Assignment 12, Potions, task 1: Write about someone feeling under the weather.

Hot Air Balloon: "Why does it hurt so much?"

Disney, Pabble: Write about a healer.

Showtime, Price and Son Theme / The Most Beautiful Thing in the World: Charlie Weasley

Lo's Lowdown, Leonard McCoy: healer

Word Count: 452


Charlie groans as another cough rumbles through his chest. Breathing causes his whole body to ache; between his raw, tender throat and the strain in his chest, he is miserable and cannot get comfortable at all.

"Why does it hurt so much?" he asks, his voice raspy from the constant strain.

Draco rolls his eyes, carefully setting the steaming bowl of soup on the bedside table next to Charlie's water. "Because someone was stubborn and insisted they didn't need treatment the moment they showed flu symptoms," he says flatly, pressing the back of his hand to Charlie's sweat-slick forehead. "Maybe next time you'll listen to me, Weasley."

"You love being able to say 'I told you so', don't you, Malfoy?" Charlie counters.

The blond snorts and pulls his hand away before rummaging through his cloak pocket. After a moment, he pulls out a vial that Charlie recognizes instantly. Over the past few days, he's had to drink his fair share or Pepper-Up Potion, and he hates it.

"Open," Draco says.

"No."

The younger wizard exhales, his nostrils flaring. He sucks in a deep breath before offering Charlie an obviously forced smile. "Don't you dare make me beg."

Charlie grins, but it makes his face hurt. "I like it when you beg."

"Tease," Draco accuses. "Behave."

"Never," Charlie chuckles, but he obediently opens his mouth and allows Draco to press the vial against his lips.

The potion is just as atrocious as it had been the day before. Charlie gags slightly as what feels like pure fire spreads through his body. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve before sinking back into the pillows with a soft burp. "Shouldn't you be a the infirmary?" he asks, his brown eyes flickering to the clock. "You should have gone back to work today."

Draco leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Charlie's cheek. "I'm making a house call," he chuckles before retrieving the soup. "Your mum helped me make this. She said it works like a charm."

Charlie eyes the golden broth with raised brows as he forces himself back into a sitting position. Though it's a sweet gesture, he can't help but to be hesitant. Draco isn't exactly known for his cooking skills. "Is my kitchen still intact?"

His boyfriend scowls. "I caught the stove on fire like six times, and suddenly it's expected," he grumbles.

"Six fires in the six attempts you've made at cooking."

"Eat your soup and hush," Draco says sternly, though his icy blue eyes twinkle with amusement. "Healer's orders."

With the smallest of smiles, Charlie spoons the warm broth into his mouth. Being sick isn't any fun, but at least Charlie has his favorite Healer to care for him.