Last Peaceful Days
a Harry Potter story
by Hermione Eveningfall
When Harry awoke the morning after Dumbledore's funeral, he felt a pounding headache invade his muddled brain. Shivering a little, he struggled to sit, and realized that Ron had fallen asleep in a chair beside his bed. His friend was snoring loudly, his mouth half-open as his head leaned against the wall. Confused, Hary sat up a bit straighter, rubbing his nose with the back of his wrist.
He felt so drained, so cold, so...empty. Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts headmaster--the one wizard Lord Voldemort always feared--was dead. Dead, at the hands of Severus Snape, whom he'd trusted so much. `Too much,' Harry thought bitterly, coughing a little.
"Ron?" he reached over and gave his friend's shoulder a shake. He vaguely remembered the ceremony; Fawkes' melancholy music. He remembered the great white tomb being lowered into the ground, but after hearing the quiet thud as it hit the dark, hard earth, all that remained was darkness. A frigid darkness, similar to the feeling he experienced while being attacked by the Dementors his third year. It engulfed his entire body, and after that, he knew no more.
Shivering again, Harry pulled his blankets more tightly around himself; the chill still hadn't worn off quite yet. "HuhKESHHH!" he quickly turned away. He paused, the itch in his nose still lingering. "KuhSHEHH!"
Ron grunted, his eyes fluttering open.
"Sorry," Harry apologized, realizing just how hoarse his voice sounded. "Ron, w-what are you d-doing here?" he asked, through chattering teeth. "I mean...sitting there?" he added, reaching for a tissue from the box on the windowsill.
"Doing all right, mate?" Ron asked, sounding concerned, cringing as Harry blew his nose. Before Harry could respond, there was a knock on the door. "Who's there?" Ron called, and Harry raised an eyebrow.
"It's me," Hermione's voice answered.
"Come in, then."
Hermione opened the door to their dormitory, and dashed across the room to Harry's bed. "Oh thank goodness!" she breathed, throwing her arms around him tightly. "We thought..."
"What happened to me?" Harry asked. "I don't remember anything except the tomb going into the ground last night. After that it's just...darkness."
"Well," Ron cleared his throat. "You sort of...fainted, Harry."
Harry blushed crimson, though his embarrassment was only emphasized by another set of sneezes that released themselves against his will. "KESHHH! HuhKSHHH!"
"Bless you," said Hermione softly, rubbing his back as she sat on the edge of his mattress. "Yes, you did faint," she explained. "From the shock, no doubt. We wanted to bring you to the hospital wing, but as we were bringing you there, and you fought us."
"So Madame Pomfrey decided to take you here," Ron added. "Figured it would cause a little less trauma waking in your own bed rather than the hospital wing. So she spent a bit of time with you..."
"You fainted again," Hermione broke in. "She said you were coming down with a chill from all of your, well...travels. But truly, Harry, how do you feel now? Are you any better?"
Harry's already pounding head spun with the information; he'd passed out, in front of the entire school. No doubt everyone would be whispering about it over the next couple of days. At least it was the end of the term, and they would all be leaving soon.
"Just really tired," Harry replied. "And stuff...HuhKSHHH! HuhKESHHH!"
"Bless you," Hermione and Ron told him in unison.
"Stuffy. Thanks," he muttered. "You two didn't have to stay with me all night."
Hermione smiled. "Well, we took shifts of course. I stayed with you first...it made more sense for Ron to take the last shift, since it's his dormitory, too. Madame Pomfrey didn't want you left alone."
"What about Seamus, Dean and Neville? They were here, right?" Harry asked, gazing around. "I wouldn't have been alone, really." The dormitory was empty at the moment; it was a weekend day, so clearly his other housemates had gone down to brunch.
"It's all right, Harry," Hermione promised. "We didn't mind taking care of you. You slept most of the time, anyway."
Harry hugged his knees to his chest, coughing into his fist. "I...just can't believe he's gone," he whispered, feeling a single tear roll down his cheek.
"Harry," Hermione sighed softly, "it's not your fault."
"I wonder who is going to replace him?" Ron thought out loud, and Harry looked up.
"No one can replace Dumbledore," he muttered, and Hermione shrugged.
"I'll bet on Professor McGonagall," she replied.
"I'm...not coming back next year," Harry said softly, gazing around the dormitory he'd called home for the past five years. "I can't."
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. "We figured you were going to say something like that," Ron agreed.
"Are you going to go and hunt down the rest of Voldemort's horcruxes, Harry?" Hermione asked, as Harry lay back against his pillows. For the first time, Ron didn't flinch at the sound of Voldemort's true name.
"It's what Dumbledore would have expected," Harry replied. "I'm the one who is meant to destroy Voldemort." He coughed again, burying his nose in the tissues again. "HuhKESHHH!"
"Bless you," Hermione told him with a small smile.
"But clearly," Harry sighed, "I can't do anything until I get over this cold. Wouldn't do me any good trying to use spells I cant even pronounce because I'm so clogged up."
Hermione felt his forehead. "Well, you've a bit of a fever," she told him.
"Harry," Ron spoke up, as the door opened, and Seamus stepped in.
"Oh..." he stood looking at them uncomfortably. "Just...comin' to get my things. I'm leavin' with me Mum today."
"That's okay," Harry insisted, watching as Seamus went to his bunk and began putting the last of his things in his trunk.
"Harry, where are you planning on going if you don't return to school?" Hermione asked, taking his hand and holding it tightly. He shrugged.
"I'd like to stop at Godric's Hollow," he told her, waving as Seamus drug his trunk out of the common room.
"Was good knowin' you," he told the three of them, as the door closed.
"That's where you were born, right?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded.
"Yeah...where everything started. Something tells me I need to go there." He didn't know how to put it, but he enjoyed having Hermione's hand on his. In fact, as much as he hated to be fussed over when he wasn't feeling well, he felt as though he needed the company of his two best friends at this point. Their presence was comforting; moreso than they probably even realized. "Would be nice to visit my parent's graves. Then..."
"Harry," Ron spoke, "we're going with you."
"What?" Harry stared. "No, you can't, it's too dangerous."
Hermione shook her head. "We're here for you, Harry. We'll go with you to your Aunt and Uncle's house if you're going there before Godric's Hollow, and then...wherever fate takes us. We've been with you through everything," she added. "The Sorcerer's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets...rescuing Sirius..."
"KuSHHUUH! KESHhhhh!" Harry snapped forward, using his free hand to cover his mouth. Hermione released her grip, allowing him to grab a few more tissues. "Dat's dot decessary, really," he insisted, giving his nose another blow. "What would your parid's thig?"
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. "We need to be with you, Harry," Ron insisted. Harry turned from one friend to the other, knowing that he was not going to be successful in changing their minds. He opened his arms, accepting hugs from each of them, just as Madame Pomfrey entered.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter," she announced, as Ron and Hermione broke away. "I do hope you're feeling better this morning? Gave us a bit of a fright yesterday."
Harry shrugged. "Ib sig," he told her. "But otherwise fide."
"Not a surprise at all, considering what you went through over the past couple of days," she replied. "Brought a flask of pepper up," she held up the goblet. "And spend the rest of the day in bed. Thank you both for keeping an eye on him," she added to Ron and Hermione.
"Of course," Hermione replied.
"You two should go on and get some breakfast. Well, brunch at this point, and bring up something for Harry."
"Go od," Harry told them, as he took the flask from the nurse, chugging the potion in three gulps. "I'b dot goig adywhere." He cringed as the steam poured from his ears; the usual result for the potion.
"I'll be back to check on you as well later on," Madame Pomfrey added, once Ron and Hermione had gone to the Great Hall. "Just take it easy, Potter."
Harry watched as the nurse swept away, feeling warmth gradually spread through his body again. Once the dormitory was quiet again, Harry shifted in bed to get more comfortable. This was probably the last peaceful couple of days he was going to be able to spend with his friends; it only figured that he was going to be sick for most of it. Still, he treasured any time he spent with them. Harry removed his glasses, rubbing his aching eyes, and set those on the windowsill next to the tissues.
"Kshhh!" he sneezed softly into his pillow folds, pulling the blankets up to his neck. He tried not to think about the danger that loomed ahead; his mind drifted towards imagining the beautiful summer wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delaceur, their smiling faces as they stood at the alter, surrounded by loving family and friends. "And that," Harry told himself, as a gentle breeze blew against the closed window, "is how it should be."
The characters names and places do not belong to me. They are the property of J.K. Rowling, and though I really adore her world very much, I would never steal it from her. ;o) I'm nicer than that haha.
This is in response to the weekly hatch #90: After getting through some incredibly stressful andtime-consuming event (take your pick) Harry comes down sick and regrets to admit he needs some care. But Ron and Hermione merely integrate the care-giving into their usual snuggly, loving relationship with Harry as they all wind down and take some time for themselves.
This is set after Professor Dumbledore's funeral at the end of "Half Blood Prince".