Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Hello =) This is my first Harry Potter story but it was so cute in my head that I just had to write it down. I'm not really sure when it's set in reference to the books because I'm not even done the first one yet…but I'm working on it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy =)

"Aren't you up yet?" Harry heard the shrill voice of his Aunt Petunia through his cupboard door. He rolled over, wishing he could go back to sleep. Harry felt awful; his sinuses were clogged, his head was pounding and his stomach was doing flip-flops.

"Up! Now!" Uncle Vernon's voice boomed throughout the house. After only about ten seconds, Uncle Vernon pounded on the door.

"Don't make me come in there!" he threatened. As much as Harry would wish Uncle Vernon would come in and see that he was sick, he knew it would do no good. The Dursleys would tell him he was faking it, make him get up and go to school. Taking a tremendous amount of effort, Harry forced his aching body into first a sitting position and then a standing position.

"I'm up. I'll be out in a minute." Harry called with as much gusto as he could manage without throwing up. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Uncle Vernon's heavy footsteps take him to the kitchen. Looking at his cracked wristwatch (it had been Dudley's at one point), Harry realized he wasn't going to have time for breakfast, which, to be honest, suited him just fine. Throwing on the same old worn clothes, Harry opened the door to his cupboard and squinted into the bright light of the hallway.

"Hurry up, Harry! You're dawdling." Aunt Petunia scolded as Harry walked into the kitchen.

"You don't have time for breakfast." Dudley told him from the table where a platter of sausage and eggs were sitting. Harry shrugged his shoulders and moved towards the counter to get his lunch…a cold, leftover sandwich from last night's supper and an apple.

"Aunt Petunia…" Harry said, after dropping his lunch into his bag. He had decided it was worth a shot to try and tell his Aunt his was sick on the slightest chance she's let him go back to the cupboard.

"What?" Aunt Petunia replied, sounding as if Harry had interrupted something very important.

"I…I don't feel well." Harry squeaked out.

"You're fine." Aunt Petunia snapped, without even looking at the boy. One could tell by just looking at Harry that he was not fine but that didn't seem to matter to Aunt Petunia.

"It's time for school." Uncle Vernon said from his place at the breakfast table but looked over to see Dudley not quite done his breakfast.

"Don't hurry, Dudley. I can drop you off on my way into the city."

Harry took this to mean that he was to walk the twelve blocks so he picked up his tattered backpack and left the house, no one bothering to call good-bye or to remind him to wear a coat.

Making it to school just in time, Harry sat in the back of the classroom, hoping that no one would give him any notice. As fate would have it, no one talked to Harry until first recess. Reluctant to even get up, Harry put on his too-big jacket and walked out into the brisk November air. While he was looking for a place he could just sit down until recess was over, Dudley and his gang came up to him and before Harry could notice and run away, they had surrounded him.

"Did you enjoy the walk to school?" Dudley asked, smirking. Behind him, Dennis was punching his fist into his hand, warming it up for Harry's face. Harry closed his eyes momentarily, wishing he was at home, in his safe little cupboard where Dudley was too fat to fit, fast asleep in his bed.

"Too scared to answer, eh?" Piers asked with a laugh.

"Well, this'll give you something to be scared of."

Not being of sound mind or body, Harry didn't even see the punch coming, much less move out of the way. The blow hit him square in the stomach, making Harry gasp for air. He bent over double while the boys around him laughed. Their laughter, however, turned to cries of disgust quite quickly as Harry threw up. Much to his delight, some of it splattered onto their perfectly kept shoes.

"Ew!" The boys screamed and ran away, leaving Harry still doubled over. A moment later, Ms. Adams came over. Ms. Adams, a teacher, had always felt sorry for Harry, having heard his life story and she knew it couldn't have been easy living with the Dursleys. Her eyes were filled with sympathy as she rubbed Harry's back. Harry finally felt confident enough to raise his head, only to be mortified that all the kids on the playground were pointing and laughing at him. This was just one more thing that made him different, one more reason to laugh.

"Come on, Harry." Ms. Adams said gently. She led Harry inside to the nurses' office. Harry sat down in a comfortable chair while Ms. Adams told the nurse what had happened.

"I hope you feel better, Harry." She said before she left.

"So Harry, Ms. Adams tells me you threw up." the nurse said to him. Harry nodded miserably.

"What did you eat for breakfast?"

"I didn't have breakfast." Harry mumbled. "Uncle Vernon said I was going to be late."

"What did you have for supper last night?"

"Can't remember."

Harry really wished the nurse would stop making him talk. Each time he talked, he felt like he was going to throw up again.

"Okay, Harry. Why don't you come and lay down and I'll call your Aunt to come pick you up."

Although not pleased that the school was going to be calling Aunt Petunia, Harry felt relieved to lie down. The nurse pulled the blanket around him. She left the room – presumably to call Mrs. Dursley - and came back a moment later carrying a thermometer.

"Harry?" she said and Harry cracked open his eyes.

"I'm going to need you to open your mouth. I have to take your temperature."

Harry, not really caring what he had to do as long as he could remain lying down, opened his mouth obediently. After a few moments, the nurse pulled the glass tube from his mouth and studied it.

"Tsk, tsk." she said. "It's no wonder you feel awful, Harry."

The nurse left Harry to sleep and he dozed until he heard Aunt Petunia's shrill voice.

"Well, where is he?"

Harry opened his eyes and cringed at the sight of Aunt Petunia standing in front of him.

"Up." she commanded and Harry sat up slowly.

"Well, come on, I don't have all day."

Harry moved as fast as he could without throwing up, something which Aunt Petunia did not seem to appreciate. In her mind, Harry was moving much too slowly on purpose. Finally, he was sitting in the backseat of Aunt Petunia's car, something Harry rarely got to do but he was too sick to feel excited.

"Don't you dare be sick." Aunt Petunia said as she turned the key. Luckily for both of them, Harry wasn't sick and they were soon pulling into the drive of Four, Privet Drive. Aunt Petunia unlocked the house door and didn't say anything to Harry so he went to cupboard and fell into his own bed.

Several hours later, Aunt Petunia had not come to check on Harry and that suited Harry just fine. He was still dozing but was jolted awake by the front door slamming shut. Harry looked at his watch and realized that Dudley must be home from school. A moment later, the door to his cupboard was thrown open and Harry squinted his eyes against the bright light. Dudley stuck his head and shoulders in, blocking all the light and Harry could see a little better.

"You little bugger." Dudley said. "Just wait until I get my hands on you. Why, we're going to pound you into salt, you little worm."

"Please, Dudley, just go away." Harry begged.

"Why should I?"

"Dudley, please…just go away. Leave me alone…"

-HARRY POTTER-

"Dudley, please…just go away. Leave me alone…" Harry mumbled, tossing and turning on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room.

"Harry? Harry, wake up." Hermione shook her friends' shoulder and Harry's eyes opened in surprise, breathing hard.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, kneeling next to the couch.

"I was dreaming…" Harry responded. "I felt awful, Dudley wouldn't go away, and I threw up on the school playground."

Hermione gave a sympathetic smile.

"Well, Dudley isn't here. But Harry, you don't look that great now, I have to say. Do you still feel awful?"

Without waiting for an answer from him, Hermione laid a hand on Harry's flushed cheek.

"I think you have a fever." she said. A visit from Madame Pomfrey confirmed that Harry did, in fact, have a mild case of what was called the Muggles' Flu.

"Don't worry." Hermione said, bringing Harry a cup of tea after Madame Pomfrey had gone.

"In a few days, you'll be good as new."

Harry nodded and took a sip of the tea and gagged.

"What's in this?" he asked, still coughing.

"Dragon's nails. It helps with an upset stomach." Hermione answered. She was perched daintily on the edge of Harry's bed.

"If you say so." Harry said, forcing down another sip. Hermione smiled and Harry had to admit if he had to be sick, he was sure glad it was at Hogwarts. He had a comfortable bed, warm food that was brought to him, no one yelling at him that he was moving too slowly and most importantly of all, it was Hermione who was in his room instead of Dudley. Hermione was actually concerned about Harry instead of Dudley, who had been threatening to pound Harry to salt. Yes, it was good to be at Hogwarts.

"I'm glad I'm here, Hermione." Harry said with a yawn. Hermione took the teacup from Harry's hands and set it on the table next to his bed. She stood up and tucked the blankets around her sick friend as his eyes drooped.

"I'm glad you're here too, Harry." she said before turning off the light.

Reviews are always nice…