Back, as promised, with the next story in this series.
WARNING...lots of mentions of vomiting, puking etc in this short story - if you're sensitive of that, you might want to skip this one.
That being said, hope you enjoy.
2.
The hour was late and all was quiet in the Weasley-Granger household. The children had long since been tucked up in bed and were fast asleep. Ron was snuggled down and wasn't far off sleep himself whilst his wife, Hermione, sat up in bed reading one of the many books stacked on her bedside table.
"Mummy?" A little voice came from the door as their daughter peaked into their room.
"Rosie?" Hermione put her book down. "What's wrong sweetheart?" she asked.
"Tummy hurt," Rose replied, throwing open the door and stepping into their room whilst holding herself and looking up pitifully.
"Oh, come here darling," Hermione set her book aside and held her arms out for the child.
Rose only took a couple more steps, before promptly vomiting. Hermione leapt out of bed, whilst Ron, not having been as close to sleep as one might have thought, acted with his quick Auror responses. He'd grabbed his wand and re-directed the stream of vomit into the nearby wastepaper bin, rather than on the carpet, in the blink of an eye.
"Thank you," Hermione breathed gratefully before reaching her now sobbing little girl.
Ron shrugged and sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't want it on the floor, even when we vanish it, the smell remains," he muttered from experience.
"Come on sweetheart," Hermione gently placed her hand on Rosie's back, guiding her into the en-suite bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up," she spoke softly, noting how pale and clammy Rose seemed.
They'd barely made it to the bathroom before she was sick again and became increasingly distressed. And then Hugo woke, screaming his little lungs out.
"Ron?" Hermione looked to her husband frantically, trying to deal with their sick daughter, but also needing to respond to their baby son's cries.
"I got him," he was already out of bed and heading into the nursery. "Hey there buddy," he leaned over the cot railings and rubbed Hugo's tummy. "What's up with you. Huh? You're not going to throw up on me too, are you?" he asked, cautiously picking up the eight month old infant and holding him against his chest. Hugo's wails quietened a little to panted sobs as he grasped his Dad's shirt in his tiny fist.
Setting him down on the changing unit, he quickly changed his wet nappy. But the baby still wasn't happy. "Is it those pesky little teeth again?" Ron asked his son, kissing the top of his head as he cuddled him. "Still giving you trouble, huh?" he murmured.
"Ron?" Hermione called from their room. He hurried back, with the baby still whimpering on his chest.
"Yeah?" he asked, finding Hermione perched on the edge of the bathtub with Rose leant over the toilet, still being ill, as she held her hair out of the way and softly rubbed circles on her back with her other hand.
"Can you pass me my wand? I need to check her temperature." Ron grabbed it from her bedside table and quickly passed it over. "Is Hugo okay?" she asked, performing the spell to reveal Rose's temperature.
"I think his teeth are bothering him again," he sighed, gently rocking the baby against him.
Hermione sighed and set her wand down. "And this little girl has a fever." She grimaced as the poor child was sick again, wishing she could easily make her feel better.
"Think she needs a trip to St Mungo's?" Ron was worried, but Hermione shook her head.
"I don't think so. It's probably just a tummy bug. Angelina thought Fred was coming down with something yesterday. Rose probably picked up something from him. Can you go down to the kitchen and get the fever reducing potion?" she asked, wiping Rose's face with a cool flannel as she looked up at her mum pitifully. "It's the orange stuff, in a tall bottle."
Ron nodded. "The teething potion is down there as well, right?" he asked.
Hermione nodded and Ron went to grab the items to hopefully help ease both of his children's suffering. Before he'd had kids and became a dad he hadn't known there could be anything as traumatic or heart breaking as seeing your own little ones in pain. He'd do anything to keep them safe and well and it hurt to see them feeling so lousy and not being able to do much to make it all better.
"Come on buddy," Ron spoke to the snuffling baby on his shoulder. "Let's find something to help make you and your sister feel better." He kissed his son's tiny head again and then began to rummage in the kitchen potion cupboard, wishing he hadn't left his wand upstairs so he could simply Accio the items much faster.
It was almost two in the morning before Rose had stopped throwing up and the teething potion took effect on Hugo's sore gums to allow him to rest. Hermione had cleaned Rose up and changed her into fresh pyjamas and was now sat on their bed, holding their rather miserable daughter on her lap wrapped in a blanket. She didn't want to risk putting her back to bed or laying her down in their bed just yet in case she was sick again, not that the little girl would let her mum out of her sight anyway.
Ron was lying on his back in bed, the baby now contently asleep on his chest where he ran his hand up and down Hugo's back comfortingly. Since he'd finally settled, Ron hadn't dared even to move, let alone attempt putting him back in his cot for fear of waking him again. "The joy of having kids, huh?" he asked, giving his wife a wink.
She returned with a tired smile. "Yes," she sighed softly. "I think it's going to be a long night." She brushed Rose's damp hair off her face and then tried to slide her from her lap.
"No mummy!" Rose clung to her.
"I'm just going to get your cup with some cool water to sip, sweetheart. Here, you sit with daddy a minute. I'll be right back," she promised and passed their daughter off to her father and slipped out of the room, taking the bin Rose has been sick in earlier with her to get rid of.
Ron held his free arm out towards his daughter, who rather sulkily burrowed into him. "Hey there my sweet girl," he kissed her forehead. "You feeling any better?" he asked softly.
She slowly moved her head side to side where she half lay against him.
"Think you're gonna be sick again?" he worried, making an attempt to sit up whilst still holding the baby in case he had to act fast. Hugo startled against his chest at the movement, his legs twitched as he whimpered in his sleep.
"Tummy hurts," Rose told him, crying again, obviously in pain.
"Right, back to the bathroom," Ron sprung from the bed, waking Hugo who loudly protested the jostling and steered Rose back to the toilet just in time. Ron, though cringing at his daughter being sick and his son wailing in his ear again, was quite glad he didn't also have a pile of puke to clean off his bed.
"Oh no, I thought she'd stopped," Hermione groaned, setting the pink sippy cup down on the end of the bed and coming through to help by taking the baby from Ron and trying to soothe him again.
"Do you think he's going to get it too?" Ron nodded his head towards the baby whilst trying to comfort Rose who was in tears again.
Hermione shrugged and swapped Hugo to her other shoulder. "Who knows. It might run through all of us before we're done," she groaned.
"Great," Ron muttered from where he perched against the sink. "Isn't there anything we can give her to stop her being sick?" he cringed as she splattered into the toilet again, feeling terrible for the poor little thing.
Hermione shook her head. "It's probably for the best if the bug runs its course and she gets it out of her system, rather than trying to stop it. I'm sure it will just be one of those 24 hour things." she muttered to herself. "I'll check how Fred is with Ang in the morning, and Rose was playing with James and Albus today, I'd best let Harry and Ginny know to look out for it," she added the item to her mental to do list.
Ron nodded as he wiped Rose's face with a clean, cool cloth and gave her a little hug, wishing he could make her feel better. "My poor little Rosie Posie," he murmured, helping her off with her sweaty and now, stinky pyjamas.
"I'll go fetch her some more clean clothes," Hermione mumbled, taking Hugo with her.
Cleaned up once again, they settled back on the bed and Rose took a few small sips of water. Hugo refused to go back to sleep, although he'd stopped crying, he now thought it was playtime and fought against anyone's hold. He sat on the bed between his exhausted parents and his poorly sister, giggling and clapping his hands in glee as Ron entertained him with brightly coloured sparks and trails of coloured smoke emitting from his wand.
"Well, of course he's not going to sleep whilst you're doing that!" Hermione looked at him irritated.
"He's not going to sleep anyway, and if I don't entertain him, he's bound to start screaming again," Ron snapped back, both of them irritable and tired.
"Then go and fix him another bottle or something. That might settle him," she suggested,
"Yeah, and what if he's got that bug too, he'll just throw it all up all over us!"
"So you're suggesting we starve our children just in case they're sick?"
"That's not what I..." he shook his head and closed his eyes as he tried to remain calm and not argue with his wife. He knew they were both tired, it was getting on for three in the morning now and neither of them had slept after both having long and busy days. "I s'pose it's worth a try," he mumbled, getting up and leaving her with both children.
By the time he returned, Hermione was nodding against the headboard, jolting awake every few moments. Rose was curled up on her lap, wrapped in a blanket, clinging to her mother and looking utterly sorry for herself. Whilst Hugo lay on his back in the middle of the bed, babbling happily to himself and finding his own toes entertaining.
Ron hadn't returned empty handed either. Along with the bottle for Hugo, he had refreshed Rose's sippy cup of water and brought himself and Hermione a drink each. He'd also brought a bucket, which he put by the side of the bed. "Just in case," he muttered, "save you having to dart back to the bathroom." He gave Hermione a smile in return for her one of thanks. And, even with his hands full, had also collected Hugo's blankie, Rose's favourite stuffed unicorn that she dragged everywhere with her and one of her most read books. "I thought this might settle them both," Ron told Hermione, showing her the book as he scooped up Hugo and made themselves comfortable on the bed.
"Good idea," Hermione yawned.
Ron passed the stuffed toy to Rose, which she grasped tightly against her chest and then made sure that Hugo was settled with his bottle and blankie, sucking away contently before he opened the book and began to read out loud.
He hadn't got through much of the story before the bottle gradually slipped from Hugo's hold and a milk trail drooled from the corner of his mouth as he crashed out, finally. It had been over an hour since Rose had last been ill, so Hermione carefully dared to lay her down in their bed, making sure she stayed warm and brushed her red curls from the sleepy child's face.
"Try and get some rest sweetheart," she whispered as Ron continued to read to her. "Her temperature seems a bit better," she told Ron. He nodded and carried on, scared to stop in case it disturbed them as Hermione settled down beside her daughter, turning off her own lamp.
Rose was next to succumb to sleep, looking a little less weary and perhaps not quite as pale as she had been when her eyelids fluttered closed. And then, a soft snore came from Hermione's side of the bed. Ron looked over and smiled to himself, closing the book silently, he squeezed into the last bit of the bed and closed his eyes himself.
All was quiet once more in the Weasley-Granger household, the four occupants all now finally fast asleep in the same bed.
Please leave reviews - they're the only emails I get these days!
And thank you to everyone who left me good wishes and messages about my Dad. I have replied to those I could, but for those signed in as guests, thank you, I really do appreciate it. Things aren't very positive right now...but we're all just about hanging in there. Caring for a seriously ill parent is physically and emotionally exhausting!
But, thank you again. Back next week and hope you had a good Easter.