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Harry had been shivering non stop ever since he’d arrived at the flat he shared with Draco. The fact that he was now seated on the kitchen table, wrapped in a blanket with the sun shining on him did nothing to stop that. Maybe a heating charm would help, but he didn’t feel up to casting anything at that moment.
In the morning, waking up next to a still sleeping Draco, surprising his still somewhat recent lover with breakfast, he had felt more than okay. Now, however, things were different. He hadn’t even needed his assistant to tell him to go home, he’d done that himself. But even the green flames of the floo network couldn’t stop him from feeling chilled all over.
He had briefly contemplated writing to Draco about his ill state of health, but he’d decided against it. He didn’t feel much like searching for parchment and Draco wouldn’t be able to do much for him anyway.
Okay, perhaps a warming charm would be nice, but Harry didn’t think such a petty matter was worth it to disturb Draco for. The head of forensic potioneering surely had better things to do than look after him.
Maybe he should have regretted that decision when dinner time came and went without any sign of Draco coming home, but by that time another symptom had presented itself; Apart from feverish and cold, Harry now also suffered from vertigo. He could only tell time by the setting of the sun, because he feared turning his head to look at the clock would make him topple off the kitchen table.
He felt utterly miserable.
“Harry, I’m home!” Finally, around half past eight, Harry’s boyfriend stumbled through the floo. “I’m sorry I’m late, but Robbarts insisted I’d be at the staff meeting, and then Percy threw a hissy fit and it lasted for hours and hours and-”
Harry shivered again and very carefully turned his head. Draco’s face paled considerably as soon as he caught sight of Harry sitting on the table.
“Fuck, Harry, are you okay?” Draco immediately hurried over to the table after dropping his bag and outer potions master robes carelessly onto the floor.
“No.” It came out choked, more a sob than a word, and as soon as it came over his lips Harry silently started to cry. It was a stupid thing of him to do really, he wasn’t dying for fuck’s sake, but he couldn’t help it. He was so cold and disorientated and overall miserable that he’d lost control of himself.
He didn’t doubt that he would have fallen onto the floor if Draco hadn’t caught him by then. He’d been swaying back and forth so much he must have looked like a crazy person to his lover.
“Who did this to you?” Draco half whispered against Harry’s messy curls as he pulled his shivering form in a tight embrace.
“Virus, I think.” He sniffed and tried to steady himself by wrapping his arms around Draco. “I’m sick.”
“Why didn’t you owl me? I would have skipped that meeting for you. When did you last eat? When did you get home? How are you feeling now? What are your symptoms? Did they get worse? Do you need me to take you to St. Mungo’s?” The questions Draco bombarded him with were all very concerned and heartfelt, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to answer.
Instead he muttered, “I’m sorry.”
Draco sputtered in shock. “What is heaven's name for?”
“I don’t know. For being a bother maybe.” Harry tightened his grip on Draco but that didn’t make him feel any better. It still seemed as though the world was spinning around him. Even after drinking half a bottle of whiskey he hadn’t felt as shite as he did in that moment.
“Shall I get you into bed and make you something to eat?” Draco asked.
Harry nodded, and groaned when the motion caused his world to start spinning faster. He barely noticed Draco carrying him to bed and he was already half asleep when the man came back with some tea and toast.
“Why didn’t you owl me?” Harry half expected Draco to repeat his thousands of other questions too, but luckily he only sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at the Pakistani man with intense worry in his grey eyes.
“Didn’t want to bother you.” Harry muttered. The sleepiness off his brain rendered him incapable of lying. “And it’s not like you could have done much. Maybe cast something against the cold, but… “
Harry shrugged and then groaned as the vertigo made waves of nausea crash down on him. “You were busy.”
Draco, to Harry’s surprise, didn’t immediately reply to that. Instead he got up, kneeled in front of him and then firmly grasped both of his trembling hands. “Harry, I need you to listen to me, okay?”
Harry didn’t make the mistake of nodding again but let his eyes speak yes as loudly as they could. He hoped Draco could see that.
“You are never, ever bothering me when you ask for help, and I am never too busy to look after you when you feel like shit. I’d be honoured if you let me take care of you, but if you want me to call one of your friends, or Mrs Weasley or Sirius and Remus or even the hospital then that’s okay too. As long as you take good care of yourself.” Draco squeezed his hands. “Please Harry.”
“Okay.” It was odd to feel waves of love at the same time as waves of dizziness and nausea, but that was what was coursing through Harry’s body after Draco’s speech. “Then I’d like a friend at my bedside.”
Draco’s face fell, but only for a split second. Then he gave Harry a half smile and tried to get up. Harry wouldn’t let him though. He tightened his grip on his lover and pulled him back to the bed, trying to ignore his vertigo with all his might.
“I meant you you absolute wanker.” Draco’s face lit up their bedroom better than the sun ever could when he figured out the meaning behind those words. Then he laughed and climbed into bed with Harry, who immediately felt better when Draco’s warm skin was pressed against his back.
“You feeling okay now, babe?” Draco muttered into Harry’s neck.
“Sort of, but I don’t think this is something you can fix.” Harry replied as he pulled one of Draco’s arms over his chest.
“Pity.”
“Pity indeed.”
“Ey Draco?”
“Yes Harry?”
“I love you.”
There was a brief silence, then, “Love you too babe.”