on the hospital bed. Her fever was higher than before and the healers were going mad trying to get it down.

"You're not my beard," Bucky chanted, combing her hair out of her face. "Never. You're the love of my life and I'll die if you don't get well."

Frowning, she breathed, "Infection?"

His head lifted slightly. "Yes, you caught a bug last week. You've been in and out of consciousness for the past three days."

"Okay," she sighed. "Call Harry…tell him that I need Snape. He'll know what I'm talking about. Tell him to use my life debt if he must." Her eye lids were feeling heavy again. "Oh James…I can't stay awake…I can't stand the nightmares…I love you. Stay…" And she was out again.

Bucky was trembling, as Steve put a hand on his shoulder. "She's going to be okay, Buck. Just you see."

Lifting his head, he muttered, "Please get Harry. I can't leave her."

"I'm on it," Clint said to him, rushing out the door.

…

"I want one of you, I do not care which one, to tell me how in the name of Merlin Hermione Granger managed to contract the measles," Severus Snape all but roared at them. "Is there or is there not a vaccine?"

"And according to her medical records, she was vaccinated for it," Natasha told him. "Given what we know, we can't say how this happened. Can you help her?"

"Has the disease been modified in any way?" he asked, looking down at her.

"No, it's just a run of the mill case, but it's one of those rare cases that is hitting her hard for some reason," Jane said, as she kept rubbing a distraught Darcy's back. "Is there anything you can do?"

"I can help with the fever," he told them. "And a few other symptoms, but there's no outright cure." He studied Hermione asleep on the bed behind the glass. "But there is something I could try. I have a potion that might do the trick. It'll bolster her own immune system. It's been known to work with dragon pox. I don't see why it wouldn't work here with this as well."

"Can it help with her nightmares?" a gruff voice had Severus spinning around to face a haggard looking Bucky.

Severus frowned. "Nightmares?" He looked sharply over to Harry. "Why didn't you tell me about that symptom?"

"What? Why?" Harry stammered.

"Because this isn't the measles." He went to his bag, pulling out a potion and handed it over to the big man next to him. "Give this to her now."

"The whole thing?"

"The whole thing."

He rushed into the room, being watched by all there. Slowly but surely, he managed to get her to consume the entire bottle of the potion.

"What was wrong with her…"

"Wait for it," Severus hissed.

Hermione sneezed hard. And if that had been all, it would have been plenty. She managed to sneeze flames that scorched the window they were standing behind. A window that was about twenty-five feet away from her bed at that.

"She should be fine now," Severus told Harry. "She has a rare type of dragon pox that attacks the brain. It tends to hit those who have been held under Cruciatus for any amount of time." He handed Harry another ten bottles. "Give her one a day for ten days and she should recover fully. Call me if this isn't the case."

"Thank you," Harry told him quietly.

Severus nodded, going on his way with the final words of, "You might think about putting her in a fireproof room until she stops sneezing flames, Potter."

Swallowing thickly, he turned to Tony and asked, "You wouldn't happen to have a fireproof room?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Tony replied. "And once we get them in there, I'm buying drinks for everyone."

"That sounds like a plan, mate," Harry answered, turning to look into the room to see Bucky curled around Hermione's back (for safety reasons, he imagined) and both sleeping peacefully for the first time in days.

TBC…

…

And there it goes. Aloha to the oneshot! Thanks for reading and I hope that you're having a lovely day.