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HP - Fame isn't everything (M)


silentdreamer789

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Hi.

This is a response to a plot bunny over on the sneezefic group. It's far from amazing, but I hope you enjoy.

Title: Fame isn’t everything.

Author: silentdreamer789

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

Rating: Ummm...not an 18+? Mild child abuse?

Summmary: Ron and Harry are both sick during the summer holidays. Fame really isn't everything.

*********

“HI-Shoo!” Ron Weasley sneezed violently into his handkerchief, nose streaming. Groaning, he blew lustily, emptying his throbbing nose for what felt like the thousandth time that morning.

“Bless you Ron!” Mrs Weasley exclaimed as she bustled into his bedroom, levitating a heavily loaded tray in front of her. “I can’t imagine where you caught such a terrible cold. It’s July!” Ron was saved from answering by another loud sneeze, and for once was grateful for the large hanky, as it hid his blush at his Mother’s question. He knew perfectly well where he’d caught his cold. Snape had been sneezing violently all through his and Harry’s detention on the last night of term, but he really didn’t want his mother to know that he’d received a five hour detention for setting off Fred and George’s fireworks in Malfoy’s cauldron. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d be too thrilled with him.

As it was, though, she was fussing around the room, plumping his pillows and smoothing his sheets. Satisfied, she lowered the tray onto his lap, casting a quick anti-spill charm. Ron was grateful for this a moment later as he rocked forward with a loud “HUH-shoo!”, quickly followed by an equally violent “HAH-shoo! HurOOOOSHHoooo!” Clucking sympathetically, Mrs Weasley plucked a clean handkerchief from the stack on his bedside table, gently wiping his sore nose. “Uuuuggghh.” Ron groaned, taking the handkerchief from his mother and blowing wetly. “I feel Tewwible. Ha-CHOOOOO!”

“Oh, darling, I know. I’m so sorry about the pepper-up. ” Ron had managed to contract one of the few cold viruses that had no reaction to pepper-up. He hadn’t been surprised. He couldn’t imagine Snape suffering through a cold if there was any other option, and the man had certainly been suffering, generously sharing the joy.

“Id’s okay, bub. Id’s nod your fauld….Hah….HAH…..HAH-CHOOO! HURSHOO!” He blew his nose again while his mother stroked his hair soothingly.

“Try some soup, darling. It will help with the congestion.” Sniffling wetly, Ron accepted the spoon she handed to him, moaning with relief as the warm soup calmed his throat and sinuses. “HUR-Chooo! *sniffle* thags, bub.”

**********

As he sneezed violently for the umpteenth time that day, Harry cursed Snape with every swear word in his vocabulary. Why couldn’t the man have kept his germs to himself? What kind of sadistic git gave five hour detentions on the last night of the year anyway? Harry sighed at himself for even thinking such an idiotic question. Snape seemed to take an unnecessary amount of pleasure in detentions, even when he himself was ill. Hell, Harry thought, it probably made him feel better. Pity the same couldn’t be said for Harry.

His throat had been uncomfortably dry and scratchy on the train to Kings Cross yesterday, but he’d hoped that it would pass. That hope had been dashed when he’d been unpleasantly jerked awake at four in the morning, caught in the throes of a violent sneezing fit. That had been two days ago, and the symptoms were, if anything, worsening. His nose was red, sore and swollen, his throat felt like someone had rubbed it with sandpaper, and his head pounded painfully in time with his heart. “Hi-Shoo!” Oh, and he mustn’t forget the sneezing.

Reaching into the pockets of his jeans, he pulled out a reasonably dry length if toilet paper, wiping his sore nose with a wince. Oh, how he wished for hankies right now. Or even tissues. The nice ones, with that lotion stuff that Aunt Petunia always got Dudley when he was sick. Or, to be honest, even the cheap ones from the local supermarket would be better than his present articles. Hell, even normal toilet paper would be preferable. The stuff he was allowed was so cheap and thin that he couldn’t even blow his nose for fear of destroying it completely. Or sneeze, for that matter. “Hitshoo! Hu-TISHoooo! Huh-chooo! Ha…ha….HAHWOOCHOO!!! Uuurrrgghh.” His nose felt like it was about to drop off.

“Boy!” His Uncle’s car had pulled up while he was musing. “What are you doing lazing around? If that fence isn’t finished, there’ll be no dinner for you tonight, do you hear me?! Get on with it!”

Bowing his head, Harry quickly got back to work painting the fence, muttering “Yes, Uncle Vernod. HAH-TISHOOOO!”

Stomping over to his nephew, Vernon swung him round by the shoulder. “What did you say, boy?”

“N-Nothing, Uncle Vernod. I sdeezed. I hab a cold. Ha-TISHooo!” He managed to turn his head aside just in time to prevent sneezing on his uncle. He didn’t even want to imagine the consequences should he have done so.

His Uncle scowled at him. “Then you’re definitely not getting any tea. Don’t want you giving your freakish germs to Pet and Dudders. Finish up here, then go straight to your cupboard, do you hear me?”

Harry hung his head in defeat. He wasn’t really hungry, but he’d so hoped for a nice cup of tea to ease his throat. Stupid Snape.

***********

That night, Ron Weasley curled up in his nice warm bed, and thanked Merlin that he wasn’t at Hogwarts. He enjoyed his time there, sure, but nowhere beat your own bed and your loving Mother when you were sick. Snuggling down beneath his duvet, glass of water by his bed and a clean, dry handkerchief clutched in one hand, Ron Weasley slowly drifted into a warm, healing slumber.

Miles away, Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, lay hunched in his cupboard under the stairs, desperately clutching a raggedy old blanket around his thin shoulders. His breath rattled in his chest, his cheek stung from his Aunt’s slap and his back throbbing from his cousins ‘playful wrestling‘. Coughing painfully, he eventually drifted off into a restless slumber, wishing that he was home.

**********

So, there you go. My second fic. Hope you liked. I'd really appreciate any comments, positive or otherwise.

thanx

silentdreamer789

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I like it very much.

Any more please?

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Nice story! Seems a shame that Harry has to suffer again, but that's what he seems to get. \\\\\\\\even JKR seems to feel a bit sorry for him.

Hmm;how old is Rupert Grint these days?

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  • 5 weeks later...

Oooh, I feel so bad for Harry~~ I really like the contrast you offer between their two experiences...it must have been fun to write about two sick wizard boys :cryhappy: Excellent job :)

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