Dandelions

GOLDEN BOYS

"I'm going to hurl," Rory bent over, crossing his arms over the back of his neck as he stared at the floor through squinted eyes.

"Well, try to avoid this half of the room," Fred responded, huffing out a sigh, "I'm not vanishing anyone else's sick, that's for sure."

"Ugh," Lee only groaned his two cents, laying face down on his bed like a sunny side up corpse in a coffin.

"I don't remember Percy being so tired after his exams," George complained, flopping onto his bed once he'd taken his shoes off, "Then again that nerd probably had fun."

"I'm gonna to take a shower," Rory said shakily, head still reeling from taking his last examination, "At least then I can just wash the sick down the drain."

"Let's go to the quidditch pitch tomorrow," George suggested, "Best way to let off steam, y'know?"

"Ooh yeah," Fred agreed quickly.

Rory didn't hear any more as he left the dormitory, making his way down to the bathrooms. He didn't really want to, all their voices sounded way louder than usual--the sound kept bouncing around in his head even as he walked through the silent halls of Hogwarts.

Luckily, there weren't any other boys in the bathroom yet, and Rory was able to find his favorite shower stall. Furthest down on the second row sat the cleanest stall in the entire bathroom, and it had quickly become his go-to when he needed a good, refreshing shower.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath as he stepped into the scalding water that furiously rushed out of the enchanted plumbing. It burned as it ran down his back, but in a way that felt good--like he needed it. The sensation was similar to finally scratching an itch that'd been plaguing him all day, rolling all down his back.

His stomach was still bothering him, but it almost felt tolerable in the hot steam of the shower stall, like the moisture he breathed in spread throughout his body in a soothing stream. Then again, even as he lathered up his body with soap, his hands were jittery and shaky from the adrenaline of taking his tests and performing his practicals.

It was nerve-wracking, sitting right in front of his professors and performing tasks that he'd been learning all year how to do, or having them stare him down as he nervously answered questions with quill and paper. He must've marked out over a million misspelled words while he was writing the essays and filling in free-response questions.

The shower had failed, Rory was somehow even more stressed despite his body feeling soothed after the searing water washed all the sweat from his skin. He was left feeling refreshed but anxious, and his brain raced for ways he could soothe himself once he got back to the dorm--but the thought of the other boys had him scowling in frustration. They'd surely still be up, talking--and it's not like he could get angry with them for enjoying their halves of the space.

Rory was being a stick in the mud, and that realization just made him feel worse.

There was nothing Rory wanted more desperately than a good night's sleep to put his mind to rest, but even that was apparently too much to ask for. After somehow managing to fall asleep among all the noise, he woke up in the morning at a bleary-eyed six, sitting up and staring at the wall furiously as he realized even his body was working against him.

All he could do was flip through a quidditch book absentmindedly until the twins and Lee woke up, so he could go launch a hacky sack around the field--maybe even a couple rocks if he was lucky. Something clearly needed to give for him to be able to let go of this unquenchable irritation.

"Fuck are you doing awake?"

Rory turned his head slightly to see George still laying in the same position, eyes barely opened as he stared groggily at him. His arm was tossed over the side of the mattress as usual, face smushed into his pillow and scrunching his face up. It was a sight that made Rory's chest tighten for some reason, and he felt like he couldn't get a good, deep breath no matter how hard he tried.