A.N. Okay, I know it's been long, but I've been lacking muse for this story so updates are a bit slow, but I won't give it up ;) This chapter has just been finished so please excuse any mistakes you may find. It's March 8 here btw (international Women's day), so much love to all the ladies all around the world :)

Chapter 20 – Cold

It all started with a cold. A wizard's cold.

"Aacho!", Draco sneezed, taking another tissue from Harry and miserably wiping his nose. Robert shook his head.

"I can't discharge him like that, Harry. I mean, I can if Healer Weasley sees him and writes him a prescription for the cold, but I can't let him Apparate in his condition."

"Side-along?", Harry suggested.

Both Draco and Robert shook their heads again, Draco – looking greenish.

"That's a bad idea, Harry. It would only make him feel sick", Robert explained while Draco nodded vehemently. Harry didn't give up.

"Floo?"

"Same thing, I'm afraid", Robert said, looking as if he was apologizing. "And before you suggest a broom ride, let me tell you that it would only worsen his cold as well, what with being exposed to the wind and in such an awful weather…"

It was true that it had rained non-stop for the last three days. It had finally stopped today but it was still unnaturally cold outside, for this time of the year. Harry sighed.

"Well, the only thing that comes to my mind then is a car ride", he said.

Draco gulped and Harry suspected he'd suppressed a whimper. Like most wizards, and especially as a pure-blooded one, Draco didn't feel comfortable around any Muggle-based or even Muggle-related inventions. Such as big metal things that tended to get into death-causing accidents. Draco's expression clearly said, "If the cold doesn't finish me, that car ride certainly will!" Harry exhaled tiredly.

"Draco, I'm sorry, but you must. We can't walk back all the way to my place or Malfoy Manor."

There was a pregnant pause; then finally the blonde nodded miserably as if accepting his doom.

Ron was as busy as always but managed to spare a few minutes for Draco's check up.

"Tsk, that looks bad, Malfoy", Ron said examining Draco's sore throat; he shook his head again and began scribbling a prescription for the Apothecary on the first floor of the hospital. "Drink those potions I'll prescribe you, or it may worsen into laryngitis. Do not try to prepare those potions by yourself! You have a high temperature and it may make you dizzy, so no matter how good you are at Potions don't try anything."

Draco still looked like he expected Ron to treat him like an enemy, to lash out and refuse treating him as a patient. Harry had explained how much his best friend had changed, Draco had even met Ron and they'd had a very civilized talk, but Draco still looked wary around the redhead. Harry hoped that'll eventually change.

"Well… that's all I can do for you now. You must rest and drink lots of liquids, especially citrus juice", Ron concluded.

"I'll make sure that he stays in bed", Harry said; when Ron and Draco both turned to look at him pointedly he finally realized what he'd said and how it had sounded. "Resting!", he added quickly, glaring at Ron's smirking face.

Ron continued smirking, the redheaded bastard, all the way to the foyer where Harry and Draco waited for the taxi; Draco was still horrified by the idea, looking even more pale than usual, but he'd accepted that it was their only option right now. They had only waited for about 3 minutes when Harry decided that Ron's smug face was a bit too much for him right now and their cab must have arrived anyway. He took Draco's hand, ignoring Ron and Draco's splutters, and strode towards the front doors. And then he froze, cursing quietly, before he quickly stepped back.

"What?", Ron and Draco asked in unison.

"Someone has alerted the press!", Harry hissed.

And, indeed, a horde of reporters, armed with cameras and quick-quotes quills, waited for them in front of the hospital, looking impatient. Harry groaned, pacing in front of his best mate and… Draco.

"Who told them?! Who the hell told them the exact day and time we'd leave?!", he glared at Ron. The redhead spread his arms in denial, shaking his head.

"Don't look at me, mate, you know I'd never do that! If not for our friendship, I simply don't have the time to go calling the media!"

Harry sighed, ruffling his messy hair. "I know, I know…Well, nothing else we can do…"

He pulled out his wand, pointing it at Draco. The blonde stepped back and Ron lifted a stopping hand.

"Woah, woah! What do you think you're doing?", Ron asked.

"Casting a disillusionment charm", Harry answered simply.

The redhead shook his head. "You can't do that, Harry, not when he's that sick. Didn't Swanson tell you? Any magic cast around Draco right now will become unstable and may have unpredictable results."

"Damn wizard's cold!", Harry swore, turning back to pacing nervously before his face suddenly lit up.

Later, as he looked back, Draco thought he should have been alarmed by Harry's thoughtful, calculating gaze back then. And the slow smile that spread on his face in the next moment.

"I have an idea…"

"Do explain… what exactly are we waiting for?", Draco asked, annoyed, as they stood in the shadows by the doors, waiting for something to happen.

"Our perfect distraction….Oh, you'll see…", Harry smirked… looking at the sky.

Draco sniffled, fidgeting restlessly. What was Potter up to again?

And then suddenly he knew and wished he hadn't.

Potter's idea of 'distraction' dove from the sky in all its rage and glory… in the form of a dragon. A fucking dragon! A Welsh Red Dragon, who drifted above the terrified reporters before it landed majestically right in front of the hospital, separating the reporters and the hospital's doors. And then Neville-fucking-Longbottom jumped from its back, obviously having flown on the beast's back, riding it. He looked back at them, as if he had known exactly where they were hiding and winked, smiling a small bastard half-smile.

Neville-I-was-a-stuttering-midget-then-grew-some-balls-and-killed-the-Dark-Lord's-pet-snake-and-now-I'm-a-dragon-rider-Longbottom!

Harry tugged Draco's arm. "Come on!", he hissed, dragging the shocked blonde right behind the dragon's, and its smug rider's, back, right under the noses of the reporters, right into the waiting taxi.

"A dragon! A fucking dragon! A-Neville-Longbottom-on-a-dragon!"

"Yes, dear."

"Do not 'dear' me! You traumatize me for the rest of my life with dragons, calling them a 'distraction' of all things…"

"It was a dragon, one, single…"

"…then stuff me into a moving-metal-killing machine…"

"It's called a car…"

"Do not tell me how it's called! I've never dreamt the day will come when a Malfoy would allow to be dragged anywhere, in shocked stupor mind you!" – choking coughs – "You brute of a Savior!"

Harry sighed, holding back a small smile and a shaking of his head. How could he think, and keep thinking, that a whiny, sniffling and coughing and snuggling under three blankets, in his own bed, Draco Malfoy was adorable, was beyond him.

"Here, drink your potions…"

"I do not wish to drink any potions, given to me by someone who almost killed me, using shock and dragons and killing-cars…!"

"Do you wish to stay sick then?"

A low muttered, barely heard sulky "No."

Harry handed the vial again and the blonde begrudgingly took it, swallowing the contents. Harry sighed again and headed for the door.

"Harry?"; it was said in a small voice. Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep the smile from escaping, then turned back to face the patient.

"Yes, Draco?"

"Could you possibly bring me some chicken soup?", the blonde asked sweetly.

Harry gave a curt nod and ran for the door. One, because he had to go bring the soup and two, because he might have pounced on the patient if he'd stayed for another second in that room.

A.N. If you liked the chapter, smiled at least once or gaped in shock - review and tell me! ^^