Harry’s watch beeped, rousing him from his dreamless sleep. He quickly stopped the alarm, lest it wake Ron too. The morning was unusually cold for August outside his soft blankets. He crawled down his bed and grasped the snack box.
Once back at his pillow and under the warm blankets, Harry opened the box. There, neatly organized were rows of what looked like regular candy. The box seemed crammed full of the various assortment of treats.
Harry grabbed a fever fudge, but realized something. Mrs. Weasley knew the twins had given this to him. She would surely suspect and check the box for any missing candies. He quickly closed the box and sat it on his nightstand.
Slightly frustrated, Harry lifted his pillow and put his head under it. His head was soon warm and he got an idea. He lifted the pillow and saw the lamp on his nightstand. He buried his head again, smiling brightly and threw the blankets over the pillow too. He became very hot and uncomfortable, but dared not move until Mrs. Weasley came.
When Harry heard the door open and then saw the feint glow of the lights coming on he was already very hot. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Mrs. Weasley pulled the blanket and pillow off his face, a bemused smirk on her face. “Harry, it’s time to get up.”
Harry moaned loudly, pretending to have just gotten up. “I don’t feel good,” Harry groaned, making himself sound tired.
Mrs. Weasley was skeptical. True, his face was red and flushed, but he did have his head under the pillows. She saw the box on his nightstand. “Oh, really?” She grabbed the snack box and opened it, nothing was missing. “Let me get the thermometer.”
Mrs. Weasley returned quickly, a thermometer in hand. She placed it under Harry’s tongue and went to wake the girls. “I’ll be right back. Leave that in your mouth,” she said from the door.
Harry did not keep the thermometer under his tongue however. He pulled it out and placed it against the lamp on his nightstand. He had only heard about this from kids back at his muggle primary school and did not know exactly how it worked. Ron gave a heavy grunt in his sleep and Harry nearly dropped the thermometer. He figured he should not push his luck and returned the thermometer to his mouth, nearly burning his tongue.
Mrs. Weasley returned and removed the thermometer from Harry’s mouth. It read just over 41 degrees Celsius (106 degrees Fahrenheit). Mrs. Weasley looked over the thermometer in her hand at the faking little boy, very disappointed. “Yep, you’re hot. You’ll have to stay in bed today.”
Harry hid his relief but as Mrs. Weasley adjusted his blankets he shivered, having been exposed to cold air. “Oh, are you cold Harry? Poor baby, I can fix that.” She went to his clothes and retrieved the footed-sleeper. Harry had expected this and did not mind as it was such a cold morning. Mrs. Weasley quickly changed him into it and tucked him back under the covers. “I’ll come get you once breakfast is ready. You should rest as much as possible.”
Mrs. Weasley woke Ron and left the room. After Ron dressed he noticed Harry still in bed. “Aren’t you coming to breakfast?”
“Your mum wants me to stay in bed, ‘cause I’m sick.”
“Oh. You don’t look very sick to me.” Ron left the room before Harry could respond. Harry heard Ginny and Hermione walk past the room too. He just laid in bed, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to get him for breakfast.
It was not Mrs. Weasley, but Ginny who came to get Harry though. She pulled Harry from the blankets and laid him in the middle of a fleece blanket, she had spread on his bed. “What are you doing?” Ginny was carefully and tightly wrapping Harry in the blanket.
“Mum says your sick and need to be kept warm. You don’t seem very sick though.”
“I have a fever!”
“Really?” Ginny put the back of her hand to Harry’s forehead. “Doesn’t feel like it.” She picked Harry up and carried him from the room. The blanket was so tight that Harry could hardly move in it. It was very comfortable, so he did not mind too much.
Bending his legs to sit seemed to be the extent of movements the blanket would allow. Harry tried to pull his hands free from the folds as Ginny took her seat but could not. Mrs. Weasley sat a plate of food in front of him, like the others, but Harry had no clue how he was supposed to eat. “Could you loosen my blanket Mrs. Weasley, so I can eat?”
“Don’t worry about that dear. It’s best that you stay as warm as possible and try not to move, so I’ll feed you.” She tied a bib around Harry and sat next to him.
“You don’t have to. I can still do it.” Mrs. Weasley just shushed him as she brought a bite of scrambled eggs to his mouth. Harry was fed and a sippy-cup of juice raised to his mouth to drink. He was finished just before the others.
Mrs. Weasley removed the still clean bib and began to eat her breakfast. “Could one of you take Harry back to bed for me? I’ll clean up down here and then we can get going.” Hermione lifted Harry from his chair and followed the others upstairs.
Hermione was silent, but Ron and Ginny were griping about having to do chores all day. When they got back to Harry’s and Ron’s room, Ron turned to Harry. “You’re faking, aren’t you? What’d you do to convince mum?”
“I think he took a fever fudge,” Ginny offered as Hermione unwrapped Harry from the fleece blanket. “He didn’t have a fever when I got him before breakfast, but he says he does.”
Harry was tired of them talking like he was not there. “I do so have a fever. Your mum checked with a thermometer.”
“Really,” Hermione asked, now entering the conversation. She had just put Harry under the covers and reached for the Skiving Snackbox. “Maybe he is sick.” Hermione showed the others the full contents of the box. Ginny, Hermione and Ron sat on Ron’s bed and continued complaining about chores. Harry wished they would leave him alone to think.
“You all look pretty glum,” Mrs. Weasley commented when she entered the room ten minutes later. “Considering your father,” she pointed to Ron and Ginny, “got us all tickets to a Quidditch match. England vs. Scotland.”
“What?” Ron was the first to speak. “You said we were cleaning today.”
“I had to say something to keep it a surprise why your father really was her yesterday.”
“What about Harry?” Ginny asked just before Harry could himself.
“Don’t worry. I managed to find a babysitter.”
“WHAT?”
“We can’t take you dear. You’re far too sick. Your fever would be really bad when we got back.”
Harry’s mind was racing. What had he done to himself? It would be horrible to not be able to go to a Quidditch match with the others. “Actually, I’m feeling much better, really. Maybe I just needed some breakfast.”
“I don’t know. Your fever was really high. It’s best that you stay here. Go get your cloaks girls.”
“Could you check again? Please?” Ron was smirking as he got his own cloak.
“Alright, I’ll be right back.” Ron mouthed “faker” from where he was putting on his cloak.
Mrs. Weasley returned with the thermometer, again, just as Ginny and Hermione returned, dressed in their cloaks. She put it under Harry’s tongue and sat next to him. After a minute, she pulled it out and examined it. It read normal, 37 degrees Celsius (I’m making you guys convert this one.).
“No. I’m afraid you’re still hot Harry. I wouldn’t feel right taking you.”
“That can’t be right. I feel fine. Maybe it’s broken.” He was on the verge of telling the truth but knew he would be in a lot of trouble. He was wondering how he could have a fever now.
“Well, I do have another thermometer.” She got up and left the room.
Mrs. Weasley returned, another thermometer in hand. She swiftly unzipped his sleeper, pulled it off his upper body and rolled Harry to his stomach. “What are you doing,” Harry asked, turning his head to see her.
“This is a baby thermometer,” she replied, pulling down the back of the Pull-Ups that he was still wearing from the previous night..
“No!” Harry quickly flipped himself over and pulled his pajamas back up. The others were giggling with their hands over their mouths. “I don’t want you to use that. Shut up!”
“It’s the only other thermometer I have.”
“I don’t care.”
“You know I can’t take you if I think you have a fever? If you don’t let me check, you’ll have to stay here.”
Harry did not want that, but he was not going to let Mrs. Weasley use a baby thermometer on him. The one time he had dared to tell the Durslys that he was sick, in second grade, Aunt Petunia had used one, even though she had always used an oral one with Dudley. He was not going to experience it again. “Fine!”
“Alright. I’m sorry you’re sick. I can tell you really want to go. But …” She zipped Harry’s sleeper and kissed his forehead before tightly tucking him in. She ushered the others out of the room and Harry heard her talking to somebody in the hallway.
“Goodbye Harry. Be good,” Mrs. Weasley called from the door. She disappeared and Tonks entered the room. She was dressed in blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Her hair was long, wavy and brown today.
(I had an idea when reading the reviews. So I have a question I would like answered if you review. All you have to do is write the letter that indicates your choice. How do you think this story will end?
A). Harry learns his lesson and returns to Hogwarts this year.
B). Harry learns the lesson, but too late for this year. He returns the following year, in the same year as Ginny.
C). Harry does not learn the lesson and must grow up all over again and become a first year when eleven.
If you have any thoughts on your preference you may also include those. Thank you.)