About Harry

Hermione

In the morning I wake up and I feel horrible. I've got an intense pain in my lower abdomen, and in a flash I understand why. I've got my period. All taken by the drama I completely forgot; what day is it? Am I late? Am I early? Who knows...? I must get back in touch with reality but, right now, I feel so sick and aching I cannot concentrate. I think I bled on the linen too.

Sometimes it happens I get very sick. Not often but I guess all the stress and disruptions of my personal routine didn't play in my favour.

While I'm trying to figure out how to handle the situation in between painful cramps, Harry is awake too. He caresses me lovingly but when he sees my face he falters.

'What's the matter? You are pale'

'I don't feel well'

Anxious, he eases himself on his elbow 'What's wrong?'

'No, Harry, nothing bad' I say to reassure him, but I feel so shy in admitting the reason of my sickness. My god, like If I am thirteen years old or something!

'Only stomach-cramps, nothing serious'

He frowns and then after a moment of consideration asks, 'Have you got your period?'

I nod feeling shyer by the minute and for no reason at all, for Heaven's sake!

'I think I dirtied the sheets' I mutter sheepishly while clenching my abdomen.

He peers underneath 'Mmhh.. I'm afraid so' he says grinning.

'I'm sorry' I say contrite in a fit of deep shame.

He chuckles 'Nothing to be sorry for. Can you stand?'

I answer in the affirmative.

'I prepare you a hot bath, it'll make you feel better. I'll change the linen in the meanwhile'

'No Harry!' I stammer 'Don't. I'll do it!'

He is already getting out of bed. Only in his pants. If no even period cramps save me from enjoying the sight, there is no hope.

On wearing his t-shirt, he answers, 'Don't be silly' and he shots out from the room.

I crouch on myself in sufferance but also very pleased. He is truly caring.

After a few minutes he is back in the living room 'The bath is ready. Have you got some pads? I don't know if there are any in the house'

I see his expression clouding slightly. The house has been purged from any of Ginny's belongings and he is reflecting on it. I don't want him to. I stammer quickly.

'Don't worry, I can use some toilet paper'

'Toilet paper?! You are joking, I hope! There is a supermarket just around the corner, I'll pop in and buy some' he says wearing a sweater and jeans. He is so lovely I'm almost moved to tears but when I see him grabbing his muggle wallet, I grow worried all of sudden. 'Harry!' I bellow before he leaves the room.

He turns enquiringly.

'Buy only the pads, all right?'

He looks puzzled 'Why? Don't you want me to buy something for lunch since I'm there? I thought to get some eggs and bacon for breakfast too, I rather fancy a fry-up'

He has such a look of ingenuity on his face that I perceive he is not lying. He forgot about wanting to buy drugs only the day before yesterday.

'Yes, ok. But buy some veggies too' I answer debilitated. He smirks and leaves the house.

I drag myself with difficulty to the bathroom. He left me also some fluffy towels close to the bathtub. He is such a nice guy. And I'm so hopelessly in love that is shameful. I would reproach myself if only I wouldn't be suffering the pain of hell.

While I try to fight the discomfort in the warmth of the water, I hear the front door open. He is back.

It's followed by some rummaging of shopping bags and bustle around the house.

After a while he knocks at the door 'I left in front of the door pads and some paracetamol. I wanted to get you a potion, but, you know, I cannot go to Diagon Alley'

I'd rather have preferred a potion but the only one I had I gave it to Harry for his headache. I don't like muggle medicine much. If you read the leaflet there are so many side effects is scary, they seem more harmful than beneficial, but I'll take them, beggars can't be chooser. I feel splitting in two.

After half an hour I'm back in bed hoping the damned poisonous paracetamol is either going to take the pain away or to kill me.

Harry brings me a cup of tea and sits on the edge of the bed while I'm sipping it.

'Thank you for the pads' I mumble.

'No problem'

'How did you know what to take?'

He sniggers 'It's always the same, innit?'

I frown taken aback by this answer. He has no way to know actually. This is not an information you usually share with your male best friend, more with your female best friend. In fact, I perfectly know what Ginny used. The brand he got me as a matter of fact. I feel a creep rising on my back.

'Harry?' I ask tentatively.

'Yes?' he answers while caressing my head and smiling affectionately.

'Nothing'

I decide cowardly not to bring up the subject for the moment. I don't want to destroy his smile. I decide to believe it's simply a lapsus.

'Do you mind if I do my work out here before to get breakfast?'

I give my consent trying not to look too cheerful. Actually, I always rather enjoyed watching him doing his workout. A small guilty pleasure I allowed myself time to time when we were still working together. In both our departments keeping fit was essential and, in the Ministry, there is a small gym employees can use. We went there together time to time but only late in the evening or very early in the morning when the Ministry was almost empty. Otherwise, he wouldn't get any peace.

Between men trying to ingratiate themselves and women who wanted to be noticed, he couldn't have a quiet moment. Poor man. With any other person it would have been called persecution but with him it was considered normal and acceptable.

Well, I don't know if it's the paracetamol or seeing his muscles working under the effort, but all of sudden I feel definitely better. When he finishes and take out his t-shirt to swipe away the sweat around his neck, I feel so well that I need to grasp the duvet to prevent myself from sprinting and attacking him in a manner of a lion on the antelope.

'Do you want some breakfast?' he asks throwing the t-shirt in a corner of the room.

I shake my head. I don't trust myself using my voice; I'm afraid only an unintelligible squeal would come out.

Mistaking it for lingering pain, he gets close and rest his chin on the bed just few inches from my face 'Poor thing' he says brushing my cheek. His manly smell invades me making me dizzy. The lion in me is ready to jump.

'Don't worry. I'll take care of you' he says kissing my forehead.

This is rather nice. I think I'll pretend to be unwell a bit longer.