What you get (Harry Potter - Harry)

[The Kneezle]

Hello folks. It's midterms, so naturally I'm writing a sneezefic instead of my paper. Totally didn't plan on this, but here's a nice lite one-shot for you anyway. More Harry to add to the forum.

So his is old in first-person, which I almost never write, but it just kind of happened. Hope it's not distracting or anything. I wrote it with the intention that it was Remus looking after Harry in an AU world here Remus got custody of him when he was little, but the 'I' could easily be Sirius or whoever else you like being Harry's guardian. I just really like the Remus angle. Could take place in pretty much any year, or even after Harry's left school if you want to imagine he's a young professor or something. I imagine he's about fourth-sixth year, though.

Alrighty, here you go.

The bang of the back door almost gives me a heart attack. I start in my chair, spilling my tea all over my hand, and dropped my freshly-arrived Defensive Monthly. My wand already drawn, I swing around the corner into the kitchen and stop short. Harry, pink-faced and dusted in quickly melting snow, is peeling off his layers on the mat.

“For Merlin’s sake,” I exclaim, a little irritated because I thought he was upstairs, thus my near-panic-attack, but mostly exasperated because upstairs was where I told him to be. “And what exactly have you been up to?” I ask, stuffing my wand away and putting out a hand to balance him as he attempts to pull his boots off still standing.

“Flying,” he explains breathlessly, and indeed, I see his snow-dusted broom has rolled under the table.

I tut disapprovingly, peeling off his now-soaked knitted hat. His bangs stick to his forehead from the melted snow. “I thought I sent you upstairs two hours ago,” I sigh, now helping him tug off his jacket. He’s shivering like mad and has probably sniffed four times in the past minute.

“I got bored,” he says with a sheepish grin, rubbing a gloved hand under his bright pink nose. “I was reading about some old Quidditch move and my broom was just lying there. No mortal could resist, I swear.”

I roll my eyes. Suddenly he snaps forward with a sharp “Huhxch!” bringing up a hand to cover his mouth.

“That,” I say pointed, guiding him into a chair at the table, “is precisely why you were to be upstairs.”

He’s rubbing vigorously at his nose, sniffling more urgently, and blinking. “HuhxCH!” he bobs forward again, a little more forcefully than before, and lets out a sigh of relief, letting his hand drop.

“Oh, come on, it’s just a sniffle,” he complains, and to his credit, he doesn’t even sound congested.

“Yes, well, ‘just a sniffle’ rarely stays as ‘just a sniffle’, particularly when you get yourself soaking wet.” I pull my wand out again and wave it over his sodden jumper, jeans, and socks. “How did you even manage that?” I ask, plucking at the jumper in some amazement as it steams.

“Might have fallen a few times,” he shrugs.

I sigh again and run a hand through his still-damp hair. My drying spells are not always the most effective, but at least he isn’t accumulating a puddle anymore. He’s still shivering, though.

“I ought to have let you drip,” I say in mock regret, summoning a blanket from the sitting room. “Maybe then you’d learn better than to roll about in the snow when you’re catching cold.

“But isn’t that the point of magic?” he asks, making a grab for the blanket I’m holding out of his reach.

“What, to not have common sense?”

“No, to not have to play by all the rules.” He smirks as I roll my eyes again and drop the blanket over his head.

“But you still have to play by some of the rules.”

…

“Hiyishugh!”

I cringe inwardly at the quiet harshness of it, and Harry, lower part of his face hidden behind a crumpled handkerchief, raises bloodshot eyes to me in a forlorn gaze.

“Bless you,” I offer.

He’s huddled under two blankets in the armchair across from me, unable to lie down for the pressure in his sinuses, but obviously exhausted. He blows wetly into the handkerchief until he must be getting light-headed, and even then sniffles thickly.

“Are you sure we havend’t god adny Pepper-Up?” he asks thickly, his voice hoarse and almost miserable enough to be a whine.

“Should we empty the cabinets for a fourth time?” I ask.

“uckshoo!”

“Bless you.”

“Cadn’t we buy adny?”

“Apothecary’s closed on Sundays,” I say, turning a page in my newspaper.

He lets out a congested groan and sags back in his chair. I glance at him over my paper. This cold is really doing a number on him; he looks absolutely miserable. Yesterday, he woke up a bit stuffy, today he’s worn-out, shivery, completely congested, and –

“Ish-ish-ishugh!”

Sneezing his head off.

“Bless you,” I say dutifully, but he only lets out small whimper, rubbing his nose furiously.

He draws in a deep breath and lets it out shakily, then a couple unsteady, shallow gasps, head rearing back and face twisted comically. “Hih-KESH-uhgh! Ishoo! Ishoo! Hih-ESH!”

His shoulders drop about three inches once it’s over. The blankets of fallen from his shoulders. He groans softly, rubbing his forehead with one hand while the other pinches his nostrils. “Hih-nxt!” His eyes are streaming when he finally lifts his face.

“Bless you,” I say yet again. He makes a face at me.

I’ve had my fun, so I put aside my paper and learn forward, beckoning him to do the same so I can feel his forehead. “How do you feel, now?”

“Gross,” he snuffles, trying to stem his streaming nose.

“I’m gonna need more descriptors,” I prompt. He’s only barely got a fever and hasn’t developed more than a dry cough yet, so I’m not overly worried just now. This was going around the castle for a month before break, a nasty head cold to be sure, but not much worse than that. Just Harry’s luck that he happened to come home for the holidays with it.

“Mby throat hurts,” he offers dully.

“Worse than yesterday?”

He swallows and winces. “Yeah.”

“Head?”

“Poundi’g.”

I move my hand to massage his temples.

“Chest?”

He shrugs.

“Stomach?”

“Finde.”

“Do want something for tea?” I ask, capitalizing on the opportunity to pour some fluids into him.

He swallows and winces again, then shakes his head. His breath catches.

“Oh ndo, ndot againd,” he pleads, raising the much-abused handkerchief expectantly. “Eh-huh – geh – Igtchyew! Huh-kish!”

“Only two this time,” I say brightly, getting up to make him tea anyway.

“Aish!” he snaps forward again, almost rocking out of the chair. “They’re djust taki’g… taki’ihg… taki’g their – huh-ish! their timbe,” he assures me resignedly.

And sure enough I hear him muffle harsh “Ishoo!”’s at fairly regular thirty-second intervals the whole time I’m making tea. I add a spoonful of honey to his mug for his throat and a liberal sprinkle of peppermint because I know it will make him sneeze. It doesn’t sound like he needs much help with that right now, but it will help to clear his congestion and hopefully make his head feel better. I could kick myself for not thinking to stock up on medicinal potions before bringing him home for Christmas. I knew a bug was going around. And – tis the flue and cold season – all the appothocaries would no doubt be short on everything. I’ll run to Diagon Alley first thing tomorrow morning, but I’m almost certain it will take a week to fill the order, and hopefully by then he’ll be on the mend.

“Here we are,” I say, settling back into my chair and leaning forward to put his mug on the side table between us, close enough for him to reach without too much effort. He stares listlessly at the steaming mug, grimacing at another thick swallow. “It’ll make you feel better,” I prompt, just as I always had to do when he was small. “I put honey in,” I add enticingly.

He rolls his head to fix drooping eyes on me dubiously. I sit forward and put the mug in his freezing fingers. “Drink,” I order.

He dallies a little longer, blowing on the surface, breathing in the steam, sniffling a little as it makes his nose run. But finally he takes a small sip and almost at once recoils.

“You put peppermint in this,” he accuses in a voice of the utmost disappointment in me. “You know peppermint makes me – makes me –” I lunge forward to take the mug just before he jerks forward with a body-rocking volley of “Esh-esh-esh-esh!”

It’s his allergic sneeze, and for a moment I worry it won’t do anything but make him more miserable. But then he sucks in a great breath and lets loose two wet “Ishgh!”s, the spray from which escapes his hands and makes it all the way over to me. Thank Merlin I’m good at quarantine spells at least.

He rubs his nose which is no doubt still stinking from the peppermint and looks up at me as if I’ve betrayed his greatest trust.

“Tough love, mate,” I say, smirking. “Drink that down and you’re headache should ease up. Then maybe you can get some sleep.” He was up most of last night thanks to the congestion.

I turn on the wireless and find a Quidditch match to ease the unpleasant tea-choking-down, although I don’t think he hears much of the broadcast for the rapidfire sneezing he’s doing after every swallow.

“You’re decongestant is flawed,” he tells me, although to my credit, he isn’t nearly as stuffed up as he’s been all day. His face crumples, though, and he buries at least half a dozen sharp “Ish”’s in his palm. Then there are a couple wetter sneezes, but they aren’t nearly as harsh as they’ve been.

“How’s the headache?” I ask, managing very maturely not to smirk.

He scowls, which is how I know it’s getting better.

“Go on, there’s only one swallow left,” I urge, peering into his mug.

“I’ve had most of it,” he whines, and this how I know he’s utterly exhausted. Even when he’s sick, Harry rarely ever whines. Even – or perhaps especially – when he was little.

I scoot over to sit on the arm of his chair, rubbing soft circles between his shoulder blades. “Drink it down fast, for luck.”

He heaves a sigh and raises the mug to his lips, drains it, instantly pulling a face. Without even a preparatory breath, he shoots forward, pulling the blanket up over his face as he sneezes. “Esh-esh-esh-esh-esh-esh-esh!... Esh-esh-esh-esh! Eshigh! Eshigh! Eh-ukshoo!”

“God bless you,” I say comfortingly once he’s finally done, kneeling next to him to message the back of his head. He’s slumped forward with a quiet moan.

He sits up and I pass him a fresh handkerchief. He blows his nose until there’s nothing left and turns watery eyes to me. “Can I lay down, now?”

I help him move his tangled coat of blankets over to the sofa, put a couple pillows against the armrest to keep him propped up, and cast a warming spell on the whole arrangement to ease the shivering. His eyes close and he lets out a couple soft breaths before his breathing evens out. I point my wand at the wireless and it fizzles off.

“No, leave it on,” he says although his words are thick with drowsiness. I smile, and point my wand again, keeping the volume low. Then I make to retreat quietly to the kitchen, but his fingers close around my sleeve. When I look down, his eyes are cracked open.

“Will you stay?” he asks in a small voice.

Obediently, I drop to the floor, leaning sideways against the couch cushions with an arm over him, gently rubbing his back. It brings me back to countless nights spent just like this after bad dreams or in the throes of fevers, that time he managed to shatter his elbow.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you yesterday,” he says remorsefully.

I smile, amused, but trying not to show it lest it hurt his feelings. “I know. It’s okay. It’s my job to tell you what you ought to do, and it’s your job to disregard almost all of it.”

He rubs at his painfully red nose with his sleeve and sniffs. “Still shoulda listened.”

“Some things you have to learn on your own,” I assure him. “Part of growing up.”

“Uckshsh!” He can’t get an arm free enough of the blanket to cover, but it’s something I got over a long time ago. You risk getting a little messy if you stay close enough to comfort them.

“Bless you,” I say for the umpteenth time. I don’t think he hears me, though. He’s already half-asleep.

[SneezyHolmes]

THIS. <3 Please let there be a part 2 where Remus gets sick~

[silentdreamer789]

So awesome

[Raven Insight]

I adore sneezy Harry's, oh my gosh.<3

[Dusty15]

This is adorable! I'm not a massive Harry fan but I'm such a huge sucker for Remus and I enjoyed this very much

[luckyleprechaun]

PART 2 PLEASE. AN AMAZING FIC.

[Orb]

PART 2 PLEASE. AN AMAZING FIC.

Too bad it's a one shot.......... *Nudge nudge wink wink*

[Seniorstatus14]

OH MY GOSH THIS WAS AMAZING!!!! Please let there be a part 2! It's to good to just be a one shot!