I'm sick. And this randomly came to me while I was trying to get warm earlier...So yeah, own nothing, this is all from my head andddddd GO!
Ronald Weasley sat on the grass outside the Burrow. He picked at the grass and through it into the breeze, watching it float away. The sun had been up for hours, and he had just come outside to appreciate it. After the Battle of Hogwarts, he'd come to appreciate many things. For example, the air in his lungs, the feeling of a home and his mum squeezing the life out of him before she trudged upstairs for bed. He'd come to appreciate George, and the certain daily routines he went through everyday so it would hurt less knowing his other half wasn't there. He appreciated Ginny helping him get through rough patches, and always counting on her to be there. He really appreciated Harry.
His best mate, Harry. Harry Potter, the boy who lived. The Chosen one, the Boy Who Lied, and then the Boy Who Won. He learned to appreciate when Harry would take Ginny aside most days and talk to her. They'd go on a walk every evening and just talk, and snog. (But he pretended not to notice that part.) Often Harry and Ron would play a match of Quidditch, just for fun. They always stopped in the middle of it though to just fly around for old times sake. Ron made sure Harry knew how he felt for Hermione. He told him everyday, "Harry, I'm going to marry her. Whether she bloody well wants to or not." Harry would laugh and nod, always telling him to have a go at it. Ron also told Harry how relived he was that Ginny had him. She needed someone besides the family and Hermione to talk to. Plus, he couldn't wait for his best mate to be apart of his family.
"Hermione, though," Ron thought. "I don't just appreciate her. I love her."
With that, Ron stood from his sitting place and trudged back inside. Hermione was upstairs, he knew that. She told them earlier that day that she wasn't feeling too well and decided to nap it off.
Ron walked through the door to be stopped by his mother.
"Oh! Ron, dear! I need you to take this soup up to Hermione. I'm afraid she's ill." Molly Weasley handed him a tray containing a bowl of his mum's famous chicken noodle soup-a muggle tradition she'd recently picked up-, a cup of warm tea and a glass of cold water.
Ron nodded and started walking up the creaky stairs. He and Hermione had been sharing a room since they all arrived back at the Burrow. Though his mother didn't approve, Ron insisted she room with him so he could look after her. Ginny thought it adorable, and to no one's surprise, Harry stayed in her room. Though that was a fight between Molly and her no one wanted to miss. In the end, Ginny did what she wanted and made Harry sleep in her room.
Hermione had taken to cuddling into Ron's side before bed, and reading. He placed a lamp on her side of the bed, just for her, so she could read a bit before placing the book on the floor and laying her head on Ron's chest for the night.
He loved the moments when she would read and start to twirl a piece of hair around her finger. Usually he looked through a magazine, while running patterns up and down her arm. But in the rare moments, he would watch her, and take a finger and outline every inch of her. Hermione would stop reading, give him a bored yet amused look and cock an eyebrow. He would just smile and give her a quick, but lasting kiss.
Now, as he walked up to his- their- room, he passed Ginny's room. Harry and Ginny were inside talking about Holy Head Harpies and Quidditch teams.
He smiled, knowing Ginny was going to be playing for the Holy Head Harpies.
Finally, he made it to their room and lightly knocked on the door.
"Hermione? Love, may come in?"
There was a small, "Yes please.", so Ron kicked the door open carefully to see a weak, pitiful Hermione curled up in the sheets.
He smiled and gave a chuckle. He sat the tray on his desk and walked toward her.
"Don't look at me, Ron. I'm absolutely hideous." Hermione squeaked.
"Oh, Hermione! I've seen you like worse. What's got you sick?" he asked, uncovering her face.
She looked puffy to him. Her eyes weren't as bright and her nose was a little red. Her hair didn't surprise him to be quite frizzy. He touched her hair, smoothing it down until his hand reached her cheek, which was extremely warm.
"I can't drink or eat anything, my throat is swollen. Even if I wanted to eat anything I wouldn't be able to taste it, seeing as I can't smell a thing!" She sat up a bit to reveal she was wearing one of his Chudley Cannons t-shirts, and only that. "I've got a horrid headache, and I feel if I even move, I'll get dizzy and want to throw up."
Ron smiled, kissing her forehead. "Oh, Hermione. Lay back down, don't stress yourself any further!"
He lightly pushed her back and she sighed. "I feel completely helpless, Ronald! I can't even read!"
Ron laughed out loud at that. Of course, Hermione of all people would be worried that she couldn't read.
"Love, try and down some of this soup and I'll sit up here and take care of you."
Hermione looked at the bowl of soup and tried to sniff. She sighed and held her hands open, waiting for the bowl. Ron placed it in her hands and smiled.
"Try and eat some, I'll be right back."
Ron ran to the washroom and grabbed an unused wash cloth. He wetted it and ran back to the room. He walked over to Hermione and placed the cold cloth on her head.
"That feels wonderful, thank you, Ron." she said quietly.
He nodded and pulled a chair up beside their bed. "How's the soup going down?"
Hermione gave him a small nod. "Better than I expected it to. Your mum's an amazing cook."
"That much, I know. I want you to try and eat most of that, then I want you to drink this whole glass of water. We need to keep you hydrated." Ron said, grabbing the glass and handing it to her.
She smiled and took a sip. "My, my, Ron. I didn't know you were a certified doctor."
Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm not, know-it-all. I just know how to make you better. After having to nurse Ginny back to health when we were younger, I've made this somewhat of my hobby. Anybody gets sick in this house, gets treated by me. I've seen it all."
Hermione smiled, relaxing into her pillow. "Oh? Is that so?"
Ron nodded proudly. "Yup! I've seen broken bones, ripped skin,-George and Fred, I might add- vomiting, coughs, sniffles, you name it."
They were quiet for a moment, as Hermione ate the majority of her soup and drank the rest of her water.
"You'll make a wonderful father, Ron." she whispered.
He looked at her as a smile grew on his face. "Really? You think?"
She sat up, not before grabbing her head, and looked him in the eyes. "I do. Look at how you're taking care of me. And caring for Ginny when she's sick? I think that's the most attractive thing in the world."
Ron leaned down to kiss her, but was stopped by Hermione. "I'm sick, Ronald. I won't have you getting sick too."
He leaned back and sighed. "Then where do you expect me to sleep, Hermione? On the floor?"
She looked up at him bashfully. "You've slept in worse places."
"Oh, Hermione! Come on! That's my own bed!" He whined, rubbing his hands over his eyes.
Hermione smiled, then broke into a fit of coughing.
Ron stopped and laid her back down. He pulled the covers up around her and took the cloth from her head.
He grabbed the empty glass and ran to the washroom, once again. He soaked the cloth and filled the glass, before returning to her side.
Hermione finished her coughing fit and reached for the cloth. "Oh I feel like a pustule! Useless and disgusting!"
Ron smiled, and handed her the glass. She gladly gulped the majority down and settled back in to her side of the bed.
"I won't kick you out of your own bed, Ron. I just don't want you sick, too." she said quietly, closing her eyes.
"I know, always looking after everyone else, but yourself." Ron kissed her forehead and looked around his room.
She smiled softly and wiggled further into the sheets. "Don't leave, okay?"
"I promise I won't. I'll be right here, love." he replied, kicking his feet up near the end of the bed and leaning back in his chair.
"Mmm, I love you, Ronald. I appreciate this, so much."
A smile broke out on his face before he could stop it, and dragged a blanket up around himself. "I love you too, 'Mione."
It felt nice to be appreciated.
There it is. Hope it was enjoyed by most. I'll update my other story, Red Tulip, soon...I just gotta get back in the funk of it...so yeah...bye