Author: Lee Velviet

Disclaimer: You all know who this stuff belongs to - J.K. Rowling, The WB, etc. If I owned any of this I'd be disgustingly rich and watching them film Harry Potter and the Chamber Of Secrets - heh, heh. I'm so evil.

Summary: I wrote this while I was sick last week-can you tell? Ah, the wonder of prescription drugs! They made me feel fuzzy, and in turn I wrote this fuzzy, fluffy, TOTALLY unrealistic fic. Anyway, it made me feel better! Ginny's sick- can witches get sick? - and just when she's feeling her lowest, a certain green eyed wizard pays her a surprising visit. Awwww. Hope you like!)

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Ginny Weasley was ill.

She lay on her bed at the Burrow, miserable. It was raining outside, which didn't help her feel any better. She reached up and rubbed her nose, massaging the aching sinuses underneath. It was just a nasty head cold, with the occasional cough. The pepper-up potion her Mum had given her had not worked. It was a Muggle cold, and she'd been informed it would not go away for days! She wanted to slug the old Muggle who'd sneezed on her in the Muggle Post Office, where she went to post Harry a letter when no one would let her borrow an owl.

Ginny listened to the patter of the rain on the roof. She heard a muffled ka-boom of an explosion from the twins' room above her, and she would have grinned if the sound hadn't made her swollen feeling, already aching head pound even more fiercely. She opened her mouth to yell but she had forgotten her voice had all but disappeared.

Ginny rolled her eyes, feeling forlorn. No one, not even her sweet, loving, self-sacrificing Mum relished the idea of coming near her. No one wanted to catch the Muggle cold. She sneezed violently into a tissue and groaned. She didn't blame them.

What really disappointed her was the fact that Harry was due to arrive at the Burrow any time. There were two weeks left until the start of the new term at Hogwarts, and it would be Harry and Ron's last year there, and her sixth. She'd been so excited about seeing him again. They'd grown a bit close over the summer, writing to each other often.

Now she'd never get to see him, and she didn't want him to see her like this, hair unkempt and straggly, circles under her eyes, her small nose a shiny red, and dripping an unspeakably evil substance. Ginny rolled her head carefully on her pillow to look out her window. Sleepy and sad, she watched the rain roll down her window until she finally fell asleep.

Ginny awoke feeling hot. Everything seemed okay until she tried to swallow and she choked, coughing dryly. She opened her eyes and saw Harry sitting next to her, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked unusually somber. Ginny knew she was dreaming; it wasn't unusual - she dreamt of her friend often.

His hair looked wet, and the oversized flannel shirt she'd often seen him in since she'd first met him looked damp as well.

"You're awake," he said softly, smiling, leaning forward to speak to her.

Ginny shook her head, knowing she couldn't talk. I'm asleep, how else would you be here? I'm sick, and you can't be around me. You can't go to school sick, she told him in her head.

Harry frowned and put his hand on her forehead. He sighed. "Well, you've got a fever." He got up and left the room.

Ginny frowned, staring mutely after him. Damn, it was hot! The door began to warp before her eyes and she closed them, feeling very odd.

Something cold and wet was laid across her forehead. She opened her eyes. Harry was all fuzzy, except for his eyes. His eyes were sort of floating there, bright and sharp and green behind his glasses. She blinked at them, and then giggled rustily, bringing on another dry cough.

She heard Harry move again, and a moment later a glass was held up to her lips. She barely managed to lift her head, and she felt his hand slip under her neck to help support it. She took a few grateful sips and wondered if she could get Mum to bring her a cool drink when she woke up.

"Poor Ginny," she heard him mutter, as he sat the glass on her bedside table with a quiet clink. "You've probably never been sick in you're entire life."

Ginny rolled her head on the pillow.

Harry pulled his chair closer and took her hand in his. He produced another cool cloth from somewhere and began to gently wash her hand and wrist. "You know, in all the years I've lived with the Dursley's, I've never once had a cold. You can imagine who did all the fetching and carrying, and washing and cleaning and such when someone fell ill." He grinned at her, bathing her neck and fiery cheeks. "I know a lot about Muggle colds, which, I think, is the only reason Ron will let me be in here alone with you. I think he believes I have dishonorable intentions towards you or something." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Ginny tried to laugh again and coughed. As if I'd ever be that lucky, she thought, a grin pulling at her parched lips.

He looked thoughtful again, and pulled a small white bottle from his pocket. "Here," he said, shaking out two small white objects. Ginny thought vaguely that they looked a bit like Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, only thinner. "I swiped them from Aunt Petunia's medicine cabinet when your Dad and Ron came to pick me up and said you were ill. They'll reduce your fever."

She trusted him, and it was only a dream anyway, so she opened her mouth obediently and he popped the little things inside. They tasted bitter, and Ginny wanted to spit them out, but Harry gave her a drink again and she swallowed, the water washing the taste away.

"Good girl," he said softly, smiling in satisfaction. He patted her arm and leaned back in his chair.

I'm so glad you're here, she wanted to say. She wanted to thank him for helping her. But she couldn't talk, and it was just a dream, so she just watched him intently. She had the awful feeling that she wouldn't get to see him much after he graduated Hogwarts. The thought terrified her.

"I missed you this summer," he said suddenly, and she could feel his thumb running across her palm soothingly. It made her sleepy.

I missed you too, she thought, her eyes drooping. Don't ever leave me, Harry…

"Sleep, get some rest, Ginny," he said quietly as she dropped off to sleep. "I'll take care of you. I promise. I'll always take care of you."

-

Her hand brushed something silky - no, not quite silky - it felt more like velvet, coarse and slightly rough, but shiny, and it was warm. Ginny pushed her fingers through the mass of texture and realized it was hair. She had to peel open her eyes. The first thing she saw was the cracked plaster ceiling. Her eyes focused and she looked down. Her hand was resting on the back of Harry's head. Her fingers sifted idly through his untidy hair again, and thinking the shiny strands indeed looked like black velvet, and then he turned his head where it lay on the bed, and looked at her sleepily, his glasses gone and his eyes soft and unfocused. "Hi," he said huskily.

"Harry!" She croaked, and then coughed roughly. She jerked her hand away from his hair. She rubbed her eyes and looked at him again. He was still there. "What are you doing here?" She managed in a barely there whisper.

He sat up, stretching and rubbing the back of his neck and shoulders. "I've been here since yesterday, Gin." He laughed quietly. He covered a yawn, clearing his throat, and reached over to lift his glasses off the night table, and slid them on.

Ginny wanted to dive under the covers - she had to look a fright.

"Everyone out there thinks you're deathly ill," he chuckled, handing her a glass of water. She managed to sit up and sip it. "I'd almost forgotten that Wizards hardly ever get sick-it's no wonder everyone's so scared to come in here. They think they're going to catch it and die."

She grinned. "You were really here then?"

"Of course. I couldn't leave you laying in here alone and sick." He looked at her gravely. "You should have heard the things you said during that fever." He arched a brow and made a clucking noise with his tongue.

Ginny stared at him, horrified.

"Calm down, I was just teasing, I'm sorry." He grinned at her and stood up, groaning as his stiff muscles protested. "I'm going to go and tell everyone you're awake, and get us some breakfast. Are you hungry?"

Ginny nodded. She was.

"All right. Back in a bit." He winked at her and went out, closing the door softly behind him.

Ginny smiled and slid back down in her bed. For the first time in several days she felt happy. Harry Potter had sat with her through a fever and slept next to her bed in order to be there for her. How many girls could say that?

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(::Sigh:: Harry is such a sweetie. I'm usually a Draco girl, but- ::again with the sigh:: Would Draco really lower himself to play nursemaid? I wonder. Let me know what you think! Thanks! - Lee)