Title: You Make Me Sick
Prompt: Insides
Word Count: 830
Rating: K+ (Warning: GROSS BARFING)
Summary: Even witches catch the flu. And even the flu doesn't stop the Weasley boys from the sweet satisfaction of a good prank.
Chronology: 1992, September; fourth year
Author's Notes: After that last chapter, it's nice to write something silly again. Looking over the sweets at Wizarding World today made me think of this – and how Fred and George could even use the most delicious thing against their prey (for lack of a better term…) Enjoy!
Every young witch at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was living a life that muggles could only dream of. Even without the addition of magical abilities beyond most folks' imagination, Hogwarts was an exceptional school. The classes were actually interesting, with professors passionate and well-versed about their subjects; the meals served in the Grand Hall were fit for royalty, certainly much better than the slop in muggle public schools; they even had a team for all four houses in Quidditch, the thrilling sport that muggles couldn't experience at all! It was a place of dreams, and even with the uppity Slytherin or shy Ravenclaw here and there, it was quite rare to not see smiling faces at Hogwarts.
…but today was different for Salamandra Brooks. Today she was missing all of her classes, her exquisite breakfast of fruit-filled crepes and pumpkin juice was vomited that morning, and she was missing the Quidditch game. Quite normally, the latter fact wouldn't be so deeply devastating to Sally, spare the fact that she had made a deal with Fred and George Weasley earlier in the week to show up and cheer for them as loudly as she could manage. In return, they would call a treaty from their pranks with her as the target for a month. A whole month free of Weasley pranks and she had to go and catch the flu!
Quarantined in the hospital wing, Salamandra had been crumpled up in bed for a day and a half already after Madam Pomfrey prescribed "lots of bed-rest," only departing from her sweat-ridden sheets to use the bathroom and regurgitate whatever food Ashton and Yvette were kind enough to bring her from the Great Hall's meal time. Why was it in a school of magic, not one witch or wizard could wand-waggle her into perfect health again? What a way to start her fourth year; only a month into classes and already she was bed-ridden! …but there was a bright side: she was able to skip out on that History of Magic test she'd been dreading.
It was about the same time that the big Quidditch game was due to start when Salamandra faded into a nap. Perhaps it was because she had them on the mind in breaking her promise, but she dreamed of the Weasley twins – and her family. Her mother was making that green swill that tasted like grass and insect spray but always seemed to cure her of anything that ailed her while Fred and George were sitting on her bed and joking about the grotesque scent of it.
"It smells like Hagrid's toenail clippings!" Fred exclaimed, pinching his nose.
"Worse than Hagrid's toenails – it smells like Snape's earwax!" George shuddered, attempting to one-up his twin.
"No, no – even worse than Snape's earwax, it smells like Snape's hair wax!"
The joke was on them: Salamandra's cheerfully oblivious mother served them some of the so-called 'soup' as well and even in her dream, they didn't have it in their hearts to refuse a mother's cooking. Nice boys.
By the time she woke up, the daylight had disappeared and Salamandra was greeted by the refreshing breeze of cool evening air. The horizon was still faintly painted orange in the square of window she could see from her angle, compelling her to sit up. But something in the corner of her eye caught her attention: a small package and a letter set atop it. A curious smirk tugging at her lips, she plucked up the letter and left the package in her lap.
Sally:
You missed a good game! We won, of course.
Alicia told us you're sick so we won't hold you accountable for not holding up your end of the deal. In fact, we thought we'd take the liberty of getting you a little something to lift your spirits!
Feel better!
Fred & George
Judging by the signatures, it was all in Fred's handwriting, an observation that caused tawny brows to rise. It was a very thoughtful gesture and she briefly considered if the fever in her cheeks was just that or if the fact that Fred and George Weasley went out of their way to get her something when she was sick. Gingerly folding the paper back into its envelope, she set it back where she found it on her end table and moved on to the small package. Even if it wasn't entirely intentional, the ribbon's red hue matched her favorite color, and when she was opening the petite box she figured out it was a pastry box. Inside was a cauldron cake, base freshly dipped in a luster of chocolate and mousse tantalizingly oozing out from its core.
Salamandra's stomach roared at her to get that thing out of her sight. Barely having time to stuff the box back shut and drape quickly over the side of the bed, her insides spilled into the trash bin.
Oh, those boys were just cruel.