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Ron, his hair still damp from his shower, was absent-mindedly fastening the buttons of his Auror uniform.
His eyes never left the little bundle of blankets on the left side of their bed.
The aforementioned mound hadn’t moved, despite the late hour…
He approached, frowning.
“’Mione?”
A faint breath answered him, and he crouched down to get a better look at her.
Hermione was flushed, her forehead covered in sweat…
He placed his hand against it, and she sighed in relief at the welcome coolness.
“Blimey, ‘Mione, you’re burning up!”
“Mmm…”
He tried to pull the blanket away from her, but she only curled herself up tighter.
“No… I’m cold…” she whimpered.
“You’re supposed to bring your temperature down, ’Mione, not make it go up!”
“Nooo…” she breathed, her voice muffled.
She opened her chocolate-brown eyes and gave him a faint smile when she saw how worried he was.
Her gaze travelled slowly from his feet to his head.
She loved seeing him in his Auror uniform…
“You… you look gorgeous… and you’re aaall mine,” she added innocently.
Ron flushed furiously, though he couldn’t help being amused.
All those years together hadn’t changed a thing… she still had a real hold over him…
“No need to raise my temperature as well, ’Mione… you’re not in any state to deal with the consequences…”
She laughed from beneath the blankets before a coughing fit shook her.
At once, he waved his wand, levitating a carafe of water and a glass.
Gently, he helped her sit up slightly.
Hermione took a few small sips and sighed, her eyelids heavy.
“Ron… you’ve got a meeting…”
Ron glanced at the clock and hesitated.
“I can be back in an hour. Thirty minutes, if I get Harry to cover for me! I just have to show my face…”
“Ron…”
Another cough shook her, and he suddenly felt so helpless…
He was perfectly capable of facing dangerous criminals without batting an eye.
But seeing his beloved at the mercy of a nasty virus… when faced with that, he was completely lost…
“Go…” she smiled at him.
He nodded. He helped her lie back down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I’ll be back. Sleep.”
Hermione had already closed her eyes and was drifting off…
Ron replaced the blanket with a lighter sheet nonetheless, then hurried into the living room.
Ignoring his growling stomach, he took a pinch of Floo powder from the little velvet pouch beside their fireplace.
With a hurried gesture, he threw it into the hearth.
“The Ministry !”
***
Ron stepped out of the office of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Hermione’s colleagues hadn’t seemed surprised by her absence.
They told the redhead that, for the past three days, the stubborn brunette had been coming to work despite their advice to go home and rest…
Having just returned from a mission that had lasted several days, he hadn’t been there to notice…
And yet, the tired look on her face the day before should have tipped him off…
Ron returned to the Auror Office, where the teams were reorganising following the announcement that he would be absent for the day.
“Hey, Weasley, sneaking off?” one of his colleagues called after him with a grin.
“I heard Granger’s off as well… Come on, admit it. Are you taking the opportunity for a romantic getaway? I’m jealous…” another chimed in with an envious sigh.
Ron smiled.
“I wish. But Hermione’s ill… actually, do any of you know how to cure a cold?”
A stunned silence answered him as they all tried to think seriously.
They were used to combat injuries and Dark wizard poisons… but a cold…!?
“My mum used to give me Pepperup Potion when I was younger… but it made smoke come out of my ears… and when my dad brewed it and got the dosage wrong, it came out of my nose!”
Ron grimaced.
“Mm… I’ll keep that one in reserve, thanks…”
“What about a Murlap pod tea?” one of them suggested.
“Isn’t that the one that temporarily gives you the voice of a bullfrog?” another pointed out.
Ron shook his head.
“I’ll keep looking…”
“Otherwise, there’s always Bubotuber pus powder inhalation! The steam clears your sinuses instantly.”
Ron looked relieved.
“That actually sounds pretty good!”
“Well… it does make purple hairs grow on the tip of your nose for twenty-four hours, but it’s harmless!”
Ron took a step back, holding in a despairing sigh.
Why, by the thousand warts on Merlin’s grandmother, were magical remedies always more terrifying than the illnesses they were supposed to cure!?
Harry placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
“Wouldn’t it be better to ask your mum?”
Ron’s shoulders slumped.
“She left yesterday with Dad to visit Bill in France…”
Harry thought for a moment.
“Ah… want me to ask Ginny?”
Ron shook his head.
“No, thanks. Just cover for me, okay? I’ll owe you one!”
“I won’t forget it!”
***
Ron stepped out of the fireplace in the flat he shared with Hermione, dusting off his cloak.
He glanced at the clock.
It had still taken him around forty minutes… and he still had no clear idea what to do to make her feel better…
He headed to their bedroom to check on her.
She was fast asleep…
He took off his uniform, trying to think.
Hermione was always prepared. They had to have some medicine somewhere…
He knelt beside her.
“’Mione…” he whispered softly.
She didn’t answer.
“My dearest witch…”
Hermione slowly opened one tired eye. He smiled, stroking her cheek.
“Where do we keep the potions?”
She closed her eyes again.
“…Bathroom…”
“In the cabinet?”
But she had already curled up again, drifting back to sleep…
He got to his feet and headed into their bathroom.
He checked the small cabinet where they kept the towels and toiletries.
There weren’t many places where they could have stored them, after all…
His eyes drifted towards the mirror.
“But… there’s not enough room in there…”
He opened it and sighed.
Sure enough, there really wasn’t much space…
Inside, already taking up a good part of the shelf, were two vials of headache potion, an ointment for burns, a few bandages and… absolutely nothing for a fever…
He closed the door and took a deep breath.
He had to treat this like a mission: assess his surroundings, evaluate his resources, and only then decide on the best course of action.
He looked around.
Their flat was in a Muggle neighbourhood, but they had a fireplace that connected them to the wizarding world.
Hermione had chosen a neighbourhood fairly close to where her parents lived. And one with easy access to the tram!
As a matter of fact, that was precisely why they had been able to get the flat at such a good price…
The noise of the tram had put more than a few people off, but not them…
After all, they knew how to use Silencing Charms!
He looked out of the window.
Several Muggle shops around their flat had made him nervous at first…
These days, he had grown used to them and even greeted the shopkeepers when he went for walks with Hermione. He still didn’t dare go there without her, though…
“The pharmy-whatsit!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.
He remembered only too well that his young witch had explained that it was where Muggles went when they needed something to make them feel better!
He went back to their bedroom and kissed the tousled hair of his brunette.
“I’ll be back, ’Mione. I’m going to make you feel better!” he promised confidently.
In response, she let out a soft little snore.
..............
Ron walked down the street, his heart pounding, his throat dry, his eyes scanning everything around him…
He was on a mission.
With his wand hidden in the inside pocket of his jacket, he felt completely exposed.
Someone called out to him cheerfully:
“Hello, Ron… that’s right, isn’t it?”
He immediately turned towards the voice.
The shopkeeper was rearranging his vegetables on the displays facing the pavement.
Ron tensed as he stepped a little closer.
“Hello. Yes, that’s my name…”
The man looked behind him.
“Hermione isn’t with you?”
At the mention of his beloved, he straightened up. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass her…
“She’s ill… I’m going to the…” Nervous, the name of the place completely slipped his mind.
“Oh, the pharmacy!?” the shopkeeper supplied, following the gesture Ron was making.
“Yes! That! Exactly!”
“What’s wrong with Hermione?” a voice beside Ron asked.
He recognised the shopkeeper’s wife.
“She’s ill…” her husband answered for him.
“Oh, what’s wrong with the poor thing?”
Seeing how concerned she was for his sweetheart, Ron felt a little more at ease.
“She’s got a nasty cold and quite a fever…”
The woman clapped her hands.
“She needs to drink plenty of water! A thyme or mint tea would be good too—the fever will dry her out!” she advised.
Ron nodded, making a mental note.
“Honey and lemon will soothe her throat if she’s coughing a lot…” her husband added thoughtfully.
“And steam inhalation! That’ll help with a blocked nose…”
Ron tried to repeat all the recommendations in his head.
“And… do any of those have… mm… side effects?”
The couple exchanged a look before breaking into amused laughter.
“Nothing to worry about! Just one very relieved young woman! But don’t forget the medicine…”
Ron smiled again.
“Thank you so much!”
After offering them a sincere thank you, he continued on his way, feeling a little more confident…
By the time he reached the small building with the glowing green cross, however, his confidence had taken quite a hit…
While waiting in line at the pharmacy, he saw a man arrive with a piece of paper in his hand.
He immediately recognised the neighbourhood bookseller.
He wondered anxiously whether he, too, needed something in particular…
“Next, please.”
Ron stepped up to the small counter. Suddenly, he felt eleven years old again, summoned before McGonagall…
“Hello. I’d like some medicine for… a fever and a cough, please.”
“Oh, yes, it’s flu season…”
Relieved that the pharmacist hadn’t asked him for any paperwork, he relaxed almost imperceptibly.
“Do you have a thermometer at home? Any saline solution?”
He immediately tensed up again.
“A thermo… a sal… what?” he choked out, completely lost.
The young woman tilted her head, an amused smile on her lips.
“Is this your first time handling this on your own?”
“Is it that obvious?”
She laughed softly and picked up a small object, holding it up for him to see.
“You put it in her mouth. If the little screen reads above 38.5°C, give her one whole tablet, all right?”
“All right…”
She handed him a small box. He examined it.
“Is this the tablet? What is it?”
“Paracetamol.”
“Para… Brilliant. Why did I even ask…” he sighed.
The pharmacist smiled at him fondly.
“As long as the fever hasn’t gone down, give her one tablet every four hours.”
“And… what if the fever still doesn’t go down?”
The young woman smiled at his worried expression.
“I’m sure she’ll recover with plenty of rest and lots of fluids.”
The young wizard nodded.
He handed the pharmacist one of the Muggle banknotes Hermione always kept by the entrance.
The pharmacist gave him his change, which he slipped into his pocket without even looking at it or counting it, thanking her.
When he turned around, he noticed that the queue behind him had grown and that several familiar faces were watching him attentively.
“Is Hermione ill?” the bookseller asked as Ron passed him.
“Yeah… she… she’s got a fever…”
It was the man’s turn. He gestured for Ron to wait.
He was one of the people Ron had spoken to a little more often.
The bookshop was where Hermione loved to go to buy novels, books, and send letters the Muggle way…
An elderly woman, who was also waiting in the queue, beckoned him over.
He recognised her as their neighbour from the ground floor.
“My boy! A good broth perks anyone up!”
Ron stepped a little closer.
“A broth made of what?”
The bookseller had just finished his purchase and was making his way over to Ron, interrupting their conversation.
“Steam inhalation and herbal tea, my boy! That’s what she needs!”
“A broth,” the old woman repeated, sounding slightly offended.
Ron never quite understood how it had happened…
But before long, he found himself outside the pharmacy, surrounded by Muggles, all offering their own advice and recommendations.
The pharmacist had eventually given him a piece of paper and a pen so he could write everything down…
With this strange little tool Muggles used for writing, he hurriedly scribbled down every piece of advice:
“Remember: no baths until her fever has gone down. But you can cool her down with a flannel or a quick shower if she’s feeling strong enough…”
“And don’t forget: carrots, onions, leeks and celery in the broth. No more than ten minutes of cooking!”
“And chicken! She needs some protein too, after all…”
“Garlic and ginger! That stuff works wonders!”
“Mint or thyme tea—I swear by it!”
Ron looked up, slightly out of breath.
“Where can I find all that?”
The shopkeeper was already making his way over to the group with a full bag.
“The vegetables are on me!”
Ron smiled, holding out a banknote to him.
“Thank you!”
“I know a garden centre not too far from here!” exclaimed a teenager who had joined the little improvised rescue party.
“Alex, go on, take him there!” several voices immediately chimed in from all around.
He thanked everyone with a broad smile and followed the boy, who was already striding ahead and gesturing for him to come along.
They walked briskly, side by side.
“Your girlfriend’s called Hermione, right?”
A silly smile spread across Ron’s face.
“That’s right.”
“Is she pretty?”
Ron glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.
“Prettier than anyone. Yeah... Pretty, beautiful, clever, stubborn… she’s… perfect.”
The boy pulled a face and stuck his tongue out.
“You say that… Is she threatening you right now?”
Ron burst out laughing.
“Sometimes…”
They both laughed, sharing a conspiratorial grin.
They arrived in front of a small shop with a purple façade and a floral sign.
“Hello, Mrs Bertie!” the young man called as he stepped inside.
Ron followed him in a little more cautiously.
Everything looked so neat, beautiful and spotless…
He smiled to himself. At least, with Muggles, he wasn’t in danger of getting one of his fingers bitten off…
A plump woman appeared between two rows of plants.
“Alex?”
The boy pointed at Ron.
“This is Ron. He’s on a rescue mission to save his faire maiden!”
Ron felt himself blush under their amused gazes.
“What’s wrong with the young lady?”
“The flu…”
“But you’d think Ron was fighting a dragon!” the boy teased good-naturedly.
The woman affectionately patted his cheeks.
“Aaaah, Alex, I want to see you the day you fall in love! You’ll be running around everywhere too!”
Mrs Bertie handed him two small pots, their leaves giving off delicate scents.
“This one is thyme, and this one’s mint. Snip off a few sprigs, boil some water and put them in, then put the lid on! Leave it to steep for eight to ten minutes, then take the leaves out. With a spoonful of honey and a bit of lemon, your princess will be back on her feet, you’ll see!”
Ron nodded solemnly.
“Thyme. Mint. Eight to ten minutes. Lid. Honey and lemon.”
Alex burst out laughing.
“You remember things like that?”
“Absolutely.”
He finished paying and took another sniff of the two little pots.
“Is it dangerous?”
Alex snickered beside him.
“They make boils grow…”
“Bloody—no, please!” Ron exclaimed in horror.
The teenager burst out laughing as Mrs Bertie rolled her eyes.
“He’s talking nonsense. These plants are often used in cooking, and you can even chew them…”
To show him, she picked a mint leaf and chewed it with a smile.
Ron let out a relieved breath.
Finally, remedies that weren’t likely to make purple hairs grow on Hermione…
***
Hermione slowly opened her eyes at the coolness against the back of her neck.
She felt herself being gently propped up as another wave of coolness brushed against her cheek.
“Ron…?”
She turned her head and found her redhead’s focused gaze.
He had settled himself behind her, keeping her propped up against him.
He pulled off her top and chuckled softly when she let out a little cry and covered herself.
He ran the flannel over her back before drying her with a towel.
His eyes sparkling with mischief, he gently moved her hands aside, perhaps lingering a little too long over certain areas…
When she gave his hand a light smack, he finally helped her into a fresh pair of pyjamas.
Hermione sniffed the air.
“Wh…?”
Proud as a Hippogriff, Ron got to his feet.
“I’ll be right back!”
Still lost in a haze, Hermione watched him rush out of the room.
On her bedside table, a glass with a tablet and a thermometer were waiting for her.
“But…”
Her hand still a little unsteady, she took the glass and the tablet, looking puzzled.
It was Muggle…
She heard him come back:
“Every four hours, the pharmacist said…”
She frowned.
“When…?”
Ron set the tray with the herbal tea down on the bed and helped her swallow the medicine.
He wiped her lips and rested his forehead against hers.
“You still need to rest… but drink this. It’s thyme tea, with honey and lemon…”
Bewildered, she let him help her drink in small sips, never taking her eyes off him.
Hermione placed her hand, still far too warm, against his cheek.
“What… have you done?”
He smiled.
“You’ll be proud of me!”
She did try to ask more questions, but she was still too groggy…
Stroking her hair, he soon managed to lull her back to sleep, and she slipped into a much more peaceful slumber…
...............
Several hours later, when she opened her eyes for the second time, the haze surrounding her had lifted.
She climbed out of bed a little clumsily and slipped into the dressing gown Ron had left beside her.
Moving slowly, she made her way towards the kitchen, where a delicious smell was drifting from.
Her eyes caught sight of two little pots of herbs by the window and several half-chopped vegetables.
One large saucepan was still warm, while a smaller one had already gone cold…
At the dining table, Ron was asleep in his chair, his head resting on his folded arms.
She quietly approached the saucepan, lifted the lid and smiled.
“…’Mione?”
She smiled at him, and he came over, wrapping his arms around her with a satisfied little grunt.
“Ah, you look a bit better!”
The young woman snuggled against him.
“…Ron, what is all this?”
He scooped her up, making her laugh softly, and set her down on the chair he had occupied only moments before.
“Broth! Full of vegetables and protein…”
She shook her head with a smile as he placed a still-steaming bowl in front of her.
“Drink.”
His stomach growled, and she frowned with concern.
“Ron… I bet you haven’t eaten anything all day…”
“Hey, I’m the one who’s supposed to be worrying, not you.”
Nevertheless, he served himself a bowl as well and came to sit across from her.
They ate in silence, exchanging a few glances and smiles.
“Since when… do we have plants?”
Ron pointed to the two little pots.
“Next time, we’ll be ready! I’ll make sure they don’t die on us!”
Once they had both regained some strength with the broth, Ron carried her back to bed.
“You know I can walk…”
“Just let me take care of you…”
Hermione laughed softly, resting her head against his shoulder.
He laid her down on the bed, then climbed in beside her and pulled the covers over them with a satisfied sigh.
“Ron…”
“Mm?”
“Thank you… You’ve been adorable…”
A tired smile spread across his face.
“It’s only natural. If I got sick, you’d take care of me too, wouldn’t you?”
She tenderly kissed his chin.
“You know I would…”
He held her a little tighter against him.
“Mm… it’s actually rather tempting to get spoiled by you…”
She kissed his nose, and he lifted himself slightly.
“But promise me you’ll stick to Muggle medicine, all right ?”
She laughed softly at his ridiculously serious expression. Then she snuggled against him again, her cheek resting against his chest.
“Promise…”
***
On their next walk, when Ron was able to greet everyone in the neighbourhood by name… Hermione couldn’t help but think how lucky she was to have such a resourceful knight…