you had been sick for the past two weeks. two. weeks.

just your luck, but hey. happens to the best of us.

madam pomfrey had deemed your illness as “a severe cold”, though that felt like an understatement as you were currently residing in your common room, feeling like your head was underwater and that your bones would crumble to dust if you managed to cough or sneeze one more time. in short, you felt like hell.

all of your friends had taken turns over the past few days, taking care of you before and after classes. whether it be getting you water when you needed it, checking your temperature, or simply just keeping you company.

today’s caretaker was barty.

always a fun time.

you were sprawled out on a sofa in the corner of the area on your stomach, face pressed against the arm rest.

barty was knelt next to you on the floor, repeatedly shaking your shoulder to try and get you to lift your head so you could take some sort of disgusting pepper-up potion that you dreaded the idea of consuming.

“okie-dokie. we are not gonna be difficult today.”

he gently but efficiently shoved your shoulder over, turning you on to your back so you could sit up easier, hopefully with a little more of his fantastic convincing.

he pointedly shook the tiny vial of potion in his hand, as if that would persuade you in any way, shape, or form to prop yourself up into an upright position.

barty was a constant mixture of blunt, irritated, and completely amused by this situation. it was hilarious to him how stubborn you were, but merlin, were you annoying when it came to refusing help. especially when you needed it. like right now.

“wanna get better? just take the damn medicine, you moronic child.”