Chapter 14 Moments Alone
Eventually, Hermione managed to convince the others that she wanted to spend some time with Harry by herself. Sirius started to object but was cut off by Professor McGonagall, who held up her hand. "That is a good idea. Sometimes for the sick to have someone they are very close to around them, and too many of us in the same room at one time with him may be a bit exhausting to take in."
"Thank you, Professor." Hermione replied with a small smile as she cupped Harry's hand in her own and massaged it. The fact that he didn't make any motion back was very strange, but Hermione knew that the fever was the cause of that. He was too weak to respond.
"Good night, Miss Granger. Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything or if Harry needs anything."
The adults and Ron (after hugging Hermione and promising that everything was going to be all right) left Hermione alone in the room, and it grew very quiet. The only noise that could be heard was the summer breeze whistling along the castle walls and Harry's laboured breathing. Siberia. This would be their most challenging adventure yet, and she hated to admit it, but she was scared to death and there was a little feeling in the back of her mind saying that it was an impossible task, and to let someone else go through with it.
"No," She spoke aloud to no one in particular. Harry's green eyes blinked open and he took his free hand and rubbed his forehead.
"Hermione?" He asked weakly, coughing.
She gasped. "Ooh-I'm sorry, Harry-I didn't mean to wake you. I was just thinking out loud. How are you feeling?" She gave him a kiss. "We found out what was wrong with you, though I'm not sure you'd want to know right now."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You what?"
"We had to go through some books in the library. Madame Pomfrey's Peperup isn't working at all and neither is the cooling potion. To keep you hydrated she had to give you toast water and you were barely awake when you drank it."
Harry smiled weakly. "Some summer, huh?" he asked.
She tried to appear cheerful, but the tears just came without warning. Harry, feeling horrible about making her cry, pulled her close to him. "Shhhh-sweetheart. Everything is going to be all right. Don't cry, love." He kissed the top of her head.
"I can't loose you, Harry. I just can't." Hermione whispered. "You have a fatal illness, Harry." She lifted her head. "Ron found out that your symptoms are identical to those of the Hloke curse."
Harry had a hard time taking in the news. A fatal illness? Hloke Curse? "What are you talking about? What's the Hloke curse? Hermione-calm down and explain that to me."
Hermione took a deep breath. "The Hloke curse is caused when one stands up to the Lord Voldemort-and the sign that it is there is a lightening shaped scar. The illness doesn't start to make an appearance till at least five years from the time of the attack-I'm paraphrasing from the medical book. Harry-the only way to help you is if Ron and I go to Siberia to get your medicine."
Harry's eyes bulged. "No-no-that's too dangerous for you! How do they plan to get you to Siberia?"
"Portkey." Hermione sobbed. "Oh Harry-I shouldn't have told you that- I shouldn't have told you any of it." She started to cry again.
Harry caressed her cheek with his frail hand, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face, and only stopped when she clutched his hand in her own again, placing her lips against it. Harry suddenly let go of her, covered his mouth with both hands and sneezed violently twice. "Bless you." Whispered Hermione.
"Stupid allergies." Harry sniffed and reached for a tissue on the nightstand. "What's with my sneezing in pairs?"
Hermione laughed a little and shrugged, glad that he was a bit more alert at the moment. Not for long, however. "I think I'm going back to sleep. I'm getting a massive headache." Harry told her. "Are you staying with me tonight?" He added after bundling under the blankets. She nodded.
"Yes. I'm staying right here with you."
"Make sure you get some sleep too." He encouraged. "You don't want to catch whatever I have."
He didn't seem to understand that the disease was not contagious, but she just played along with him. "Yes, Harry. I promise I'll lay down for a bit, but later. You just rest now." She kissed him once more before watching his eyes close.
Hermione was true to her word-she sat with him the entire night, resting for about two hours in one of the other cots.
Early the next morning she was awoken by a soft shake of the shoulders. "Go away." She mumbled, waving her hand.
"Hermione, dear-it's Mrs. Weasley. Wake up, poppet."
Hermione opened her eyes and turned her head, blinking until her world came into focus. "Mrs. Weasley? What are you doing here?" She asked.
"I've brought your trunks and your other things. And Professor Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea if I helped them with Harry."
Harry. Hermione realized the bed Harry had been lying in was empty.
"Where is he?" she cried, jumping up. "What did you do with him?"
"Calm down-he's getting a sponge bath in bathroom-his fever escalated this morning."
Hermione took a deep breath of relief. "What is his temperature?"
"One hundred and three, Hermione."
Hermione choked on a sob. "But he was better-well-a little at least- last night. We were talking for about ten minutes or so before he went back to sleep."
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Fevers are tricky that way. Now dear-go and get some rest. You and Ron have a long couple of days ahead of you."
Hermione cocked her head-she had no idea what Mrs. Weasley was talking about.
"Going to Siberia?"
"Oh-right." She laughed nervously. "I-I was hoping it was all a terrible dream-that Harry just had a bad cold and would be fine today. I'd better go and fnish packing-thank you for bringing our things."
"You're welcome. Ron is in the boy's dormitory-rather upset."
"Over Harry?"
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "It's been hard for him this summer-getting over loosing a brother, his best friend falling so sick. Go and comfort him- he'll need you."
Hermione smiled before hurrying up to the Gryffindor tower.
In the bathroom, Sirius knelt down beside the tub and held Harry's hand tightly while Madame Pomfrey sponged his naked body down with a washcloth. The water was luke warm, but to Harry it was like ice. He was too weak to cry out but whimpered anytime the water touched his skin. "Sirius-help me," Harry whispered hoarsley.
"Shhhh." Madame Pomfrey soothed. "Just a little bit longer, love."
Professor Dumbledore had provided them with a lavender oil to help ease Harry's breathing in the tub.
Five minutes later, Harry was lifted out of the tub and wrapped in towels. Sirius held the sick boy close to him, letting Harry lean his head against his shoulder. Normally Harry would have protested against this action-he hated being picked up for any reason, and that was perfectly normal for a teenager, but he was too sick to walk on his own and too weak to protest.
They carried Harry back to the hospital wing and placed him in a t- shirt and a pair of boxers only before putting him back into bed and covering him with just a white sheet.
"They must leave as soon as possible," Sirius told Madame Pomfrey, touching Harry's hot cheek with his hand. "If his fever continues to escalate like this he may not make it."
"I'll contact Professor Dumbledore. As far as I know, Ron and Hermione are sleeping at the moment-both exhausted."
"I know, I know. We'll wake them up. This has to be taken care of now."
So they sent for the headmaster, who appeared rather disgruntled. He clearly had not been sleeping well either-probably pacing around his office all night, but was very keen on having Ron and Hermione wake up and take the trip right away. "Time must not be wasted," he told Professor Lupin who had arrived to the hospital wing moments later, followed by Professor McGonagall.
"Shall I go and wake them, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked quietly.
"Yes." He replied simply, and she bustled off to the common room, returning with a very miserable-looking Ron and Hermione-tossle-haired and sleepy-eyed.
"It is time," Professor Dumbledore told them gravely. "Follow me."