"Hullo, love of my life." He stands -- carefully -- and lets his arm rest around her. He's been doing an awful lot of thinking, and he's tired of doing it alone. "It feels good to be out of that bed. I think I decided that if I let myself feel ill, I'll be ill and that's not a state of mind I care to be in, Fleur. So here I am, and I feel better already."

His fingers tangle in her long silvery hair. "And you? You've been such an angel. You've not left my side for more than a few minutes. Are you all right?"

Part of him is convinced that no matter what, he needs to be the one caring for her, not the other way round. Silly as it seems, it makes a difference to him. He wants to be the one to provide for her.

He whispers into her ear. "No one's been notified, have they?"