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Who Says? I Say. - Ron/Hermione fic (M, cold)


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For Cheech. Enjoy!!

Harry Potter-verse fic, featuring Ron/Hermione (post-War, living together)


“I’m sorry, Annie, I’m going to have to take today off,” Hermione said via the Floo to her office at the Ministry. “Ron’s got a rotten bout of the flu and I’d rather not leave him to his own devices.”

Her co-worker smiled knowingly.

“When my Talbot gets a cold, he might as well be down with pneumonia the way he carries on about it. Tell him to feel better, Hermione!”

“Thanks, Annie. Give my apologies to Jeth.”

Pulling her hair out from the fireplace and smoothing back her hair, Hermione stood and went about putting on the kettle for tea.

“Hermione?” Ron’s voice called huskily from down the hall. He was sticking his head out of the door of their master bedroom, dressed in full pajamas, his red hair sticking out at all angles.

“Coming, love,” she replied. “Just putting tea on.”

“Honey in mine, please,” he croaked. “No lemon.”

“Yes, love,” she called back. “Back in bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Need the loo,” he said, shuffling down the hall to the washroom. As the kettle came to a boil, she heard him blowing his nose softly. He emerged a few minutes later, a bit of toilet tissue held against his nose, sniffling. She watched as he went back into the bedroom.

Tea in a large mug, she went to his bedside. He was tucked in, propped up on several pillows, the box of tissues from their nightstand sitting on the bed by his side.

“My nose hurts,” he muttered, pawing at it with the back of his hand. “It’s itchy and-”

He broke off, breath catching in his throat. His eyes flitted shut and he pitched forward, sneezing harshly into the arm of his pajama top.


Hermione set his tea down on the nightstand and plucked a tissue from the box, carefully dabbing at the edge of his nose.

“You’ve got tissues. Why use your sleeve?”

“Reflex. Don’t fight with me when I’m sick,” he groaned.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat on the edge of the bed, pushing back Ron’s fringe and kissing him on the brow.

“Did you give your mum this much trouble when you were sick as a kid?”

“No,” he admitted, rubbing at his nose again. It was quickly becoming the same colour as his hair. “But she made chicken soup and gave us some really good potions.”

“Is this a roundabout way of saying you want chicken soup?” she asked, giving him a teasing grin.

“No, I’m fine,” he said with a congested snort. “Couldn’t taste it anyway, and I’m not hungry. I’m just achy and hot and sniffly.”

“Just relax,” she soothed, running her fingers through his bed-mussed hair. His eyes closed and for a moment, she thought he was falling asleep, but his head snapped forward, just barely avoiding her arm as he sneezed congestedly.


“Bless you, Ro-”


The second sneeze caught her even more off guard.

“Bless you!” she exclaimed, pressing a fresh tissue to Ron’s inflamed nose. He blew lightly, quickly abandoned the tissue as he dissolved into a coughing fit. Hermione put a hand on his shuddering chest and rubbed gently. The fit quickly subsided and Ron took a long, sniffling breath.

“Owww,” he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Sinus headache?” she asked.

He nodded miserably.

Her fingers ran down the sides of his nose, putting a light pressure on the blocked passages.

“No fever,” she said as she continued to stroke the lines of his cheekbones, sweeping down under his eyes. “Just a bad headcold.”

He snorted in agreement.

“Drink a bit of your tea and I’ll go get the Pepper-Up.”

She put the steaming mug in his hands and planted another kiss on his brow.

“Don’t spill on the bedsheets,” she said before she could stop herself.

“Yes, Professor Hermione,” he drawled, giving her his trademark eye-roll. She was glad to see he still had the spirit to joke around.

Fetching the Pepper-Up from the medicine chest in the washroom, she dosed out a glass and brought it back to Ron.

“I hate this stuff,” he grumbled, taking the cup from her.

“It helps,” she reminded him.

“Not nearly enough to have to deal with the bloody smoking ears,” he growled, swallowing the potion anyway.

His ears slowly began to leak steam and his breathing evened out, the congestion lessening. His nose leaked a bit and he sniffled, his nose itching.


He managed to catch the sneeze in a tissue and balled it up, tossing it in the waiting rubbish bin. The steam around his ears swirled in reaction to the sneeze.

“This stuff always makes me sneeze more,” he said.

“Clears you out,” Hermione replied knowingly. “Better out than in, they say.”

“Who says?” Ron asked, fighting another tickle that grew in the back of his nose. “Saint Mungo’s? What do they-”

His breath hitched again and he pulled another tissue to his nose.


“Bless you twice,” Hermione said. “And I say.”

“Well, if you say, it must be true,” Ron teased, wiping his nose.

“And I say you’ve got to rest to get better,” Hermione replied. “So lie down and get some sleep.”

“You’re so bossy,” Ron muttered, sinking down under the sheets.

Hermione smoothed out the covers over him and kissed his cheek.

“Sleep, love,” she said. “I’ll take good care of you.”

“You’re good at everything,” Ron replied drowsily. “I have no doubt you will.”

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New Harry Potter stuff is soooooo appreciated! Thank you so, so much! Everything you write, especially in that fandom, is just SOOOOO good! Can't get enough. :poster_oops:

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Thank you very much for this. It was so amazingly cute, and great writting too.

You captured Hermione's character extremely well also!


You've also helped in making my crush for Ron Weasley that I had when I was 8, start to grow again


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Awwww.... very cute. :P I can imagine them being just like that (when Ron feels more secure in their relationship). Thanks for sharing. :P

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