The Marauders: Year Three | #Wattys2016

James's Good Dream

James's Good Dream

"Busted broom, busted knee... and for what? Not even a bloody House Cup!" James had not stopped complaining yet. Sirius sat on the stool beside the bed in the hospital wing, Peter laid across the foot of it, and Remus was perched in the wide sill of the window to the right side. James sat in the bed itself, his leg being repaired by the horrible tasting skele-gro. "I didn't even get a bloody kiss!" he said, shaking his head, "I got ripped off, mates."

"You certainly did," agreed Sirius without looking up. He was writing what looked like an essay on a bit of parchment.

"Practically a felony," Peter said, flipping a page in the book he was reading.

"Throw the little ginger behind bars," Remus added, biting his tongue and studying the drawing he was working on.

James looked around at them. "You lot suck as friends," he announced.

Sirius looked up, "Is it our fault that you've had the same complaint for the last six hours, Potter? We've literally had this conversation two or three times an hour since we all came up here!"

James crossed his arms over his chest.

Sirius grinned and patted his shoulder, "It's alright, mate, maybe you hit your head a wee bit harder than you think and your memory's been impaired."

"You know a goldfish only has a memory span of three seconds?" Remus said.

"I did not know that," Peter said, looking up, interested, "I had a goldfish when I was wee; I named him Peter because I thought everyone was named Peter when I was little."

Sirius stared at him for a moment, then shook his head, as though to forget he'd said it.

Pomfrey came out of the little area by her desk then, wiping her hands on her apron, "Alright you lot, it's time to clear out. Mr. Potter has got a good deal of healing to do and he's not going to be able to do it if you're keeping him up half the night talking nonsense. Pip, pip! It's bed time. And you - get down off that window, you naughty boy."

"Sorry Madam Pomfrey," Remus jumped down out of the window sill.

"Bye James," Sirius called, waving as the three of them headed for the door. He glanced at Pomfrey to be sure her back was turned and mouthed We'll Be Back and they ducked out the door.

James waved.

"Ready for another dose of the skele-gro, then?" Madam Pomfrey asked, pouring the bone-white bottle into a spoon without waiting for him to confirm. She stuck the spoonful of awful tasting potion into James's mouth and made sure he swallowed it all.

He made a face, "UGH. That stuff is terrible!" He complained, sticking his tongue out so that it scraped across the edge of his teeth, trying to rake off the putrid taste.

"But it does the trick!" Pomfrey said and she waved her wand, closing the shutters on the windows. "Now it's time for some sleep..." she reached in her pocket and withdrew a small blue vial. "Here we are. A potion for good dreams." Gently, she poured the little vial off into James's lips and the effect was almost instant, he breathed deeply, barely feeling the wrenching pain in his knee as the cap reformed itself beneath his skin. "Sleep well, Mr. Potter," she whispered.

It was after the hour that everyone should've been in their dorms, but Lily Evans had a very important mission. She snuck down the hallway very carefully, determined to make it all the way to the hospital wing without being caught by Argus Filch or his cat, Mrs. Norris. Luck would have it that she didn't see either - or Peeves, who would've alerted the caretaker immediately of her presence. She pushed open the door to the hospital wing very carefully, peeking 'round the door to see if Pomfrey was up and about but it was quite dark and quiet in the ward, so she slipped inside and pushed the door shut behind her.