Ron slowly opened his eyes at the light shining onto his face from outside the window. He squinted, and pulled the covers over himself. His head pounded painfully, and he could also feel his throat beginning to hurt. He coughed meekly, and groaned. He didn't feel very well. No, wait — he felt terrible.

Thankfully it was a Saturday, so all the students weren't to do classes. However, Ron felt sicker than a gnome that had been tossed and swung by Fred. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse with Sirius Black on the loose, who was technically after his best friend.

            "Achoo." He sneezed gently, and to his discomfort, his nose immediately stuffed up. He sniffled, and twisted in bed, wishing his head would stop hurting. It was probably a mild cold, whatever he had caught. Perhaps it was because his friends and he had played in the snow for too long after dinner yesterday.

A soft rustling of sheets at his right signaled Ron that Harry was up. "Mm? Ron, you awake?"

            "I feel like crap." He replied, burying his head into his pillow. "Must be a bug."

            "Hold on." He heard Harry say, and then springs of a matress creaking. His friend, still half in slumber, slumped over and plopped down next to Ron. He placed a hand over Ron's forehead, which the redhead didn't fight against.

            "Merlin, Ron. You're burning." Harry said as he pulled his hand back, a look of concern immediately crossing his face, the slumber beginning to wash away.

            "Feels like it." Ron answered back. He sneezed again, this time to the other side if the bed of where Harry was sitting. "Ugh, my nose feels all stuffy." He yanked at a box of tissues that sat next to his bed on the lantern stand, and blowed his nose. Suddenly, Harry stood up with a jerk.

            "Oh, god! I forgot! Professor Lupin said he wanted me in his office at nine!" He exclaimed as he hastily began to change. "I'd take care of you if I could, mate," Harry said, pulling a sweater over his head. "... but I guess I can't. Sorry — I'll return as soon as possible."

            "Take your time, Harry. It's not like I'm dying or anything." Ron replied as he settled back into bed. His head ached with a sharp pain for a second, so he had to squeeze his eyes shut. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, but he was afraid that the pain would come back. Ron opened them up slowly to find Harry standing at the doorway, wand clenched tightly between his fingers. He gave his friend a weak smile. "Go — I'll be fine."

            "... Alright. Take it easy, okay?" Harry reassured him before dashing out of the dormitory and down to the common room. His footsteps slowly faded away, and Ron released his forced grin and plopped his head back onto the pillow. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

...

            "Ron? Roooooooonnnnn..."

            Somebody seemed to be calling his name from the end of a very long tunnel, and he was standing at the other side of it, listening. His head throbbed behind his eyes, and he scrunched up to stop whoever it was from continously saying his name.

            "Roooooooonnnnn..."

            "Shut it."

            "Get up, Ron."

            "I said shut it!"

            "Rooooooooooooonnnnn..."

            "I said, shut your effing --"

            "Ronald Weasley!"

            As the person called out his full name, everything rushed back into existence, and he snapped his eyes open to see a pair of brown pupils dangling above him.

            "Agh!" He cried out as he began to sit up in haste, only to smash his forehead into whoever was above him. They also gave a yelp as they toppled onto the floor. Ron clasped his hands to his now more-throbbing head to calm the pain, and then he saw who he had collided into.

Hermione sat on the carpeted floor, head in her hands, face scrunched up in pain. She was dressed in a bright, red sweater, a grey skirt, and knee socks, her hair tied into a neat ponytail at the back of her head. After moments passed, they recovered from the collision — Ron was the first to do so.

            "Hermione, what in the name of Merlin are you doing in the boys' dormitory?" He rasped as he rubbed his head painfully — the throb still remained. Hermione carefully dropped one hand from her head.

            "I met Harry on the way back up to the common room — he told me you seemed sick." She looked at him right in the eyes, blue meeting brown. "And you sure do look ill."

            "Bloody hell." Ron muttered as he felt his throat crack dry. He began coughing, and reached for his muggle canteen with his wand. "Aguamenti." He casted quietly, and drank the water that filled up inside of the container. There was a short silence as he drank it all up, and Hermione took that moment to sit on his bed. After Ron was done, Hermione reached over to tousle Ron's hair. As he was about shake her hand off, she seemed to realize and spoke before he could even move.

            "I like it better this way." She said. "Makes you look... cuter." Her cheeks flushed with a bit of red as she looked away sheepishly at the wall, avoiding Ron's eyes. Ron himself found his cheek burning slightly. However, Hermione recovered quick and placed a hand on his forehead before recoiling.

            "That's very warm, Ron. We should go to Madam Pomfrey —" But before she could grab his hand to take him out of bed, Ron grabbed her wrist and entwined it with his fingers. He was blushing furiously.

            "No, wait. Uh, I want to stay for a few more hours." He said, and twisted his lips into a straight line. Hermione grinned shyly and nodded.

            "Alright. I'll go and let you get some more rest, and then you can —"

            "Stay here." Ron interrupted, pulling her down. "Having you here..." His face flushed a brilliant red, which perfectly matched the color of his ears and hair. "... um, makes me more comfortable." When Hermione stayed wordless, he began to fiddle nervously with his thumbs. "I insist."

            "... Well, if you insist." She finally replied, and placed a hand cold hand gently on Ron's. He shivered at the touch.

            "Why are your hands freezing?" Ron muttered as he took Hermione's hand into his own and clenched it between his fingers.

            "My hands are always cold." She replied with a twitch of a smile. Ron felt her hand tighten around his, and he could feel its temperature. Subconciously, he pulled her hand towards his mouth and began blow hot air on it, carefully wrapping his warm hands around her's, not seeming to notice Hermione blush hard.

            "This'll make them better." Ron said as he continued to concentrate on warming her hands. Hermione broke into a small grin as she leaned into Ron, taking him into surprise. Before he could question her, she spoke first.

            "I'm glad I have somebody to warm me up." Then she leaned in closer to wrap her arms around his waist. Ron awkwardly took an arm around her shoulder.

            "What if you catch my cold?"

            "Oh, I'll manage."