I think it's safe to say that I don't own HP or anything to do with HP from now on… we don't need to rub it in. As I write this I am actually suffering from quite the cold- "write what you know" right?
This particular story takes place when they're quite young, Rowena at 11 and Salazar at 16, so no naughty thoughts people ;)
His entire room was green; it reminded her of being trapped in a moss-ridden cave hidden in the depths of the lushest forests. It wasn't off putting, not at all actually. It was oddly comforting when she thought about it- after all when was there a time she ever saw her old friend not draped in the rich hue? The room was still quite dark with only a sliver of light streaming through the crack in the curtains but she knew the landscape of the room well enough to walk with her eyes closed.
A rustle from the sheets reminded her to quiet her breathing and her steps became softer as she navigated from the door to end of the bed ensuring she didn't disturb the organised mess of books, quills and vials of ingredients. She didn't want to get a tongue lashing from him for making a mess in his room- although looking at the state of the floor how would he be able to tell the difference between her mess and his mess?... Where was the floor?!
Rowena hastened her movements until she was looking directly at a rumpled cacophony of pillows and limbs that was peacefully rising up and down in tune to the soft snores. Taking a deep breath of her own she pushed down through her knees to the balls of her feet and propelled herself on top of the mass of bed coverings squealing with laughter.
"…. Urgh" was all the quilt said.
"Morning Mr Cranky Pants, sleeping in are we?" she giggled as she tore away at the pillows trying to find her dearest friend's face. He looked horrid.
"Good Lord Laz, what happened to you?" Sniffle. Cough. Splurt. Sniffle. Like really, really terrible looking.
"Don't tell me you're sick? You're never sick! You always cure yourself!" Splurt. Sniffle. Cough. Gag.
"Did you need to get a healer?" she sat back on her haunches allowing her friend some space to apparently hack out his lungs or lower intestine.
"… Urgh… nno" was all he did before cocooning himself again. Rowena never to be denied something she wanted managed to rip the covers away from him again. She let her eyes wander over him again, his skin was a sickly shade of pale- paler than she had ever seen on him. The skin around his eyes were tinged with blue and green a sure sign that the poor teen hadn't slept and spent most of his night coughing up or throwing up. Neither particularly dashing.
"Nnnoo don't bother. This is all my fault anyway. Was trying out a new potion to cure this cursed cold and I think I may had added too much Mandrake root… I don't know. My head hurts" he pulled wearily at his eyes attempting to force them to focus properly.
Rowena was taken aback. She'd never heard Salazar sound so utterly defeated and tired- the fact that he was slurring some of his words and constantly sniffling in what little air he could only added to the incredibly pathetic picture. It was adorable. All her life Salazar was untouchable and pristine, immaculately presented at all times with a sharp retort ready on the tip of his tongue. However seeing him in a bundle of quilts, still dressed in his pyjamas (with the collar tipping over one shoulder baring his very pointy collar bone, this boy needed a good feeding!) with his hair pointing in all directions and his nose red and dry from all the wiping and blowing made her want to gather him up in her arms and sing him soothing lullabies. Although knowing Salazar as she did she knew he'd find some sort of inhuman strength and physically kick her off the bed. That or he'd hex her. Yeah, he'd totally hex her.
"Ro, I'm sorry. I'm not well enough to entertain you or your family today. I'd rather not have to wipe off phlegm from your mother's face when I undoubtedly cough onto it" he uttered as he began to draw the covers back around him.
"Oh I don't know- I'm sure mother wouldn't mind. She adores you Laz and I'm sure she'd love to take care of you" she quipped smiling to herself at the thought of Laz getting a bath from her mother. His scowl growing deeper and his cheeks getting redder as her mother asked when the last time he had a haircut was and if he's regularly washing behind his ears.
"No Rowena. No. Don't ask your mother to do anything, or for heaven's sake your father either. I'll be fine I promise- just please let me rest and I'll be fine company for you tomorrow" he freed his arm from the blankets grip and shooed her away. As much as he was looking forward to seeing his young friend his exhaustion was catching up fast and that pitiful arm wiggle had spent up the last of his energy. He felt a soft pat on his hand as she lightly tugged the arm back down to rest against his hip, her delicate tiny fingers breathing some warmth into his body with her soft touch. The weight on his bed shifted and he could make out the sounds of her light footsteps move towards the door and the faint click of the door shutting. His eyelids started to feel as if centaurs themselves were dragging them down and who was he to deny the heavy-handed imaginary centaurs- in mere moments the Slytherin heir lulled into dreams.
00000
The aroma of something delicious and comforting was the first thing he noticed. The second was the cackle of wood in his fireplace and the third was the heat coming from it. The fourth was the cool beads of what he assumed was water dripping from his forehead and trickling down his hairline some even pooling in his ears. He opened his eyes as he tentatively touched the compress on his head inadvertently squeezing out more drops. He sat up and the let the soaked cloth fall harshly onto his lap with a soggy plop. He did feel better after his sleep a million times better in fact- his fever while still in place was markedly lower and his sinuses definitely more clear, the feeling of someone pushing down on his face with both hands had miraculously gone away.
Salazar surveyed his room with strengthened vigour.
Someone had changed his heavy quilts with a lighter blanket, someone had started a fire to make sure the room didn't get too cold, cleaned the floor of his illness driven mess that he had left there the night before and he assumed the same person had placed the cold compress on his head. It wasn't that he was ungrateful, no not at all, it was more unsettling for him that he was so sick he slept through it.
On his bedside table he saw a humble tray of steaming soup and a crust of fresh bread a teapot, some cups and what he believed was a water skin. Stretching out properly for the first time in a day he propped himself against the headboard for support and tried to reach for the water skin hoping someone was smart enough to have actually filled it with water. Just as the damned thing was within his grasp his bedroom door creaked open with a dishevelled Rowena pushing the door open with her elbow as she carried a large basin of water into the room. So focused was she to not spill any of said water onto the floor that she didn't bother looking up to see her patient sitting up with an expression of bewilderment strewn on his handsome face.
Salazar let her put the basin down on the ground before clearing his throat earning him a small squeak of surprise from the young girl. Pulling the clean cloths from her shoulder she dropped them on the foot of the bed and eagerly climbed atop beside him placing her hands on his forehead then his cheeks and neck to check his temperature. Her blossoming features etched with rapt concern for her oldest friend as she continued to fuss over him like a clucking mother hen. He couldn't help the fatigued grin that spread over his face- the little chit had spent the day looking after him, he was indeed very lucky to have such a friend in her. Most little noble girls would pout and throw fits when their host refused to entertain them; especially when they had travelled so far to no avail but not Rowena. Here was a child with a pure heart; much purer than his would ever dream to be- all messed up from a long days work. Her dark hair coming loose from its regal braid and the wavy strands somewhat matted to her face from perspiration. Her finery was hidden behind an old apron she must have borrowed from one of the servants with her sleeves pushed far beyond her elbows.
"Did… Did you do all of this by yourself Ro?" he rasped quietly, his throat was dry and his mouth parched. The girl nodded empathically and smiled shyly.
"Mother helped me make the soup though- I even killed the chicken myself" she smiled cheekily making Salazar's eyes bug out and cause him to begin coughing frenziedly.
"You what? Why didn't you get one of cooks to do that?" he managed as she softly patted him on the back to calm him.
"Oh relax. You speak as if my parents would allow me to run around your courtyard with a cleaver in hand"
"And you speak as if you couldn't manipulate them into believing that the ritual slaughtering of chickens by young maidens was for the good of mankind" she peered over her shoulder and shot him a look of disdain as she dipped her forgotten linens into the basin of water. "You're still not denying it Ro"
She wrung out the cloth and slapped it forcefully against his face.
"No. I guess I'm not denying it Laz" she smiled as she again positioned herself on the bed beside him, this time with the tray of food on her lap. She handed him the water skin to let him sate his thirst before slowly stirring the cooling soup. After several deep gulps of water he wiped the corner of his mouth on the back of his hand and looked over his friend once again.
"Ro- thank you. Sincerely this was a great kindness you have performed, however… why did you do this by hand? A wave of your wand and surely the tasks would have been done in less time and with less hassle" he brought the skin back to his lips to continue drinking while awaiting her answer. The young Ravenclaw smiled as she continued looking into the soup as she stirred almost looking hypnotised by the swirling cream and chunks of chicken.
"Mother always takes care of me herself whenever I fall ill Laz. She never gets the servants to do anything- it's always her. She says that by doing everything herself that whatever she does for me is filled with her love and that love would make me better sooner than any healer ever could. It has always worked for me- so when I asked her if it would work for you if I did the same and she said that it would- well, I just had to try Laz," she let her sapphire eyes lock onto his and offered him a small smile. "You're my friend Laz and if my love for you can make you feel better then what is one difficult day for me?"
If Salazar had the strength to move from his seated position he would have given the sweet child an embrace- as tired as he was however he gave her the only thing he could offer- a rare ("For Rowena Only") genuine smile.
00000
The day had been eerily quiet with the Slytherin heir bedridden and the young Ravenclaw tending to him however that did not stop their sires from enjoying the peace. A day spent catching up with fine wines and cheeses, laughs and memories made for quite the evening for the adults in the castle. So engrossed in their revelry were they that they actually forgot how late it was and still without a sighting of the small girl since her fetching more water for Salazar. Salvatore, Oberon and Gwyn all a little rosier in the cheeks merrily made their way back to the north wing of the castle where all their rooms were located to retire for the evening. Salvatore peaked into his only child's room and his ebony eyebrows rose up to his devil's peak. Gesturing silently with his head he encouraged the Ravenclaw's to catch a glimpse as he opened the door further ajar.
There in the dying embers of firelight was Rowena propped up against the headboard with Salazar leaning alongside her, resting his head under her chin- arms wrapped around each other in lieu of warmer quilts. A tray was kicked haphazardly further down the bed, knocking over the bowl spilling its contents down the side of the bed and onto the floor. Crumbs were scattered over them both of them and all around them and the bed was in complete and utter disarray- but the look of serenity upon their children's faces made them feel warmer than wine ever could.
Gwyn as quietly as she could made her way to the bed and gave both of them a kiss goodnight on the forehead before raising the blankets around them both. After closing the door behind them Salvatore regained some of his normal composure and senses,
"I know she is but a child but shouldn't we worry about propriety-"
"Salvatore- let the gossips whisper as much as they care. They're still children, innocent and showing a bond only they can. If they don't mind what people will say then why should we?" Gwyn interrupted touching her friend's arm to remind him that they weren't just any other nobles- they were real friends. No judging, no need for formalities or show.
"Besides," Oberon chuckled, "Anyone says something we don't like we only need to let Rowena know before the little shrew lets them have a piece of her mind. So headstrong for such a small thing… that or we could let her run around with the cleaver some more… that… that was truly terrifying."