Sick Day

The Muggle Way and Its Benefits . . .

     Thud! 

    James 's eyes snapped open. He was still on the couch where he and Lily must have fallen asleep the night before. The moon shone through the window. His eyes searched the room, seeking out the sound that had woken him. The source of the offending noise, Lily's book, which had been hanging precariously by her fingertips, now on the floor. Lily herself was curled up on the other end of the couch, still fast asleep. He took a moment to appreciate the adorable way she breathed when she was asleep. She breathed in deeply and would exhale with a little puff of air out her nose followed by a little sigh in the back of her throat. It was almost a snore, though never one he would complain about, and his lip twitched at the thought. Lily Evans snores. 

     It was only after this realization that another one came to pass. He felt absolutely, positively awful. The pounding in his head had returned with a derisive fury accompanied by achy limbs and god awful chills. Gritting his teeth, he swung his legs off the couch and stumbled over the chest where they kept the blankets. Rifling through it, he selected a particularly thick one which golden snitches on it. A wave of nausea swept over him, and he doubled over, leaning on the wooden chest, waiting for it to pass. When finally subsided, he made his way back to couch, and deciding sleep was a unattainable ambition, reached for the book that had fallen to the floor. He found that, though it was a bit of a slow moving plot, he liked the novel quite a lot. It was reassuring, in a way. Contented. It was almost humbling, reading through and realizing just how small you are. He was contemplating how he'd never had any desire to see America before he'd cracked open the book when Lily bolted awake, fear painted across her features. 

     Her breathes came in short, quick gasps, her eyes darting around the room, finally landing on his face. She visibly relaxed at the sight of him. He held out arm, making room for her next to him, and, to his surprise, she scooted over, burying her face in his chest. She was trembling.

     "Bad dream?" he asked softly. She nodded, but didn't say anything more. "Okay." Lily closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. She didn't remember the dream and was rather glad she didn't. Whatever it was had been infused with helplessness and anguish. But as she sat there, she shivered at the feeling of inevitability that swept over her. 

    She glanced up at James, concern in his eyes. "I'm alright. I promise. I'm alright," she whispered. She realized the arms that encircled her were still rather feverish. She pulled away, examining his face. "You should be more worried about yourself. Feeling any better?" He grimaced. "I'll take that as a no, then. Worse?"

   He avoided her gaze, and said, "I s'pose it makes sense. I'd say the pepper-up was rejected." He gave a dry laugh and slumped into the pillows. "I think I'll be having Frank and Alice run tomorrow's practice." 

      "I think you mean, today's practice," Lily poked the watch on his wrist. It was nearing two am. "Why aren't you asleep?"

   "Bloody hell. I'm in pain, Evans. It's somewhat distracting. If I could be sleeping, I would be." Lily winced in sympathy.

    "You wanna try another dose of pepper-up?"

    "I'd rather not give myself something to throw up. Besides it's a Saturday. Discounting quidditch, I don't really have to be anywhere. I can sleep during the day, or something."

     "So . . . the muggle way it is?" Lily sat back.

     "I s'pose so." He pushed himself up on the couch, pulling his blanket around his shoulders in a way that made him wince."I hate the muggle way."

    "C'mere." Lily pulled him gently off the couch and onto the ground in front of her. She worked her fingers up his back, slowly working on the knots, feeling them start to unwind under her touch.