Harry Potter The Princess' Chamber

a\n: God bless! Read and review please!!!! Thanks! (: Just a cute oneshot I thought of during a storm called Writer's Block. (:

**The Princess' Chamber**

Arthur Weasley walked quietly up the stairs of Grimmuald Place. He'd been at work for the past week; away on duty for the Order, and he had missed his family terribly. Though, at the moment, there was no time for a reunion....It was two in the morning on a cold, stormy night,and the whole of Grimmauld Place slept in silence, deep in each of their slumbers.

Or so, Arthur thought. Just before he ascended the stairs, he heard a faint sniffle coming from the kitchen, and back tracking he walked back in quickly.

"Hello?" he called hesitantly, wondering who or what was still awake. Before he knew it a thin, long red haired person, her nose red and swollen, eyes sunken, stood in front of him. A hankerchief was held in her hand, along with a cup of tea.

"I'm sorry I scared you, Dad...it wasn't my intentions..I've been up all night..." Arthur smiled.

"Its alright, Ginny...How do you feel? Mum says you've been sick...she wrote me a few days ago...I wanted to write you, dear. I'm sorry..it got so horrible; hectic all week." Ginny nodded, feeling the loss of not talking much to her father, but understanding everyone had work to do for stopping Voldemort, and that he had a normal day to day job on top of that....which, he was most lilekly stressed because of...she could see it in his eyes....How, would he explain being absent without flooing for a week?

"Ok, Dad..I'm alright....not to up to par yet, but its not as bad as when it started either..." Arthur's eyes scanned concerned over his daughter's sunken face and frame, her matted hair and chapped lips, but he tried smiling. It pained him when his children were sick or hurt: Emotionally or physically...and Arthur knew on top of this cold Ginny had been battling thoughts about a certain black haired, green eyed wizard, who likewise was going through many a struggle these days.

"Well, whats still wrong?" he asked sighing, guiding her to sit back down and lighting a lantern, prepared to stay up the night talking to his child who he knew felt horrible, and who he had not seen in what felt like forever.

"Just...i don't know...everything?" she asked cheekily. "Ugh, narrowing it down..i still have a headache, my feet and back hurts, my nose is dead and gone, i can't taste and i can barely hear..." She looked expectantly at her father and he nodded understandingly, looking at her over his glasses. Appraising her, and listening to her, the love and concern embedded in his light blue eyes, (as always, when it came to his children).

"I just want more potions." she moaned, throwing her head into her arms, and laying her face and arms across the table in desperation. She turned her head to her father, tears streaming down her right cheek. Arthur smiled, and squeezed her outstretched hand.

"How much potion have you had?"

"A lot." arthur looked her, not to sternly, but concerned again.

"You can't take to much, Gin...you can take more in a few hours." Ginny sighed and buried her head deep in the little hole she'd made with her arms. Arthur chuckled and pulled her arms out from under her playfully, trying to get her up, but to his surprise, she was already fast asleep. He smiled and stood, working on cleaning the few dishes Molly hadn't had enough energy to clean as his daughter slept. He hummed quietly to himself until he heard his daughter stirring, he turned to her but she was already standing, taking all of her strength she had left to run to the bathroom. Molly had mentioned something about her puking, he then recalled. He sighed, feeling horrible that the first moment of the day she had found sleep, her cold had again found her, the nausea breaking through her dreams of not feeling so horrid. Arthur walked into the bathroom, she hadn't bothered to close the door, and he found her in the fetal position near the toilet, sobbing, with a towel held to her mouth. She wiped at it and threw the towel up on the counter, trying and failing to stand. She opened her eyes; mere slits.

"Dad.." she moaned, her head resting on the side tile of the counter. He smiled warmly and took her hand, kneeling beside her. He felt her head instinctively and found it to be quite a bit warmer than it should be...not to his surprise. He scopped her up in his strong, rightfully warm arms, and she looked up at him, resting her head and trying to no avail to smile.

"Dad," she asked, still out of it from sleeping then waking to puke. "Where are you taking me?" He smirked and kissed her forehead, amazed that she was 14 and he could still have the chance to take care of her. He knew that was a lot of the time, Molly's job, and he relished in the fact it was his turn...He knew he might not have this chance again for awhile..the quality time...and taking care of his child. Between work, and worry, so he loked down on her, and held his lips to her forehead, then cheek. He whispered into her red ear, "I'm taking my Princess to her Chamber."


End file.

Harry Potter