The cure for the hiccoughs goes by the name of 'James Potter'

I am feeling very frustrated, annoyed so much it hurts to breathe. I've tried to hold my breath, I've had two glasses of water I've even tried to stand on my head. But the annoyance is not going away.

I swear these hiccoughs are going to be the death of me. And now my wrist is sore from when I fell over from standing on my head. I'm just going to lie here in the middle of the common room and count the patterned red squares on the ceiling.

One – hic – two, three – hic – four, five, six, seven… hey I think they're – hic – grr.

With a sigh (and a hiccough) I sit up and scrutinise my homework I am supposed to be doing. You can see when I got the hiccoughs – mid way through the page where my writing was interrupted and blotchy from where I shook from the hiccoughs. There's no point going back to writing, I'd make it worse.

I pack up my homework and settle with a book and try to focus on it, but my hiccoughs are now louder than ever and my lungs are really aching with the force of it all.

I throw the book down in my annoyance and glance about me angrily for someone to take my frustration on – preferably Potter, who I swear was sitting opposite me before, laughing at my standing-on-my-head antics. But now there is no one there – strange, I was so wrapped up in my hiccoughs I didn't see everyone leave.

It's so deadly quiet I can hear my hiccoughs echoing back to me off the wall. Something's going on and I'm freaking out.

BANG

I never really understood the phrase 'jumped out of his/her skin' until now. I screamed with fright and, while still airbourne, plunged my hand into my robes to grab my wand and turned faster than lightning, ready to curse my attacker.

I hesitated, however, as I came face to face with a grinning James Potter holding a pin in one hand and what looked like a shredded balloon in the other.

'What the hell was that for?!' I shrieked at him, my heart still racing, 'Here I am, minding my own business, just trying to rid myself of my hiccoughs…'

'What hiccoughs?' James interrupted, widened grin still on his face. And with that, he winked and disappeared up the boy's staircase leaving me to work out what the hell just happened.

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A little story inspired by my hiccoughs – which are now gone! Hooray!

I am going to finish the story I started a while ago – the next instalment is on my other computer

I don't own Lily or James ):