❝ Why can't we be more than friends, Draco?
-Why can't we be more than friends? Merlin Astoria, figure it out. I am fucking social pariah. Your friends, your family, your fucking parents who adore you, would never approve. ❞
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
A S T O R I A G R E E N G R A S S crossed the clean marble floor of St. Mungos, a grin lifting the corners of her lips as her best friend, Amelia Mostafa, complained about the wizard that was convinced he had been poisoned with Chelidonium Miniscula, despite her reassurances that Chelidonium Miniscula was in fact a beneficiary potion.
"He was complaining that he had a fever and was beginning to lose feeling in his toes," Amelia laughed, her hand lifting to wave at a few fellow Trainee Healers as the pair walked through the third floor, heading towards the lift. "We have a word for that in the muggle world, hypochondriac, which means that someone is so convinced of their maladies that they actually gave themselves those symptoms."
Astoria giggled alongside her friend, shaking some of her hair away from her face so she could properly look at her friend. "Is he okay now?"
"Oh sure, he's fine—if you think refusing to move your toes to prove a point is fine!"
Astoria raised her brow, "Oh— is he?"
Amelia rolled her eyes. "I hit his toes with a spell and they certainly reacted, so he's just being stubborn now."
"How did he even get his hands on Chelidonium Miniscula? It's rather rare," Astoria replied with a grin.
"You'd know all about that Miss. Potions Master!" Amelia exclaimed. "Not sure. Said he was looking for Pepperup potion and mistook the bottles."
Astoria snorted with laughter, garnering her a few annoyed glances cast her way. "No way he mistook the bottles, they're kept in completely separate conditions. He has to be lying, not sure why though..."
A worker smiled at Astoria and Amelia amicably, opening the lift doors for the pair.
"Whatever it is, I'm just glad he was handed off to the Head Healer!" Amelia said as they stepped onto the lift, cranking the lift controller for the fourth floor. "What have you got lined up for the remainder of the day?"
Astoria flipped through her clipboard, where scribbles were magically appearing as her supervisor sent them to her. "Oh! What a surprise. Looks like good 'ol Lockhart is requesting to see me again, wants to know if—" Astoria squinted at the clipboard in disbelief, "—if I think his hair would look better if he dyed it dark brown like my own!"
It was Amelia's turn to double down with laughter as she giggled at her tall friend. "You've got to be bloody joking! That old tosspot wants to dye his hair? Not sure if hair dye would be able to cover up the fact that he's bat-shit crazy."
Astoria sent her friend a warning glance. "Hey! He's not that crazy..."
Amelia ignored Astoria's words as the doors opened to the fourth floor, where those who have suffered from spell damage, jinxes, blood curses, and long term residents were served.
