Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Hello! Thanks for sticking with me, I'm sorry about the delay. I'm graduating Uni soon and I have major senioritis, which is negatively impacting my writing life as well. Plus I had no idea what to do with this story … and I still don't past this chapter. Ideas are welcome!
"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Ron exclaimed, glancing down at Harry, who shrugged.
"Don't know … do you think one of us should talk to her?"
Ron hesitated.
"Probably. I remember Ginny saying that when girls tell you to go away, they really mean they want someone to follow them and ask if they're okay. Or something like that."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"I'd better be the one to go. She'll at least talk to me."
Ron scowled.
"Oh, give it up," Harry said as he threw back his covers and shivered. "You know what I mean."
He pulled on shoes and his own coat before peering out of the tent flap. He saw Hermione sitting on a rock near the river bed. Harry pulled his coat closer and walked over.
"Hermione?" he asked softly.
Hermione jumped and hastily wiped her tears away, though they continued to flow.
"You shouldn't be out of bed." Hermione replied.
Harry sat down on a smaller rock in front of her, pulling his knees close. He was sitting lower than Hermione and glanced up at her tear-stained face.
"What's this all about?" he asked quietly.
Hermione sniffed and ran her hand under her nose.
"I … I … this is all my fault."
Harry frowned.
"I fail to see how it is," he said bluntly. "I'm the reason we're hunting horcruxes and I'm the reason Ron jumped into a frozen pond."
"No, not that," Hermione sobbed, giving up on hiding it. "I packed everything, I made all the plans, I'm supposed to be the one to take care of things and I can't do anything now! There's no spells, no potions, no medicines … it's just me and I'm not good enough to make things better, not without magic."
Harry sighed.
"Hermione, that's not true," he said. "You are a brilliant witch but that doesn't mean you're nothing without magic. You said it yourself … you're highly logical and that lets you see details that people overlook. You don't use magic to do that."
"But I can't make you and Ron well again."
"Maybe not but that's not because you aren't giving us the attention we need."
Harry hated the notion of needing attention but this was about making Hermione feel better regardless of what it meant for Harry.
"You don't have medicine to give us, that doesn't mean you're not looking after us. You took care of me after we got back from Godric's Hollow. How is this any different?"
"It is different," Hermione answered. "We have things to do now and I can't help. Last time you were ill, we had no idea where to go next so it didn't matter that it took time for you to get better. Now it does."
Harry sighed.
"Mr. Lovegood will still be there tomorrow or whenever we get over this."
As soon as Harry said this, he knew it was a weak argument and Hermione wasted no time in pointing it out.
"Not necessarily! People go missing every day. You've heard those radio reports."
"Listen, the point is that you are not to blame for this and I know you'll do whatever you can to help Ron and me feel better. Besides, Ron's so eager to please you that he'll be a model patient. You can do whatever you want to him and he'll praise you all day long."
"I should feed him something awful," Hermione muttered. "The git."
Harry frowned.
"Please don't go too hard on him. I know he hurt you but we're living in the same tent. Be angry at him after this is all over."
"Easy for you to say, he pulled you out of a frozen pond."
Harry sighed, which led to a deep cough that rattled in his chest. Hermione, wiping her eyes again, looked at him with concern.
"You shouldn't be out here," she said. "Go back to bed."
"Only if you come in with me." Harry said stubbornly. Hermione sighed and Harry stood, offering her his hand. Hermione took it and together they walked back to the tent. Ron, who had been listening at the tent flap, scampered back into bed mere seconds before the flap opened and a flushed Hermione and a pale Harry stepped in, Harry doing up the flap after them.
"Alright, Hermione?"
Hermione sighed.
"Yeah, fine. How do you feel?"
Ron shrugged.
"Okay, I guess."
Hermione sighed again, this time irritated.
"That doesn't help me at all."
Hermione glanced at Harry and went to his bedside, pulling the blanket up around his shivering form as he lay down again.
"What about you?"
"Sick," Harry said, closing his eyes and teeth chattering. Hermione frowned, pressing her hand against Harry's forehead.
"Your fever is getting worse, you shouldn't have come outside."
"That's what I told him," Ron supplied. "I wanted to go."
"Neither of you should be out of bed, especially outside. It's freezing out there."
Hermione paced back and forth, wondering what she could do. Harry could see she was on the verge of tears again and cracked an eye open.
"Hermione," he murmured. "Calm down."
Hermione didn't listen and Ron sighed.
"Hermione, please."
"Shut up, Ron! I'm trying to think."
Ron settled into his blankets a bit further.
"Ron, would the tent have a first-aid kit in it?" Hermione asked suddenly, looking at Ron. He looked at her blankly.
"What?"
"A first aid kit, it's the same tent we took to the Quiddich World Cup, was there a first aid kit?"
"I … I don't know." Ron sputtered but Hermione was already in the washroom, checking every nook and cranny.
"Aha!" she exclaimed, returning to the table with a small red bag emblazoned with a white cross. She unzipped it, pleased to see it was fully stocked. She took the thermometer out of its case and shook it – it was an old mercury one, evidence as to how old the kit really was – and then stuck it in Harry's mouth before he could protest. It didn't matter much, though, as Harry was feeling worse by the minute. He simply tightened his lips around the device and pulled his blanket tighter around himself.
Hermione continued to examine every item she pulled out, Ron watching from his bunk. Finally she found what she was looking for – a bottle of paracetamol. The blue label with yellow letters was faded but much to her relief, the bottle was full and the date of expiration had not yet passed.
"What are those?" Ron asked as Hermione opened the bottle and counted the pills out into her hand. Harry opened his eyes at the question, squinting to see.
"Paracetamol." Hermione answered, placing the pills on the table as she fetched two tumblers. "Aguamenti," she murmured, watching the glasses fill with clear water. She turned, handing Ron the pills and glass. Ron frowned.
"What do they do?" he asked. Hermione frowned.
"Surely you've taken paracetamol before."
Ron shook his head.
"Mum always had some sort of cure or spell up her sleeve. We've never used Muggle medicine."
"It'll help you feel better." Hermione said lamely. "Just swallow them."
Hermione glanced at Harry, who was as pale as his pillowcase. She slid the thermometer from his mouth and glanced at it.
"Not good," she said with a sigh, putting the thermometer down and retrieving Harry's pills. She helped him sit up and had just handed him the pills when Ron went into a coughing fit. His water splashed from its glass and Hermione hurried to take it before the glass could fall to the ground and shatter.
"You're alright," Hermione said as Ron coughed and spluttered, his face turning red. "Just breathe."
"I'm," gasp "Trying."
Ron continued to cough harshly and Hermione's eyes flickered to Harry. He'd swallowed his pills with ease and was already curled up in the far corner of his bunk, eyes squeezed tightly closed. Hermione noticed his glasses were hung on the metal bar that supported the top bunk.
"'Mione," Ron croaked and Hermione glanced up. "Think … Gonna be … sick."
In an instant, Hermione had summoned a basin and had it in Ron's lap. Her hand had slid behind his back to help him sit and she was, unconsciously, rubbing small circles into his shoulder. Ron finally caught a breath and the tent was quiet, save Ron's ragged breathing.
"Alright?" Hermione asked, sympathy slipping into her voice. Ron swallowed and nodded, though he didn't move away from the bin just yet.
"Couldn't swallow the pills," Ron wheezed. "They triggered a coughing fit."
"Did you manage to get them down?"
Ron shook his head and held out his right hand, showing her the three wet, somewhat chewed capsules. Hermione sighed and Ron felt his ears turn pink.
"You'd think there's nothing to it," he muttered.
"It's fine," Hermione said a bit harsher than she intended. "Do you want to lie back down?"
Ron nodded miserably and Hermione took the unused basin and held out her hands for the pills. Ron, feeling like a burden, dropped them into her outstretched palm and then turned so his back was to her.
Hermione, feeling slightly sorry for her tone, wrinkled her nose at the pills when she knew Ron wasn't watching. She threw them outside before digging around in her bag to find her mortar and pestle. She set it on the table, got three more aspirin tablets, and ground them up with ease before adding them to a fresh glass of water.
"Ron?" she said quietly, so as not to disturb the now-sleeping Harry.
"What?"
"I have medicine for you."
"Bloody hell, Hermione, I told you I can't take them. I'm not going to try again."
"They're not pills," Hermione replied, which caused Ron to roll over. His hardened face softened when he saw the glass Hermione was holding out to him and his eyes flickered to the mortar and pestle before settling on her.
"Thanks," he said, sitting up and taking the glass. He drank the three mouthfuls.
"You're welcome."
For a fleeting moment, Ron and Hermione's eyes locked on each other as the glass was suspended between them.
"You, ugh, try to get some sleep." Hermione stuttered and Ron nodded.
"Yeah, of course."
Hermione, unsure about what just happened, turned away. She cleaned up the mortar and pestle before neatly arranging the medical supplies on the table. She checked on Harry, placed a compress on his burning forehead, and then went outside with her book and blanket to keep watch.
Like I said, ideas are more than welcome and credit given of course! Please review =)