March 24th 7:25 pm

The sniveling bucked tooth Gryffindor had gotten him sick, Ashby just knew it. She had to go and faint on his lap. Normally, he wouldn’t mind a girl in his lap but not one that had been full of germs and he hadn’t gotten anything out of it. Instead, he was forced to walk the girl to the hospital wing. He didn’t bother going to class but instead made a straight trip to the prefects bathroom and took a very hot shower and scrubbed every bit of skin. Apparently, it hadn’t been enough. He started feeling tired after a couple of days after their walk. Then came the itchy eyes which he could have blamed on pollen if anything was actually in bloom and not under 8 feet of snow. Then came the tickling in throat which led to the cough. There had been enough announcements about the sickness going around that Ashby knew enough to get to the hospital wing.

Merlin but he hated the hospital wing. The mere smell of one caused his stomach to roll. It brought back memories of recovering from the accident as a little kid. He had always been a surly patient when particular quidditch injuries had forced him to spend time overnight. He was already scowling when he knocked on the door. He didn’t even bother to assume a neutral expression around the healer. Unlike the other adults, he could give two knuts what the woman thought of him. She led him to one of the cots and as he passed Jess, he caught her eye. He sent her a glare that should have told someone as stupid as her that this was all her fault.

“This better not last long,” he grumbled to the person next to him as he sat down on the cot. He crossed his arms and scowled as if the sickness would somehow be frightened off if it knew how very annoyed he was by it.

"Help?" was the girl's reply. It was Lizzie. It was a wonder he could underdstand her, not due to the whispered raspyness of her voice but she could barely speak the Queen's English with her thick accent. He looked around but Pomfrey had gotten sidetracked. Of course she had. Ashby glanced at the girl again and sighed before coughing into his hand. He reluctantly got up from the cot and stood by the nighttable. He poured a cup of water from the nearby pitcher. 

"Can you hold it?" he asked, his voice clipped and impatient. There was no way that he was going to listen to her whining next to him if he could help it. Water was the only thing that he could do. 

Pomfrey came back with the poultice in one hand and a dragon bone needle in the other.

“You are not going to stick me with that,” he announced eyeing the needle. He did care how rotten he was feeling, he didn't need to be poked. "If you must annoy someone, tend to her," he announced as he nodded down to Lizzie. 


Last Edited By: sereneLuna Mar 30 16 2:26 PM. Edited 4 times.