He groaned softly as the needle threaded through his skin, but gritted his teeth. He'd taken the cut, he could take the stitch, was his philosophy. Being friends with the three most chaotic boys in Hogwarts wasn't easy, but he had no regrets; The Marauders were his responsibility, and he would protect them, even if it meant taking a cut. Or five. Or a dozen. His running record was forty-five. What a wild day that had been.

Relaxing as the needle was tugged back out, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks," he said, offering a lopsided smile. "Sorry you always have to patch me up. You're just, you know, really good at it."

He chuckled as his longtime friend (and nurse) gave him a fond eye roll and a snort. They'd known each other for years, ever since daycare. Back then, he'd been cute, nice, and quiet. Presently, he was handsome, charming, and... still quiet, but had also picked up the titles of "ridiculous dumbass" and "literal idiot." There was no one else he'd rather have taking care of him than his best friend, though. Marauders life had cut him off from most people who didn't also throw themselves at danger in the form of pranks and stupid jokes, but this friendship had endured.

"You know," he said, watching as his friend tied off the stitch and cut the thread, "I didn't even really know what the prank was this time. They just told me to go with them."