A/N: Soooo remember when I said at the beginning of this book my writing gets sappy at 1 am? Well uh I did the original draft of this at 3 am and I'm editing it now at 2:45 am so x5 as sappy for ya lmao also I kinda forgot how old they are again heh don't kill me
3rd Person P.O.V.
That night and the next morning were not fun for the two friends.
Madam Pomfrey said that they both had concussions from when they hit the concrete floor, respectively. Not severe enough to cause permanent damage, but definitely not minor.
Based on her diagnosis from when the pair first came in, Pomfrey suspected Harry would be in the hospital for at least another day and a half, and hopefully the same would be the case for (y/n)—assuming she stopped vomiting up the medicine.
She listed the common side effects and then let them rest, leaving them each with a bucket, an extra blanket, and a cool wet towel.
Harry Potter spent the night and early morning with his eyes squeezed shut because he didn't like the way the world seemed to be turning rainbow if they were open, while (y/n) Weasley spent it with her head in a bucket.
The poor girl kept looking guiltily at Harry, knowing he needed sleep and knowing she was keeping him awake, but every time she said he could ask to be moved he would sit up, stare her in the eyes and say, "Not a chance. I'm not letting you out of my sight until you're completely healed." He would then proceed to clutch his hands to his head as the migraine that came with sitting up took over.
By 9 am (y/n) had stopped vomiting and the two could finally get some rest.
When they woke up around 7 pm, they asked for Hermione and Ron to come visit. Harry and (y/n) told them the story of what happened after the chess game.
Ron and Hermione were very good listeners, gasping at all the right spots and so on. Hermione refused to let go of (y/n)'s hand after they heard about the Cruciatus Curse.
Harry told everyone how he defeated Voldemort and how Quirrell had an evil wizard in the back of his skull.
The story finished with what Dumbledore told the children who lived just as Madam Pomfrey came in and shooed their friends away, telling Harry, "If you're just going to sit there instead of sleep, at least do it in your own bed so that Miss Weasley gets some rest!"
What the sick friends didn't know, Madam Pomfrey was smiling internally as she ordered Harry around.
Made for each other, she thought.
Once Pomfrey left, Harry travelled back to his best friend's bed and they talked and talked until it was dark, each taking a pillow, (y/n)'s head at the top of the bed and Harry's at the bottom.
The two combined the candy piles and ate almost all of the sweets while they talked.
"(Y/n)," said Harry after a particularly long moment of silence. "Do you know who your father is?"
"No," she replied, the question catching her off guard. "I, um, never got Dumbledore to tell me. Why?"
"Just curious. Is that okay?"
"Of course it is, Harry. It's good to be curious. I'll always answer your questions." (Y/n) stuck her sixth and last chocolate frog in her mouth. She knew it wasn't a good idea considering she had been sick earlier that day, but chocolate was chocolate, so she stuffed it in her face and called it done.
"So... if for example I was curious who you fancied... would you answer that?" the boy asked, mischief in his voice.
"Yes, I would, Harry. Would you like to know?"
YOU ARE READING
𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿-𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 - 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲
FanfictionYou live in an orphanage. According to the people who run it, your parents died in a car crash when you were only a year old. One day, a man comes claiming he is a Professor at a magic school called Hogwarts. He says his name is Dumbledore. What wil...
