Anatomy and Physiology task 1: Write about someone taking measures to avoid getting sick

Word Count: 986


Remus wrinkles his nose when he enters the dormitory. "What on earth are you doing, James? It smells disgusting."

In retrospect, maybe this isn't the best place to try out Frank's home remedy. He isn't the only person that sleeps here. Still, all James can is offer Remus an apologetic smile. "Newt bladder, mint leaves, and powdered porcupine quill," he says, as though it should be obvious.

"Why?"

James clears his throat, cheeks burning. Suddenly, he realizes exactly how ridiculous this is. "There's a tickle in my throat," he admits.

Remus raises his brows, seemingly still confused. James sighs and shakes his head. Given the fact that it's cold and flu season, a tickle in his throat shouldn't be enough to make James worry, but, for him, it's a tragedy. It doesn't matter that he's gone three years without so much as a sniffle. No, this horrible hint of an oncoming illness has started two days before he's supposed to go out on a date with Lily.

"I can't get sick," James says, poking his finger against the thin layer of sticky grossness under his his chin. "Life is cruel, but I will be damned if I let this ruin my plans!"

"Why don't you just pay Madam Pomfrey a visit?" Remus suggests patiently. "Her potions don't smell quiet so rancid."

James snorts and adjusts his glasses. "Right. Well, we'll see what's so rancid when I'm out with Lily on Saturday!"

Remus raises his brows, thin lips quirking as though he wants to smile. "That… made no sense whatsoever, mate."

Frank's remedy turns out to be a bust. By the next morning, James' throat has gotten worse. Instead of an annoying tickle, it now feels as though he's swallowed hundreds of needles and glass shards.

"Maybe you should go to the hospital wing," Remus says as he adjusts the knot in his tie.

"Don't be ridiculous, Moony," Sirius insists. "He doesn't need a potion to cure him."

James feels the faintest hint of relief flutter through his body. He grins. "See? Sirius knows."

Sirius waves a hand at him, feigning modesty. "Hush, James. You're going to make me blush," he says with a giggle for effect. "Soak your socks in three egg yolks for twenty minutes, then wear them for the rest of the day. The yolk will be absorbed by your feet, and it will carry the illness away."

It makes sense, really. James hasn't paid much attention in Potions, but he vaguely remembers using eggs a few times. Maybe those had been for some sort of remedies; he honestly can't remember. Still, he rushes towards his best friend and pulls Sirius in, hugging him tightly. "You are a bloody genius!" he says.

Remus frowns and shakes his head, his tawny hair whipping against his face with the movement. "That is completely unhygienic!" he protests. "James, please reconsider."

James releases Sirius and takes a step back. His hazel eyes rest upon his friend. "You worry too much. What could possibly go wrong?"

James is tired and disoriented when he opens his eyes. He sits up, but his body is too weak. Within seconds, he collapses again.

"You are a bloody idiot, Potter."

James squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. The room slowly comes into focus, and he recognizes the hospital wing at last. "What…?" He turns his head, and he can't help but to smile. "Hey, Evans."

She doesn't look too happy to see him. Her nostrils flare, and her cheeks are stained with a dull pink blush. James isn't an expert on women and their emotions, but he assumes he's done something wrong.

"Don't you 'Hey, Evans' me," she says, tugging at her auburn hair. "Yolks in your shoes? Really?"

James smiles weakly. He pushes a hand through his messy hair. "To be fair, the yolk was on my socks," he mutters.

"What the hell?"

"Sirius said it was supposed to keep me from getting sick!"

Maybe he shouldn't have listened to Sirius or Frank. In the back of his mind, he had suspected that those ideas had been ridiculous, but he had been desperate. The worst part is knowing he'll have to face Remus. At least Remus isn't the I told you so type.

"Good job," Lily says dryly. "Not only did you still end up with tonsillitis, but you also managed to contract a foodborne illness."

"I'm gonna murder Sirius…"

"What were you thinking?" she asks.

"I was thinking that I didn't want to get sick and miss our date. Guess I blew that," he says, sinking into the soft pillows. If only he could let them swallow him up. That seems a better fate than dying from embarrassment.

"Oh." Her tone is softer now, and James chances a glance. Lily's emerald eyes swim with concern, and she moves closer, gently taking his hand. "You really are an idiot, James."

He laughs, wincing at the strain on his throat. It's not as bad as it had been this morning. Whatever Madam Pomfrey has given him seems to be working. It's a small silver lining, but he'll take it.

"Yeah, well… That's part of my charm."

Lily chuckles and rests a hand on his shoulder. "I'm still going to Hogsmeade."

James deflates at that. He should have known it would happen. This isn't the most flattering situation; of course Lily would lose interest now. He really can't blame her, but that doesn't stop it from hurting.

"I'll bring you some sweets back," she says. "Maybe stop by the kitchens and get a picnic together."

"Why?"

"Because we have a date," she reminds him. "I'm not letting something like a little illness stop me from enjoying myself."

James smiles at that. He couldn't stop himself from getting sick, but it doesn't matter. In the end, he still has a chance with Lily. All things considered, it's more than worth it.