Sick Day

Battle of the Wills

     James still had no idea how he made it as far as he did. Lily had offered to get him an extra cup of coffee (the three cups having been consumed pre and post Quidditch) but the thought of it turned his stomach, so he was left to struggle through Transfiguration in a state of quasi-consciousness, being nudged awake every so often by Lily or a Marauder. The lights in each room seemed far too bright to foster concentration, and every noise, the squeaking of chalk on the board or the whisper of students across the room reverberated in his head like it was an echo chamber. 

     When he and Lily had come back from the library, they sat through the remaining five minutes of History of Magic in the back of the class. When it was done, his ears were assaulted by Sirius's cries of "He's alive!" and, following a Transfiguration class in which Lily continued to shot worried glances in his direction, was bombarded by the Great Hall.

     The cacophony of people: whispering, shouting, laughing, dishes clanging, and the general sound of movement hit him like a wall of bricks. The din was overwhelming. When they'd entered, he'd been walking by himself, but mere minutes later, after excusing himself quickly, needed Lily's assistance to remain upright on the wait out, something that was not missed by the rest of his friends. 

     No sooner than they'd settled down in a dark, quiet classroom, the doors flew open with bang that made him grimace. "Out with it!" Sirius hollered, "Evans, did you break him?"

     "I'd like to know what that was too," Remus added, albeit not as loudly, but quite loud enough for James' taste at the moment.

      "Quiet down!" Lily hissed, "The both of you!" and, as an after thought, "And turn off those lights. The three of you are idiots! I mean really!" James groaned and doubled over, pressing his head between his knees. 

     "Oi mate, those Slytherins get to you too?" Sirius plopped down next to his friend. "At this rate we'll have no team left to play." 

     "I think," Lily put in, "He did this one to himself." At another whimper from James, she brought her hand up to rub the back of his neck, James sighing in relief, but stopped when she felt the heat radiating off his body. To his protests, her hand slipped from his neck up to his forehead. He was burning up. "James, I don't think you should go to Potions. You're obviously not well and-"

     "I'm not sick. It's just a headache. Really, I'm fine." His eyes shot up. "I'm going to class and the prefects meeting. There's too much going on for me to be sick." He panicked, "I'm not sick." He looked at the marauders imploringly, begging them to disagree with her. The three fell uncomfortably silent.

     Lily crossed her arms and stared at him sternly, "If you're not sick, then I suppose you don't need my help getting up or getting to class then. We're going." And with that she stood, flicked the lights of the classroom back on and strode out the room, pausing at the door. "You coming?"

    James shot her a dirty look and, trying to ignore the bright lights and the way the world seemed to be spinning, stood up, only to be hit with a wave of dizziness that left him leaning against a wall. He slid back to the ground, head in his hands. "Wait!" He called weakly. Lily raised her eyebrows at him. "I . . . may need help," he admitted. 

    "And . . ." she prompted.

    "And?"

    "I want to hear you say it."

     "And I . . . may be sick."

     "May be?" She looked at him skeptically.

       "I," James hesitated. "I am sick."

        "Okay." She turned the lights back off with a flick of her wand and crossed back to James, sliding her arm under him for support. The marauders watched this exchange wide-eyed. Peter had pulled out a notepad and started taking notes. No one could change James' mind when he had it set on something. "Tell Professor Slughorn I'm going to be a few minutes late." And with that, Lily and James trooped up to the Heads dormitory.

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      "Can you turn in my essay?" James asked as they entered their private common room.

      Lily laughed lightly, "I never thought I'd see the day when James Potter would be begging not to miss class. Where do you think you're going," she demanded. James had veered away from her and was trying to go in the opposite direction.

    "The couch . . ." He whimpered.

    "No. You're going to your bed. C'mon." Lily said firmly.

     "But the stairs. Lils, I don't wanna go up the stairs." Ignoring the use of her nickname, she followed his gaze to the spiral staircase that led to his room. She fought the urge to laugh at the look of apprehension on the boy's face.

    "Bed." She pulled him towards the stairs.

     "Heh, Lily Evans wants me in bed." James grinned, "Let me savor the moment." 

      She rolled her eyes. "I could leave you here." By now, they were halfway up the stairs. James' eyes widened.

      "But you won't. Right?" He looked rather nervous for the answer. 

      "No, I won't." She pushed open the door to his room and wrinkled her nose at the mess within. He stumbled toward the bed as she pulled out her wand to quickly neaten the space. "Now sleep. Alright?" She turned, having finished her work, but quickly saw she had nothing to worry about. The boy already fast asleep. She pulled the covers up over him, smiling to herself as he snuggled into them. She planted a quick kiss on his forehead before leaving the room.

"Feel better, James."