Sick as a Dog
By Werepup of Lupin
Disclaimer: I own no one. Hell the idea is barely mine it's more of a
horrible inside joke.
This is dedicated to my "Nursemaid" Belegorath. Get Better Soon or I will
sic Captain of the Sugar Cookie Express and his merry band of freaks on
you.
Here was an Oxymoron if Lily Evans had ever seen one. Sirius Black, fresh from a two-day jaunt in bed from a nasty 'bout of the flu was forcing substantial amounts of steak and kidney pie down Remus Lupin's throat, and yet not eating a bite himself. It was a week after the full moon and, per usual, Remus looked considerably pale not to mention very sick. Upon seeing his friend like this, Sirius (who was quite pale and scrawny himself), dived headfirst into mother hen mode, clucking and all. Even before Remus had sat down, Sirius had begun to dole out large heaps of the meaty pie onto his plate. Deaf to Remus' protests of a weak stomach, Sirius began to pile forkful, after forkful into his friend's mouth. James, who was sitting across from Remus and his beloved nursemaid, watched as the werewolf suppressed a gag before another helping of steamed vegetables was forced down his unwilling gullet. "Sirius," said James placing his hand between Remus' bulging cheeks and the precariously full fork of mashed peas, "if Remus isn't hungry don't make him eat, else he'll be sick. Eat something yourself, you great mothering dog." "Not hungry," Sirius replied with a grunt of indignation, "Open up wider Remus, Bloody Hell!" "Fine then," replied James, every bit as indignant as he watch Remus turn, if at all possible, greener, "if you won't eat then neither will I." "Wish I could do that," said Remus pointedly around another mouthful. "Eat." Sirius demanded, the turning his attention to James, "Don't be a twat you need your strength for Quidditch practice." "This coming from Gryffindor's star beater." Remus said getting his two cents in. "Lupin, when I want you to stop eating and talk, I'll tell you." Sirius reprimanded, shoving a buttered roll down Remus' esophagus. Lily sighed, if only this were the end of it. She had a feeling that this was only the very beginning.
Here was an Oxymoron if Lily Evans had ever seen one. Sirius Black, fresh from a two-day jaunt in bed from a nasty 'bout of the flu was forcing substantial amounts of steak and kidney pie down Remus Lupin's throat, and yet not eating a bite himself. It was a week after the full moon and, per usual, Remus looked considerably pale not to mention very sick. Upon seeing his friend like this, Sirius (who was quite pale and scrawny himself), dived headfirst into mother hen mode, clucking and all. Even before Remus had sat down, Sirius had begun to dole out large heaps of the meaty pie onto his plate. Deaf to Remus' protests of a weak stomach, Sirius began to pile forkful, after forkful into his friend's mouth. James, who was sitting across from Remus and his beloved nursemaid, watched as the werewolf suppressed a gag before another helping of steamed vegetables was forced down his unwilling gullet. "Sirius," said James placing his hand between Remus' bulging cheeks and the precariously full fork of mashed peas, "if Remus isn't hungry don't make him eat, else he'll be sick. Eat something yourself, you great mothering dog." "Not hungry," Sirius replied with a grunt of indignation, "Open up wider Remus, Bloody Hell!" "Fine then," replied James, every bit as indignant as he watch Remus turn, if at all possible, greener, "if you won't eat then neither will I." "Wish I could do that," said Remus pointedly around another mouthful. "Eat." Sirius demanded, the turning his attention to James, "Don't be a twat you need your strength for Quidditch practice." "This coming from Gryffindor's star beater." Remus said getting his two cents in. "Lupin, when I want you to stop eating and talk, I'll tell you." Sirius reprimanded, shoving a buttered roll down Remus' esophagus. Lily sighed, if only this were the end of it. She had a feeling that this was only the very beginning.