Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter... etc.
Ok... so the story got taken down by fanfiction, so I'm trying to keep it low key this time. I'm just going to put up one chapter a day. My appologies again to all who were reading this one and liking it.
WARNING: gay relationship. No sex yet, just a couple of kisses. Don't like it, don't read it.
Harry hid deep in the covers around him. He was sick. Very sick with the flu. The Daily Prophet was plastering grainy and blurred pictures of Harry hurrying through the house on their front pages and claiming that he was deathly ill. Harry couldn't really argue with them. He felt like he was dying from all the aches and pains and the cough and the runny nose. This morning he felt like his body was one huge ache. It had been months since he had been out of the house. And the one time that he left the house he had to get sneezed on by a person with the flu. He shivered and pulled the covers around him tighter. He breathed in deep. His blankets still smelled like him. Draco Malfoy. They had broken up eight months ago. Harry was all ready a recluse because of reporters always trying to get to him and talk to him. He was the savior of the wizarding world after all. Since Draco had left him he got all his food delivered and anything else he needed. He didn't go out. He didn't want to be a part of the world anymore. Now his physical body actually felt as bad as his heart.
"Mr. Harry Potter, sir?" asked a small voice from the door. Harry knew that it was Dobby even though his feverish haze.
"What is it Dobby?" he asked in a rough voice.
"Dobby has brought more food and put it away in the kitchen. Is Harry Potter feeling better today?"
"No, Dobby. I'm not."
"Is there anything Dobby can do to help Harry Potter feel better?"
"No, Dobby. There isn't."
"Will Harry Potter let Dobby write to one of his friends today?"
"No, Dobby. Please don't do that."
"Dobby is scared for Harry Potter." Harry felt Dobby's tiny and wrinkled hand on his hot forehead. "Harry Potter is so very sick."
"I know that Dobby. I don't care anymore." He heard Dobby leave the room and he sighed deeply. He buried his head deeper into the pillows and pulled the covers tighter around him. He had wanted to tell Dobby to call or send a message somehow to Draco. He wanted to know if Draco even cared that he was lying in bed ill and not caring anymore. He wanted to know if Draco cared at all.
When Draco had left, he had said that he just didn't know how he felt or what he wanted anymore. Harry knew it was partially because half the time they ventured out of the house they were swarmed by people wanting to talk to Harry. Harry had started to shut people out and somewhere along the way he had shut out Draco as well. Now more than ever, Harry was wishing that Draco was next to him to hold him and take care of him while he was sick. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought he heard Dobby snap his fingers to head out somewhere. He didn't know where Dobby would be going and he didn't really care.
Draco was sitting in his study next to the fireplace and staring into the fire. He sipped on his glass of brandy and furrowed his brow in thought. Next to him was the newest Daily Prophet. He wouldn't have known it was Harry on the front accept that he was wearing the robe that Draco had left there. It had a silver dragon crawling up the side which they had managed to capture as Harry had attempted to slip by the window. Draco knew that the Daily Prophet had a tendency to exaggerate. But he was starting to worry. Harry didn't look well. He wasn't moving as fast as he used to. It used to be that they didn't have pictures because he would get past the windows so fast that nobody could catch a picture of him. Now either he was too sick to try or didn't care anymore. Either way it worried Draco. Suddenly there was a loud pop and Draco about jumped out of his skin.
"Who the hell is it!" Draco shouted with his wand in hand.
"Please don't hurt Dobby!" cried out a familiar voice. Draco sighed and fell back in his chair.
"I'm not going to hurt you Dobby," said Draco putting his wand back in his robe pocket. "Come on over here so I can see you." Dobby tentatively stepped in front of Draco. Even though Dobby was looking frightened, Draco could see that Dobby looked tired and worried. "What's wrong Dobby?"
"Harry Potter doesn't want Dobby to be here." Dobby looked like he was about to throw his head into the chair Draco was sitting on but then stopped. "But Dobby cannot let Harry Potter die." Draco felt his heart skip a beat.
"What?" he whispered trying to hold back tears of guilt.
"Harry Potter is very very sick. Harry Potter stays in bed all day, coughs, moans, sleeps, and tries to eat... but never eats much. Harry Potter has been sick with the flu for a week now."
"Has he gone to the doctor?"
"Dobby suggested that Harry Potter go to the doctor, but Harry Potter said that he wouldn't go. Harry Potter said that he didn't care anymore. Please Draco Malfoy, don't tell Harry Potter that Dobby disobeyed him."
"Don't worry Dobby. You did the right thing to come to me. Harry will see that in time."
"Then Draco Malfoy will come back to take care of Harry Potter?" Dobby's little face lit up at the prospect of his master being helped.
"Yes Dobby, I'm coming back. Give me a moment to pack a few things and then I'll be right there. I want you to go ahead and go back to Harry's house. Make sure there is a fire in Harry's room and if there isn't, light one. Find Harry's cauldron and put it next to the fire. Does Harry have any herbs or anything like that?"
"Yes Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter keeps his herb cabinet filled. Harry Potter was making a lot of sleeping potion." Draco twitched involuntarily at the mention of this.
"All right, let me get my things together. You go ahead and get everything ready for me." Dobby nodded and then snapped his fingers and disappeared.
Draco quickly went to his bedroom and packed a few changes of clothes, his wand, his potions book, and one of his own potions that would bring Harry's fever down which he knew was the first thing he had to do. After pulling on his boots and pulling on his cloak, he gathered up his bag and his wand. He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pictured Harry's room. "I love you Harry," he whispered as he apparated.
When he opened his eyes he saw Dobby tending to the fire and the familiar black cauldron was sitting next to him. He turned to the bed and gasped at what he saw. Harry was pale and still wrapped in the blankets on the bed.
"Harry..." he whispered as he rushed to Harry's side. Putting a hand to Harry's forehead he could feel the high fever that was boiling inside the still body. "Harry, you need to wake up for a minute." He gently pulled Harry up to a sitting position. "C'mon Harry, you need to wake up. Accio potion." The potion he had packed in his bag flew to his hand and he popped off the cork with his thumb. Harry moaned and opened his eyes slightly.
"Draco?" he muttered sleepily.
"Yes Harry, it's me. I need you to drink this dear." Harry pushed away Draco's hand that held the vial. "C'mon Harry it will make you feel better. I promise." Draco poured the potion down Harry's throat and waited until he swallowed. "There's a good boy. Now just lie back down, and I'll cook up a good flu medicine for you. Go to sleep if you want to."
"Draco?" Harry muttered again as Draco laid him back down on the bed.
"Yes Harry, it's me. Don't worry about anything."
"Draco... I... I feel so terrible..." Draco gently stroked Harry's forehead and felt that the fever had all ready started to ease.
"I know. It's all right."
"I feel so terrible... but I want to tell you something..."
"What is it?"
"I'm really happy you're here." Draco smiled and kissed Harry gently on the forehead. He saw a tear escape Harry's eye and he gently brushed it away.
"Don't worry darling, I'm here to take care of you now."