A/N: Hi! Long time no see, unless you are a reader of my other story Give Us a Shot (and if you're not then maybe you should give it a shot, huh? ;D)!

Ok, I won't keep you long, I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. I just didn't feel inspired for this story. But now that I've got a cold, I suddenly had this urge to make Harry suffer with me.

This is the first chapter I've written for this story in which they are still at Hogwarts and not a couple (yet), so please keep in mind while reading.

Thanks for reading, following/faving and most importantly reviewing!

Take care! -xo


25. She always takes care of me

"Harry! What happened? Are you okay?"

Hermione burst into the Boys' Dormitory of the seventh years followed by Neville who looked like he was ready to flee any second. An anxious Hermione wasn't something anyone could handle, especially if the subject of her worry was Harry, as was the case.

"I'm fine, Hermione." Harry said, at least tried to say. His sore throat was making it very difficult to talk. "It was an accident."

"Neville said you fell from your broom." Hermione approached the bed in two strides, her eyes were going over every inch of skin she could see which wasn't very much as he was buried under the covers. Satisfied when she couldn't detect any visible scar, she sat beside him.

"These things happen in Quidditch." Harry offered with a sniff. His nose was so full, he could swear he hadn't breathed since he woke up.

"You were still on the ground, Harry." Neville said timidly, as if he didn't want make himself visible but he was worried as well. "And you said to call for Her-"

"I'm just ill and for a second I lost my balance, that's all." Harry cut him.

"We should go to Madam Pomfrey." Hermione said, standing up. Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. His grip was weak but Hermione wasn't expecting his move and found herself sitting back again.

"No," Harry said, the determination in his voice made Hermione raise her eyebrows in question. "She will keep me overnight, I don't want to stay there all alone."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. It's just a cold. She'll give you some Pepper-Up Potion and send you to your bed."

"Yeah, my bed in the Hospital Wing." He crossed his arms over the covers. "She's never let me go before and I can't risk it."

"Harry…" Hermione sighed. She put her hand on his forehead. Harry closed his eyes at the contact, her hand was cool against his skin but somehow it had warmed his insides. "At least you don't have a fever."

Harry nodded his head positively, thank Merlin, he didn't have a fever. His runny nose and burning eyes were enough to make him feel miserable. He immediately opened his eyes when he felt Hermione got up again.

"Where are you going?" He said, his hoarse voice cracking.

"To bring my stuff here. It looks like you need some company." Hermione smiled amusedly despite her worry, she never knew Harry could be so clingy when he was ill.

"Yeah, I don't want to be alone." Harry confirmed behind the tissue he was wiping his nose with. As he was shoving the used tissue back in to the toilet roll, his eyes caught on Neville. "You can go if you want, Neville. Thank you."

As Neville scurried out of the room, Hermione snorted, "I bet he is afraid of getting ill. Madam Pomfrey makes him nervous. I think she is on his 'Intimidating People List', just below Snape."

Harry tried to laugh but just sneezed, making Hermione take a step back.

"Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly, cutting another tissue from the toilet roll. "Maybe you should go as well. I don't want you to get ill."

Hermione shook her head, "I'll just go get my stuff and be right back."

Harry watched her go with heavy eyes. He didn't remember the last time he felt this way. His head felt like he was carrying a Quaffle instead of a brain, his throat was all dried up due to constantly breathing out of his mouth. His nose was stuffy and his ears were clogged. He sniffed as he rested his head back on his pillow, closing his eyes, he felt them burn beneath his eyelids.

"I'm back." Hermione announced as she entered the dormitory. "Oh, sorry. Were you sleeping?"

Harry opened his eyes, he wanted to shake his head but it required too much effort. "No, can't sleep."

Hermione was once again standing beside him. She pulled the covers and sat down.

"What are you doing? Don't get too close, I'll make you ill."

Hermione rested her back against the headboard and opened her book.

"Don't worry about me. Unlike someone, Madam Pomfrey isn't obsessed with me. I'll just take a Pepper-Up Potion." Hermione looked down and winked at him. "Is there anything you want, Harry?" She asked as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Harry closed his eyes at her touch. She may not have the ability to heal him but her touch was enough to make him feel better.

"No." He whispered. "I'm good."

For a while all Harry heard was the buzzing in his ear while Hermione read beside him. Her fingers were still combing his hair soothingly. Harry wanted to hear her voice but he was too weak to have a conversation.

"'Mione?" He asked, his voice raspy because of his dry throat.

"Yes?" Hermione asked, reaching over him to offer a glass of water to him. She helped Harry sit upright so he could take a sip.

"Thank you." Harry said as he fell down on his pillow once again. It was easier to speak now.

"You're welcome." Hermione smiled softly, "You were saying?"

"Umm…" Harry hesitated. Now that Hermione had stopped caressing his hair, he was back to his unwell state. "Could you maybe read to me?"

"You want me to read to you?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raising in surprise. "I'm reading my Arithmancy textbook, it's not something you'd enjoy."

"It's okay." Harry turned to his side and rest his forehead against her hip. "I just want to hear your voice… It's soothing."

Under normal conditions, his honesty would most probably make him want to dig a hole and climb into it. This was Hermione for Merlin's sake! His best friend! His very attractive female best friend who could make him feel better just by sitting beside him when he felt like shit.

"Okay, I can read aloud if that's what you want." Hermione said softly. She had obviously stored this little moment for further analysis, right now it was about taking care of Harry, not interrogating him about the sweet things he said about her. "Is there anything else you want?"

Harry made an affirmative noise, "Your hand… My hair… Please…" He murmured, tiredness had finally kicked in, making his brain forgot how awful it felt so it could shut down for a few hours.

When he felt Hermione's fingers return to caressing his hair, her short fingernails occasionally scratching his scalp, he breathed out in satisfaction. And when he heard her soft voice reading words he couldn't understand, didn't try to understand, he closed his eyes. The burning behind his eyelids were no longer bothering him.

Hermione was here, she was taking care of him. She had this ability of making everything better. Harry made a mental note to think about this when he was feeling better. But right now all he could do was drift off to a breathless but nonetheless comfortable sleep surrounded by all things Hermione.