Chapter 7

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A few weeks after the incident, Harry was finally getting over what happened. It was surprisingly easy. He simply pretended it never happened. The only time he remembered it was in his dreams. Besides, it wasn't like Voldemort was having a hard time. If anything he was attacking with renewed vigor, so why should he care. It was just a one-time thing, they got it out of their system and it wouldn't happen again. Harry continued his training to be an Auror and everything was alright.

That was until he came down with the flu; at least that is what he thought it was.

He woke up one morning with an upset stomach and had to sprint to the bathroom to throw up. He had thought it was just something he ate last night and ignored it, moving on to start his day like normal. But the next few days were the same, he woke up and he had to rush to the bathroom to empty his stomach.

"Great, just what I needed; to be sick," he muttered to himself as he walked back to his bedroom of the small apartment he had gotten after he had finished school. He went to work at the Weasley twins' shop and then continued his Auror training later on in the day. Halfway through his session, he got sick once more and barely made it to the restroom.

Ron peeked around the corner of the stall, "Are you alright, mate?"

"Yeah," he said wiping his mouth and flushing the toilet, "I think I'm coming down with something."

"I can tell," Ron looked at him worriedly, "You don't look so good."

"I don't feel so good either," Harry said and spun around back to the stall to start throwing up again.

Ron made a face behind him, "Maybe you should go home. Mum always said rest and hot soup is good for the stomach."

Harry groaned and slumped over the toilet. Just the thought of food made his stomach queasy. But he knew Ron was right, maybe it would help. So he made his request to his trainer and was allowed to go home to rest.

xxx

The only thing was rest did nothing to appease the sickness. Even after a week and potion after potion, it wasn't going away. Mrs. Weasley had invited him over for proper care, but nothing she did was working, even though it always had in the past.

It was during dinner one night with all the Weasley's and Hermione, that he had had enough. Dinner had been going great, Harry had been feeling a little better and was able to keep most foods down now. That was until Ron passed him the meatloaf that his stomach took a sudden turn for the worst. He dropped the container on the floor and ran out of the room and to the bathroom, throwing up the little he had eaten.

The Weasley's had jumped when Harry made his dash to the bathroom and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and Ron followed, the others elected to stay behind.

"Harry dear are you alright?" Mrs. Weasley said rubbing his back.

Harry nodded silently. What was wrong with him?

"You should go see a doctor," Hermione suggested.

Harry made a face as he stood up. Who knows what a scandal they would make if he went there, but Hermione was right, he really should go to see someone.

"If you don't want to go to St. Mungo's, go see Madame Pomfrey."

Harry nodded liking that idea more, "You're right. I'll go tomorrow."

xxx

The next day found Harry under Madame Pomfrey's ministrations again. Ron and Hermione had tagged along, worried about their friend. But Harry didn't think anything of it; he thought it was just the stomach flu. When he told Hermione this, she shot that idea down:

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