Written for the Hospital Wing challenge.

Prompts:

"It's not that serious!"

goblet

word restriction: 2,160 (according to Microsoft Word 2013, without the line breaks)

Drabble Cub: creature - ghost

Quidditch pitch: He had never seen such a bright green.

November 1974

Lisa stared into the swirling turquoise substance in the goblet.

This was probably a bad idea. She shouldn't have to change for a guy to like her, right? He was supposed to like her the way she was, and anyway, if he rejected her she'd be stuck looking in a way she didn't necessarily like.

But on the other hand, she didn't necessarily dislike the idea, either. And it wouldn't be like she was changing herself, it was only the way she looked, just to capture his attention. Afterwards it would be up to her to keep it, he wasn't so shallow as to stay with a girl for her looks.

Lisa's face burned at the thought. She'd never had a boyfriend before, and he was so smart, and charming, and oh, that smile of his...

Her hands cupped the goblet firmly and she drank.

~O~

Dorcas was dying of boredom.

How anyone could have the will power to still take History of Magic after the O.W.L. level was completely beyond her. Binns' constant droning was numbing her brain, and she actually felt like she was becoming dumber just by listening to him. If it wasn't for Lisa's notes, she would probably fail the class every year.

The Slytherin's bright blue eyes soared above her classmates' heads, wishing she had taken a seat by the window. Sometimes one could see the lake from up here, and the occasional tentacle of the Giant Squid, floating to the surface lazily. She had wondered at times what it must be like to be eaten by the Squid. Lisa had told her the Hogwarts specimen was somewhat tamed, but sometimes the desire to push certain people in there with a steak around their neck (or whatever it was Squids ate) was tempting. Merlin, this class was wearing on her brain. If it had her imagining Isabelle Devereaux, wailing as she was being devoured by a sea monster, she was definitely losing her touch. That harpy deserved a fate much worse than that. Perhaps being fed to a Sphinx. Watching Isabelle wrack her tiny brain to answer a riddle would either be hilarious or extremely boring. But even that would be more entertaining to watch than sitting through this boring class. Hell, right now she would even take watching Hagrid water his pumpkin patch over this horrible, monotone—

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by a folded piece of parchment that slipped under the door and made a few loops into the air, before landing in her lap. Dorcas looked at it in puzzlement, then took it in her hand. She noticed most of the class was staring, too bored to pay attention to Binns.

"What are you lot looking at?" she whispered. "Get back to fantasizing about killing Binns a second time."

There were a few sniggers, and most of the class returned to their snoring. Dorcas made sure her desk mate, Nataly Prior, was staring unseeingly at the black board before unfolding the parchment. Inside, in Lisa's hand, were the words:

Third floor lavatory HELP ME

The dark-haired girl stared at the parchment. Was Lisa in some sort of trouble? It was unlikely this was an attack; she wouldn't have had time to send notes. Dorcas looked up at Binns. The ghostly professor's eyes were closed as he floated in the air in front of the class, reciting a passage of some ancient poem about a small group of wizards who died defending some pass or whatever in the Middle Ages. Her eyes darted to the door. Binns barely noticed his own death, what were the chances he'd see her sneak out of the classroom?

Dorcas decided that she'd risk it. Hunching low, she made her way between the desks and to the right wall of the classroom, taking cover behind the other students. Some of her classmates gave her weird looks, but the glares she sent back had them turning forward again — no one was exactly eager to incur her wrath. The brunette made it to the door and slowly turned the knob, keeping her eyes on the teacher. As she expected, Binns was way too absorbed in his own voice to notice the petty actions of mere mortals. Dorcas smirked, slipped out the door and silently closed it.

~O~

Ten minutes later, she stood in front of the third floor girls' lavatory. Since it was the middle of class, she encountered no one on the way there, not even Filch's blasted cat. The Slytherin glanced up and down the corridor to make sure it was empty, then tried the handle. It was locked.

She hesitated for only a second, then lifted her fist and knocked softly. "Lisa? Are you in there?"

Without so much as a response, the door swung open and Dorcas was drawn inside before she even knew what was happening. It slammed behind her loudly, and she found herself facing the polished mirrors above the sinks, blinking at them in confusion. She could see Lisa's reflection in them, waving her wand to lock the lavatory again.

The dark-haired Slytherin turned around. "Are you okay? What's going on?" Lisa slowly turned to face her, and Dorcas' jaw dropped. She had never seen such a bright green.

Lisa's skin was a brilliant shade of emerald, clashing horribly with her brown eyes and honey-blonde hair.

"Is this supposed to be some sort of demonstration of our friendship? I think bracelets would have served the purpose just as well, don't you?" Dorcas quipped, barely keeping in her giggles.

"This isn't funny!" Lisa cried desperately. "I can't get it off!"

Dorcas exploded in a loud laughter.

"Yes, yes, Lisa made an embarrassing mistake, how hilarious," the Gryffindor said flatly. "Now will you stop laughing and help me?"

"Fine, fine." Dorcas regained her composure with some difficulty. "Colovaria!" she said, pointing her wand at Lisa. Nothing happened. Dorcas frowned. "Colovaria!" she repeated, but the end result was the same.

"I don't think it's working," Lisa noted.

"Seems that way," Dorcas said, now completely serious. She stepped closer and inspected the skin on her friend's wrist carefully. Tapping it with her wand, she muttered a few more incantations, but nothing worked.

"Now what?" the blonde witch asked, her voice tinted with worry.

"Now we go to the Hospital Wing." Dorcas grabbed Lisa's wrist and pulled her to the door.

The Gryffindor dug her heels in the floor and cried, "It's not that serious! I'm not in any pain, we shouldn't bother Madam Pomfrey with this!"

Dorcas shot her an incredulous look. "Not that serious?! Lisa, you look like the Grinch!" The pureblood tilted her head in puzzlement, and Dorcas racked her head to come up with a wizarding equivalent. "Er... you look like a Kappa."

"I don't care what I look like, I am not leaving this bathroom!" Lisa said adamantly.

"And why not? Are you planning on sleeping in the sinks?"

"They don't look that uncomfortable."

"Lisa!"

The Gryffindor looked down at her feet, her cheeks becoming a darker shade of green. "If I go, she'll ask me how I got this way."

Dorcas stared at her for a few seconds. "And how did you get like this?"

"I..." Lisa played with her red-and-gold tie nervously. "I made a potion. And it sort of went wrong."

The Slytherin let out a deep sigh. "Could have just asked for help, you know. I'm better at Potions than you."

"I know..." Lisa muttered.

"... So? What potion was it?" Dorcas prompted.

"Er... well, I was trying to..." Lisa's voice lowered to a mumble, and Dorcas couldn't make out the rest.

"What?"

"I... I tried to give myself a tan, okay?" Lisa shouted.

The other girl stared at her in bewilderment. "A tan? What for?"

"I..." Lisa's entire face was becoming such a deep green, that it almost turned black. "I heard Fabian say the girls he saw in France this summer were very pretty, and that he likes how tan they were. Unlike... unlike British girls, who are always pale."

Dorcas' eyebrow arched up. "And you tried to look like one of those French tarts?"

"I just... I wanted to ask him to partner with me for the Ancient Runes assignment, and I thought..." Lisa began playing with the tie again.

"So you drank an untested potion just to impress some guy?" Dorcas said, scrunching her nose in disapprovement.

"That's easy for you to say!" Lisa snapped. "You've never had to work to impress guys; they practically fall at your feet! I just... I wanted to stand out from the crowd a little, to get him to notice me."

Dorcas sighed. "Lisa, it's not all just down to looks. It's about how you hold yourself, how you act, the way you smile and talk with a guy. That's what will win him over, not some fake tan."

"I don't know how to do those things," Lisa mumbled under her breath.

Dorcas gave her a skeptical look. "You don't know how to smile and talk?"

"I do, but... it's different when I do it with a guy." The Gryffindor's brown eyes met her friend's blue ones, and the waterfall of words spilled out. "I get all nervous when I talk to guys and I start babbling, and you know how I get when I do that, I just bury the person under a mountain of information; I tried asking Fabian if I could borrow his dictionary once, you know, made up some excuse that my owl pooped on mine or something, I honestly don't remember anymore, and then it just happened, and I started talking about Gwen and somehow ended up describing proper feather care to him, and then he gave me that weird look, and—"

Dorcas placed a hand on her friend's shoulder, making her shut up. "Listen. Those guys that look at you weird aren't for you, anyway. The babbling is just a quirk, it's something that's a part of who you are. One day you'll meet someone who will find the fact that you spill whole books in one breath charming, and he'll love that about you. And that guy won't mind that you're bad at flirting, because you wouldn't have to be good at it for him, he'll like you just the way you are and will never make you feel like you need to change. If Fabian Prewett isn't that someone, and it doesn't sound like he is, then who needs him?"

Lisa gave her a small smile. "But Fabian is really cute."

Dorcas laughed. "He's average. Now let's get going, before—"

But it was too late. A loud, girlish cackle came from the nearest toilet, and the transparent figure of Moaning Myrtle soared above them.

"Ooooh, is that gossip that I hear? Lisa Fawley has a crush on Fabian Prewett, and she turned herself green in a desperate attempt to impress him! I can't wait to tell e-ve-ry-one!" Myrtle giggled happily.

Lisa's face became the pale green of a lima bean.

Dorcas smiled sweetly, though there was a dangerous gleam in her eyes. "Is that so? I think everyone will be far too busy laughing when Peeves comes after you with Mrs. Norris' litter box to care. He has been wondering where you run off to when he stops by your toilet."

Myrtle's face screwed up unpleasantly, as if she were just forced to swallow a whole lemon.

"But you wouldn't really tell him, would you?" she said, completely changing her tune. "I was only joking, of course I wouldn't—"

"Oh, shut up, Myrtle!" Dorcas snapped. "Everyone knows you take pleasure in other people's suffering, but if you open your big mouth about this I'll make sure the entire student body knows you peep in the boys' prefect bath!"

Myrtle gave out a heartbreaking cry and started sobbing. "Everybody always picks on me! Sure, make fun of me for my glasses and my robes and my hair; nobody even stops by my bathroom to talk anymore! They all avoid me because I'm ugly, and fat, and—"

Dorcas rolled her eyes. "Oh, boo hoo, everyone always picks on poor little Myrtle. Maybe if you weren't such a two-faced cow, you'd have more friends."

Myrtle gave out one last, agonizing wail, and dived head-first into the toilet in the second cubical.

"Don't you think you were too hard on her?" Lisa asked hesitantly. She felt bad for Myrtle sometimes; it was true that everyone avoided her bathroom like Severus Snape avoided a shower.

"Please." Dorcas waved dismissively. "It's only Myrtle, she'll get over it. Now let's go, I'll tell Madam Pomfrey that I tried to play a prank on you."

Lisa gave her friend a grateful smile, then undid the locking charm on the door and carefully peeked outside. After making sure the coast was clear, the two girls left the lavatory, ignoring the sad sobs echoing from the drain.