"Achoo!"

"Gesundheit"

"I dhink dai dhab ah coldh."

"That is obvious."

Ron ducks to avoid a flying pillow. Unfortunately for Hermione, the pillow raises dust, and that made her sneeze even more.

"Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!"

Ron winces at the wet slobbering sounds that the puffy-eyed, more-frizzy-than-usual, nasal toned woman he calls a wife, makes.

"Idh's nodhad badh izzidh?"

Ron thinks there is no safe way to answer that one, and opens his mouth, "Well…" only to be cut off mid-sentence by the WHOOSH of the Floo in the living room.

"Saved by the Floo from the Flu," he thinks to himself before excusing himself to see who it is.

"Oi! I brought the potion!" Harry yells into Ron's face, scrubbing his glasses.

"Oh! Hello mate," he grins at the dazed Ron when he puts his glasses back on, "Sorry didn't see you there."

"Right mate, you sure you got the right one?"

"'Course Ron! I'm not blind you know," Harry replies a bit affronted, before brushing past Ron, scattering soot on the rug.

"So you think," Ron mumbles before scorgify-ing the soot and Harry's robes as he followed him to the room.

"Hullo 'Mione….EGAD!"

Hermione rolls her eyes, "D'hullo Dharry."

"I'm sure Dharry says Dhullo back." A balled up tissue hits Harry on the nose, "Ewww 'Mione! Germs!" he yells and flails about as if fighting off miniscule germs.

A loud "Smack!" comes from Ron, who's not left the doorway, and Hermione looks up to see him slapping his forehead with a palm.

"Harry, just give her the potion, alright?"

Hermione catches the vial thrown toward her by a still flailing Harry, and reads the label carefully.

"Duh Padahnodh seal?"

It takes a minute for Ron to understand, and he throws the nearest pillow at Harry, who loses balance, trips on his robes and falls with a "Thunk" to the ground.

"Oh," he says when he's prone on the floor, "that's the new seal coming with potions, not by the ministry, but some corporation who claims to mark superior quality potions and charms."

Ron can see the wheels turn in Hermione's mucus clogged, err, mucus clog affected brain.

"How is it I don't know about it?"

Hermione and Ron seem equally surprised at the high-speed recovery. "Oh!" they both say, and look toward a smug-looking Harry, still prone on the floor.

"Told you," Harry sing-songs, "Worked a miracle on Drake when he caught that cold from working with the dragons. Poor Charlie too! Well, they both caught it at the same time."

Ron and Hermione exchange looks, and Ron shakes his head minutely. Well everyone but Harry knew how exactly Draco and Charlie ended up with a cold at the same time. Hermione shrugs and works toward banishing the little hills of balled tissues strewn around the bed.

"What?" Harry looks between them.

"Nothing mate, err, still surprised at the speed, yeah?"

"Super fast, although they increased the price of the potion after the seal came with it." Harry nods to himself.

"Did it now?" Hermione looks up from straightening the bed sheets, "that sounds like a marketing ploy. Who owns the Paranoid Seal anyway?"

Harry casts a scorgify on the sheets and proceeds to collapse into an unceremonious heap on the freshly made bed.

Hermione glares, but supposes she owes him that much after bringing that fantastic potion.

"Well no side-effects so far, and I feel great, a bit of a headache though."

"That'll go away in a bit. Headaches are a pain to get rid of that easy."

"Right, Ron would you mind putting on some tea?" Hermione says as she opens the curtains.

"Finally, this place looked like a dungeon or an underground cave or something," Ron mutters and turns to leave the room.

"Or something," Hermione says, and turns to Harry, who's conjured a mirror to poke at his spiky hair.

Draco finally figured out that messy but gelled hair was more appealing than an unruly mop. But Harry looks so much more, err, gay?

Harry looks up at Hermione and notices for the first time that she' wearing pink pyjamas.

Pink-Bunny-Pyjamas.

Hermione huffs in indignation at the snickering and snorting heap of Harry.

"'Mione, you look like * Snort * A big * Snicker * Fluffy brown bunny! HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Well, you look like a giggling porcupine."

"HAHAHAH! Huh?"

Hermione leaves the room, and is halfway across the hall when the last horse crosses the line.

"Hey! This is a fashionable haircut!" She hears from the bedroom, and promptly rolls her eyes.

"Tea's ready!" Ron yells from the kitchen, and she finds him hovering her favourite Betty over three cups. She can smell ginger, and is immensely thankful for Ron's sense to add some calming element to the tea.

"Mmmm," she smacks her lips, taking a sip from the tea cup, "Thanks Ron, you're a darling."

He just gives her a rakish lopsided smile, the one she adores so much, and their eyes are still locked when Harry makes his way into the kitchen.

"IS that MY EYELINER?" Hermione shrieks, and almost drops her tea.

"Oh no! Well, yeah," he amends quickly at the glares, "I just borrowed some, 'Mione. Drake says they enhance the green-ness of my eyes."

This time Ron and Hermione both roll their eyes.

"What??" Harry asks, looking between them.