Disclaimer: Unless I'm very much mistaken, anything that you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.
Summer had just started, and it didn't look like it would be very fun. Hermione - after spending a few weeks traveling in India with her parents - had just arrived at the Burrow, only to find things had gone to hell in a hand basket. Harry wasn't able to make it, security issues and all that, and most of the Weasleys had come down with a magical strain of the flu.
Hermione, with a sigh and a nod, had decided to stay and help take care of them. There wasn't much else she could do; Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, Fred and George were up to their eyeballs taking care of the rest of their family, and Hermione felt it was the least she could do to help. Of course, after dropping their precious daughter off her parents had promptly hopped a plane to Morocco, so there wasn't anywhere else she could go at any rate.
The first thing she had asked was something along the lines of "Well, aren't there spells or potions for this?", and she was promptly informed that magical diseases needed to be treated in the Muggle way, since magical diseases would absorb any magical treatment. Put out that she knew nothing about this, she set to work researching right away. Her findings supported what they had said:
Though non-magical diseases can be treated by any method, Magical or Muggle, a flu of Magical origin (see ''Intentional or Accidental Spells with Sickness Inducing Primary or Secondary Effects") can only be treated by non-magic ways. Any Magical method, be it potions or charms, will only be absorbed by the disease, feeding it. This can either prolong or increase the symptoms, causing much discomfort to the victim. Since Muggle methods offer no magical sustenance to the disease, it will eventually fade.
The most well-known exception is the Black Charm (called 'Bubonic Plague' by some Muggles), which was caused by a spell cast by the Dark Witch (see "'The Queen': Catherine the Dark Witch"), and could only be cured by Magical means. Consequently, millions of Muggles died from…
Hermione shut the book with a snap. Then, realising it would actually be very good supplemental reading for History of Magic, she went back through to find her page, bookmarked it, and snapped it shut again.
"What did that poor book ever do to you?" a voice asked from the doorway. Without looking, Hermione could tell who it was. Well, kind of.
"George?" she asked, turning around on the bottom bunk of the twins' bed, which she had been sitting on. He shook his head, smiling slightly.
"Fred then," she said. He shook his head again, and Hermione sighed in exasperation. He laughed.
"Yes, yes, I am Fred," he said with a grin. "I think," he added, suddenly looking very thoughtful. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"They have potions for people like you," she said, trying to keep a straight face. Fred put a hand to his chest, as though she had wounded him deeply.
"Your words, such bitter words! How they sting and burn!" he moaned, falling theatrically over her lap. She pushed him, causing him to roll off the bed and onto the floor. He stood back up, rubbing his elbow and smiling ruefully.
"Shouldn't you be helping your mum?" Hermione asked, looking behind him through the doorway and into the hall. It occurred to her that this was the most quiet the house had been since she arrived over six hours ago.
"I'm off duty," he said with a sigh, plopping down beside her. The worn springs of his mattress creaked under his weight as he bounced up and down slightly.
"Poor thing," Hermione said in her best imitation of Mrs. Weasley, "Would you like some tea? Fruit juice? We can't have you getting sick, now." Fred shuddered involuntarily.
"Even the mere mention of juice makes me gag. Did you know that's what mum's been feeding us off of? I've haven't had much else for days," he said seriously. Hermione smiled uncertainly, unable to tell if that was a joke. "Well, that and some gruel dad gave her the recipe for called 'health batter'," he added, shuddering again. "Do Muggles really eat that stuff? It's disgusting." Hermione shrugged.
"I suppose some do, but I've never heard-"
"Ha!" Fred exclaimed, cutting her off. "I knew it! I told dad there was no way that anyone would eat that, and Muggles had more sense!" Hermione wasn't quite sure what to say to that, and was spared having to answer by another person bounding into the room.
"George!" the incoming twin exclaimed. Hermione whipping around to face whichever twin she had been talking to.
"Fred," he corrected with a grin.
"Fred!" George (or was it really George? It was becoming difficult to keep them straight) exclaimed.
"You can't even keep yourselves in order!" Hermione said huffily.
"Of course we can," Fred said in mock indignation.
"We just can't tell which is which," George added.
With another huff (those twins could be so very annoying) Hermione flounced out of the room to help Mrs. Weasley do whatever she needed help with.
A/N: Hi all, I just wanted to get this story off the ground. The beginning is a bit short, but hopefully the chapters will get longer. I'm going to try and update either this or War of the Weasleys every week, and hopefully both. Please review!