|A little bit late...OOPSY...BAD mod.
||[Jul. 26th, 2004|08:53 am]
|||||The Goodbye Girl- Hootie and the Blowfish||]|
Pairings/Characters: James/Sirius, Remus, Peter
Summary: James has the flu, and everyone abandons him...or did everyone?
Author's Notes: I just now got around to posting this. Oops. *face palms*.
The room was bustling with commotion, filled with loud talking and laughter, clothes and junk flying everywhere, as everyone got dressed and ready to head into Hogsmeade for the day. Everyone that is, except for James. He observed the activity from his bed, surrounded by a sea of used tissues and candy wrappers, watery eyes following his friends as they pulled on their parkas, hats, and scarves, preparing to plunge out into the snow with the other students to make the trek into the town.
Coughing loudly, the ailing boy pulled another tissue from the box, feeling rather sorry for himself. He’d been stricken with the flu just two days before, and on strict orders from Pomfrey, had to stay in bed. No exceptions. This meant no marauding, no meals in the Great Hall with everyone else, and now no Honeydukes, butterbeer, or snowball fights.
“You’ll bring me back some Pepper Imps, right,” James asked, sniffling and wheezing, feeling another fit of sneezing coming on. To prevent it, he quickly covered his nose, blinking heavily. Merlin, did he ever feel horrible.
Remus was the first to look up, nodding sympathetically. He did feel pretty bad for his mate, considering that he’d be the only sixth year left behind, not to mention the fact that even if he had wanted to go mingle with the second years, he couldn’t. He was completely, and totally, bedridden. “Sure thing, mate. Anything else you fancy?”
James just shook his head, unearthing a thermometer from the attractive pile of garbage littering his comforter, sticking it beneath his tongue. With any hope, his temperature had gone down. Pomfrey had informed him, that if by some miracle it fell from 100 to normal in a matter of a mere two hours, he could most certainly go on the trip.
He was out of luck though, because when he pulled it out to read a few minutes later, the mercury had topped out at 102.3.
When he looked up again, his friends were staring at him, having gathered around the foot of the bed to bid him farewell. “You look better,” Peter piped up, trying to look cheerful. Remus shot the smaller boy a ‘look’, shaking his head.
“Are you being serious, Peter? Look at him! He looks like death on a cracker! No offense, James,” he said quickly, biting his lip. “We should probably get going, but if you see Sirius, tell him we headed on out. He left half an hour ago, and said he’d be back, but, you know him. Who knows where he went.
With a few last long looks, the pair of them departed with promises of butterbeer and candy, and were followed soon after by the rest of their dorm mates.
Silence fell over the room, and all was quiet, sans the sneezing, wheezing, and coughing coming from James’s bed. He was just about to doze off into a wonderfully fever induced sleep, when the door creaked open, and someone tiptoed in, throwing their shadow over his bed.
“You know Prongs,” Sirius said, shutting the door with his foot, a loaded lunch tray teetering precariously in his arms, “you look like hell mate.”
The tired, ailing, boy’s eyes shot open at the sound of the familiar voice, his brow furrowing in confusion when he saw that, no, it was not that sickness causing him to hallucinate. “Sirius? What the bloody hell are you doing here? You should be in Hogsmeade, visiting the joke shop and copping a feel behind the Shrieking Shack! Remus and Peter said you left half an hour ago!”
Sirius shrugged, sitting the tray down on the desk, slipping off his shoes and jacket. “Well, did you honestly think I’d be out playing in the snow, when my best mate is up here sneezing his head off? I don’t think so! What do you take me for, anyway? I left to wrangle you up some soup and Pepper Up Potion. Took me fifteen minutes just to convince Pomfrey I wasn’t going to do anything illegal with it.”
“You’re giving up Hogsmeade for me,” James asked with a small smile, scooting over in the bed and shoving some junk aside so Sirius could sit down, which he did. “Wow. Thanks mate, really. I just assumed you’d want to get out of here for awhile. Everyone else was in a hurry to flee the scene.”
Grabbing the bowl of chicken soup he’d brought off the desk, Sirius passed it to James, a smile on his own face. “Oh, trust me, you owe me big time for this. I’m thinking something major, like a blow job, or your first born child.”
James down a few spoonfuls of the deliciously hot liquid before replying, his throat already feeling much better and blissfully soothed. “Would you settle for an afternoon of exploding snap and light napping with your sick best friend?”
“Yeah, I suppose that’ll do,” Sirius said, settling back into the pillows, “after all, I sort of like the guy…”