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lovelystarlings · 3 years

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Chapter Five - Neville’s Very Clumsy

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The next morning was, eventful, to say the least. Camille had always been an early riser, her parents had insisted on her and sisters waking up at 5 am on the dot every morning, they had said it was to prepare them for when they themselves had families to wake up for but Camille knew it was just to torture them more then her parents already did. So when she woke up the next morning, wrapped in the velvety covers that they were provided, she felt a sense of tranquillity wash over her. There was no nagging mum leaning over her, no crying Gabrielle in the bed next to her and no annoying perfect Fleur singing in the shower for everyone to hear. It was quiet.

Just how she liked it.

Spinning her legs over the edge carefully, trying not to wake up the sleeping Hermione next to her, Camille walked over to the bathroom door that was left open on the opposite side of the strangely large dormitory.

Picking up her uniform on the way, Camille entered the bathroom quietly, looking around in awe at the extravagant manner of the simple room. On the wall facing the door stood four separate sinks, each having a mirror on the wall above and a small chest of drawers underneath them. Seeing as no one had claimed one yet, Camille chose the one closest to the shower, for once getting first choice of something. Placing her wash bag next to the sink, she carefully hung her uniform over the railing by the shower, not wanting to crease it straight away.

Grabbing her hairbrush out of her bag, she began to run it through her hair gently. Having slept with it in plaits had done her a huge favour, the usual straight and thick mess had been tamed into ringlets that now sat elegantly on her shoulders. Pinning her hair back with a clip, leaving the bottom layer down, Camille felt at peace with how she looked today. Sure, she wasn't as beautiful, after all she was only young, but she wasn't necessarily ugly (dear god did she hate that word), and that was enough.

Hearing movement from the room next her, and the familiarity of the other girls voices, she quickly pulled her shirt over her head and her skirt quickly over her hips, Camille turned to the door smiling at Hermione, who seemed shocked that someone was up before her.

"How are you up so early?" She spoke, her hand running through the bundle of curls that sat on top of her head. She walked over to the sink beside the French girl, placing her own stuff down gently.

"You know what they say," spoke Camille, brushing past Hermione with a smirk. "The early bird gets the worm."

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. It also didn't help that Camille knew where none of her classes were. And neither did Hermione, Or Ron. Or Harry.

Though after fumbling about the school for a long time they had managed to find most of their classes. And Camille had discovered a lot about her teachers.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. Camille had noticed that Neville particularly enjoyed this one.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up, which didn't help Camille in the slightest considering she had no idea who either of them were.

Professor McGonagall had to be Camille's favourite, however. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione and Camille had made any difference to their match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione and Camille a rare smile, both girls giving each other a proud look as they linked arms and skipped off to the next lesson , leaving the boys and their matches far behind.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. Camille vaguely remembered her father telling Fleur (and Fleur told her) about an encounter he had with a vampire once, a very lovely vampire he had told her. His name was Carlisle, and he was a doctor. Camille had been shocked that a vampire could be a doctor, but her father had never lied to Fleur once.

Professor Quirrell's turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story.

For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Camille had befriended the Weasley Twins then and there, she thought they were charming and funny, and rather attractive if she was honest. They could well be veela, she thought, despite knowing that they were pure blood. She wondered what their mother and father looked like.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder there than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Camille and Hermione had been lucky enough to grab seats at the front, neither girls wanting to miss a thing. However, if Camille had known who their Professor was, she would've sat at the back, or even better out of the classroom.

His name was Professor Snape, and he was a tall man, who always seemed to be dressed in a black coat that billowed behind him like the wind itself followed him. His hair was pitch black and greasy, like it hadn't been watched in months, years even.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word, Hermione scribbling down most of it, the sound of her quill annoying Camille slightly, though she didn't say anything. She'd hate to insult the girl. Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sit," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat. Camille heard a loud noise behind her, and turned round to see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, shaking with laughter, and she had to hide a snicker herself. The three looked like utter pillocks.

"I don't know, sir."

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling, despite Camille's attempts to calm her down, not wanting her friend to embarrass herself more than she had. She had the feeling someone was gonna snap, whether it be Harry or Snape.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Camille laughed harmoniously at the sass Harry held in his voice, drawing the attention of the class to her. She had forgotten that most of them had probably never heard veela laugh before, and hers probably had a strange effect on the bunch, considering the majority of them were pre-pubescent teenage boys.

"Sorry," she squeaked, and slumped down in her chair. Hermione patting her head patronisingly. Though she too felt strange at the heavenly sound that had escaped the French girl's mouth.

"Sit down and be quiet," he snapped at Camille. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, though Camille had already been making her notes during the commotion. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter." Idiote, thought Camille. The poor boy had been living with muggles his whole life, how could Snape thing he'd know the simplest thing about potions. Idiote, she repeated.

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy and Camille who had been paired with the blonde boy, the only two whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.

Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Camille flinched, seeing the hurt look on the poor boy's face, unlike Malfoy, or rather Draco as he had asked her to call him, who had laughed.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

Camille and Hermione left the dungeon as soon as they could, both wanting to avoid the catastrophe of cleaning up the spilled potion.

#harry #harry potter #harry potter x reader #hermione #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #fluff #hogwarts #veela #fleur delacour

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years

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S.T. REWRITE - S2:E2; Chapter Two, Trick or Treat, Freak - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

After Will sees something terrible on trick-or-treat night, Mike wonders whether Eleven’s still out there. Tensions grow between Y/n and Mike as does their concern for Will.

||3rd Person POV||

The smell of french toast wafted through the cabin as it sizzled on the frying pan. Hopper glances over his shoulder to see a small figure standing stiff with a white sheet draped over it and two eye holes cut out. The unexpected sight had startled the man.

"Oh, Jesus!"

"Ghost." El stated from under the sheet.

"Yeah, I see that." He said.

Hopper brought the frying pan of french toast over to the counter to serve.

"Halloween."

"Sure is. But now, it's breakfast, okay? Come on, let's eat."

"They wouldn't see me." She said softly, grabbing the man's attention as he brought the food to the table.

"Who wouldn't see you?"

"The bad men."

"What are you talking about?" He said, taking a seat.

"Trick or treat."

He turned to look at her. "You want to go trick-or-treating?"

She stood in silence, confirming his fears.

He frowned and stood up. "You know the rules."

"Yes, but-"

"Yeah, so you know the answer." Hopper softly grabbed her by the shoulders and guided her backwards as he spoke.

"No, but they wouldn't see me." El protested.

"No. Hey. I don't care."

"But they wouldn't see me."

"I don't care, alright?" His voice rose slightly as he bent down to her level. "You go out there, ghost or not, it's a risk. We don't take risks. All right? They're stupid, and..."

"We're not stupid!" She growled.

"Exactly."

"Now, you take that off, sit down and eat. You're food's getting cold."

With a pout on her face, El ripped the sheet off her head, letting it fall to the ground. She let her small body collapse in the chair across from Hopper and she stared at the floor sadly.

Hopper noticed the longing in El, and he felt the remorse and guilt creeping in. He finished pouring syrup on both of their plates and sighed, head leaning against his palm as he rubbed his face.

"All right, look... how about I get off early tonight, and I buy us a bunch of candy, and we can sit around and get fat, and we watch a scary movie together."

"How's that for a compromise?"

The young girl gave him a puzzled look and the foreign word.

"Co-Compromise?"

"C-O-M-promise. Compromise. How about that's your word for the day? Yeah? It's something that's in-between. It's like halfway happy."

"By, 5-1-5?" She asked hopefully.

He nodded his head. "5:15. Yeah, sure."

She looked down at her lap and then back at him. "Promise?"

He leaned forward, looking her in the eye and nodding his head firmly. "Yes. I promise.

She lightly shrugged her shoulders. "Halfway happy."

She grabbed her fork and began eating. Hopper smiled at her softly and leaned forward and ruffled her curly hair, bringing out a light chuckle from El.

The two fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the morning. El tried desperately to enjoy the company while it lasted, knowing in just a few short hours she would be left alone with her thoughts once more.

+++

"Will? Come on, honey, up and at 'em." Joyce Byers stops at the end of the hall and she can feel her stomach plunge as she see finds her youngest son's room empty.

"Will?"

The dreaded sense of dejavu creeps in and she rushes to the end of the hall where Jonathan is making breakfast.

"Jonathan?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's Will?"

"What?"

"Where's Will?"

"He's not in his room?"

"No."

Suddenly there was a small clank that came from the bathroom.

Joyce rushed to the door in a panic, her heart pounding. She threw the door open to find Will standing in front of an open toilet.

"Will?"

"What are you doing?" Her voice came out in a shaky matter as she tried to calm her racing heart.

Will stood there in confusion and he gestured to the toilet. "Peeing?"

"Okay." She breathed out a chuckle and a sigh of relief as she left and closed the door behind her, hearing the sound of the toilet flushing.

***

"Okay..." Joyce had just helped Will into his Ghostbusters jumpsuit.

She reached for the homemade proton pack that rested on his bed, and helped the device onto his back. "Let's get this...on."

"Oh! You need some tape. Hold on." She let go of the loose wire that hung lazily from his pack and walked quickly towards his desk.

Grabbing a piece of tape, she couldn't help but notice a drawing that stuck out to her. It was barely peeking out from under piles of other drawings but she grabbed in and fears began returning.

It was unlike the others. It was extremely detailed, and black white which she noted he almost never did. The landscape was familiar, but she couldn't quite put a finger on it. The most unsettling part of course, was the large looming figure that took center stage. It reminded her of spider the way it stood and everything in it's path was shadowed, although she could tell, it wasn't from the swarm of thunder clouds but the monster itself.

It chilled her. She turned to Will. "What's this?"

Will seemed taken aback, but he quickly recovered.

"Nothing." He started to shift on his feet.

"Did you have another episode?"

"No, it's just, um... a sketch for a story I'm writing."

Joyce sighed, discarding the drawing wanting so badly for that to be true, so did believed it.

+++

"Three, two, one..."

"Great. Hold up the photo blaster."

Jonathan snapped another picture of his brother, Will gleaming in his suit as Jonathan continued to instruct him. Their mother was watching giddily as she smiled at her youngest son. The question she'd been dying to ask on the tip of her tongue.

"All right, now turn to light."

Will did just that, aiming his proton blaster towards a spot on the wall across the room.

"So," Joyce drawled. "[Y/N]'s coming over tonight before hand so we can grab some pictures of you two, right?"

Will felt a blush creep up.

"Mom," Will protested, his smile betraying him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she threw her hands up in surrender but persisted in asking more questions. "So, she is going as...?"

"Janine," Will mumbled, as Jonathan snapped another picture.

"Right, right..." Joyce winced. "And she is...?"

"The receptionist and confidant-"

"Spengler's girlfriend..." Jonathan answered, the mischievous grin of an older brother plastered on his face.

Will felt a blush creep all the way up from his neck, Jonathan took this opportunity to "accidentally" get a picture of his flustered younger brother.

"Jonathan!" Laughed Will.

"What? It's so obvious, and hey, you guys are the ones who chose the costumes."

"It's a coincidence..." He mumbled.

Jonathan and Joyce smirked as Will tried to regain his composure, acting as if the exchange hadn't completely flustered him.

Which it did.

||Reader's POV||

"Oh! Let me see those pearls! Yeah! [Y/N], you almost ready?"

"Coming mom!"

I adjusted the big pair of glasses on my head and slipped on the red sweater vest, completing the outfit. On my way out of my room, I grabbed my first piece of gum out of my pocket stash and popping it in my mouth. The plaid shirt we found worked perfectly for Janine, I was so glad we were able to find everything in time.

I ran back out the hall and my mom greeted me with a squeal.

"Oh! You two look so good, get in there with your brother, honey."

We got a few nice pictures in, Dustin had his ghost trap, it it quite impressive, I must admit.

The last photo consisted of Dustin proudly holding up his ghost trap, while I chose to be in character. I had my back turned to him, my arms folded and in the middle of blowing a bubble as I casually roll my eyes.

***

"Na na na Na na Na"

We had just pulled into school on our bikes, and we all parked them on the bike rack. I silently counted myself lucky that I didn't have to lug a giant proton pack on my shoulders all day.

We all finished the anthem with "Who you gonna call?". It was then that I heard q familiar voice call "Ghostbusters!"

I turned around to see Will in his costume, it looked great.

"Hey, Spengler!"

"Egon! Looking sharp!" I beamed, greeting him with a quick hug.

"Janine! Venkman!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Mike frowned, gesturing to Lucas's name tag.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"Why are you Venkman?"

"Because I'm Venkman." Lucas shrugged.

"No, I'm Venkman."

"Why can't there just be two Venkmans?" Will asked, and I nodded looking to the boys.

"Because there's only one Venkman in real life. We planned this months ago." Mike snapped.

"Mike, calm down. It's alright,"

"I'm Venkman, Dustin's Stantz, Will is Egon, you're obviously Janine, and you're Winston." He finished, pointing at Lucas.

"I specifically didn't agree to Winston." Lucas said.

"Yes, you did!"

"I don't think he did." I said gently.

"No one wants to be Winston, man."

"What's wrong with Winston?"

"What's wrong with Winston? He joined the team super late, he's not funny, and he's not even a scientist!"

"Yeah, but he's still cool." Mike argued.

"If he's cool, then you be Winston."

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

Mike started to stutter, "Because..."

We all fell quiet as the argument got bad quickly.

"Because you're not black?" Lucas finished.

"I didn't say that!"

"You thought it."

I took a deep breath as they continued fighting. However, something clicked in my head as I looked around the school.

"Oh, no."

I nudged Dustin as I continued to look around, dread and regret creeping in.

Dustin looked to me and then around, realizing the same awful fact.

"Guys..." Dustin mumbled.

"Guys!" I finally snapped, grabbing their attention.

The other three fell silent and we all watched in horror as everyone got off the bus. In regular clothes.

"Why is no else wearing costumes?"

"Well, shit."

+++

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featherypromises · 5 years

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Seokjin wasn't going to come out of this unscathed. Featuring sickie Namjoon, a smidgen of Jungkook, and Seokjin. Caretaking with Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin. Minor mess warning!

For the prequel, click the link below.

Do as I say, not as I do (2):

A good hyung

Seokjin woke up. Not in his bed; laying down, but sitting in a rolling desk chair with his upper body stretched out face-down on top of Namjoon's comforter. He must have fallen asleep after putting Joonah to bed.

The leader of BTS was still fast asleep. His mouth hung open, allowing quiet, congested snores to escape. He was also blissfully unaware of his audience of one.

Remembering why he had been in the room in the first place, the older man reached over to gently place the back of his hand against Namjoon's forehead. The sleeping boy was still a bit warm, but definitely not as bad as he had been last night. The oldest member sighed tiredly and stretched. His back ached from the awkward way he had slept, but as long as Joon was okay, it was worth it.

Getting up quietly to avoid waking his dongsaeng, the taller man left the room, closing the door behind him. He could hear voices and commotion downstairs, so the others were probably up. He tried in vain to flatten and smooth his flyaway hair as he headed towards the kitchen.

Hobi was in the kitchen, preparing vegetables and chattering away at Yoongi, who, in his hyung's absence had started breakfast… Or lunch? Was it really 11:30 already?

The maknae line was in a row on the sofa, looking like living representations of "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" and they were oblivious to how cute it looked. Tae was holding the sides of his head, being aegyo. He had just trounced Jimin thoroughly in a video game and the defeated Jimin was covering his eyes in utter disbelief at the upset of his victory. Poor Kookie, looking only half-awake, held a tissue over his nose and mouth with both hands, blowing his much abused nose softly. Seokjin watched them, entertained, as the younger members teased each other and squabbled amongst themselves.

The oldest rapper turned to place the cooking pot into the sink and saw his hyung and what he was looking at. Immediately, Yoongi poked Hoseok and jerked his thumb towards the young vocalists. They shared a smile before turning to Seokjin.

"Morning Hyung!" Said Hobi brightly.

"Barely…" Yoongi added, "Where's Joonah?"

"Sick…" admitted the older man with a sigh, "I think he caught it from Kookie, but… well, you know Namjoonah never does anything halfway."

Yoongi muttered a curse,

"Aiisssh, that kid! Seriously…If he would just slow down for a minute…" Hoseok quieted his friend by placing a kindly hand on his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Is he doing okay? How can we help?

Seokjin smiled at the dance leader and shook his head,

"I gotta handle this one, Hobiyah. It's not bad enough for him to go to the hospital, but he had a fever last night and this morning. I stayed with him overnight to make sure he would be alright." The oldest member rubbed his sore neck and looked at the counter in front of him rather than meet the eyes of either of the younger men.

Hobi sucked in a breath through his teeth, making a disapproving cluck,

"Hyung! I could have stayed with him, or Yoongi,... You realize you are probably going to get it too now right?"

Min Yoongi put two and two together in his head and swore again,

"Damnit Hyung! You are just as bad as Joonie! You catch everything these punks bring in here!" He pointed at the three youngest on the couch, drawing their attention. He continued,

"How long did you lecture Namjoon on his health yesterday, or today? I know you did! Don't shake your head at me hyung. You should apply some of your "wisdom" to your own life! Any of us, except maybe Jimin, (the exception to this statement objected with a loud "Yaaah!" and was ignored) would have had a better chance of not catching this than you. It's a miracle that you didn't catch it from Jungkookie!" Yoongi glared at the taller man, who glanced up when the rapper paused for breath.

"I know. It was dumb, but I couldn't just stand by and watch. He hid how sick he was until I found him out and demanded that he take today off. I know I'm going to get it, if I don't have it already, Yoongiyah. But Joon wasn't going to rest or tell anyone, because he felt that would be wrong for a leader to do that when we were all working so hard." Seokjin could feel the youngest three members' eyes on him and he turned towards them,

" You three need to stay away from Namjoon's room for at least a few days. This bug is a lot worse than what Kookie had..." Jungkook blew his nose again, and Seokjin corrected himself, "well, has… This isn't personal, it's being sure that we all don't end up getting sick. Okay?" The young trio nodded, and Seokjin continued, "I'll be with Joon until his fever's gone, but after that, if I start feeling even a little bit sick, I will be in my room, so steer clear until I let you know it's okay to go in again."

He got more nods, and "Yes, Hyung"s from the maknaes. The eldest member turned back to Hoseok and Yoongi, who was still glowering at him.

"I'm going to need a few things: tissues, cough sweets, cold medicine that fix congestion and coughing, and some of the juices from the refrigerator. Food will be harder to figure out… Yoongiyah, Can you take the soup I froze last week out? Joon can eat that for a while. If I only come to the kitchen to heat up the food and we sanitize well, we should be able to reduce the chances that anyone else gets this."

Hobi began collecting the requested items as he spoke, leaving his hyungs to sort out the rest. Min Yoongi put his pointer finger up in a warning gesture,

"Hyung, you are going to tell me when you start to feel even a little off… I will bring food to you and to Joon. We really can't afford to have another member get sick or the recording next week is going to be delayed." Seokjin nodded reluctantly. He hated being fussed over, but the rapper was right.

"I will." The oldest hyung gathered up the supplies and returned to Namjoon's bedroom. The door creaked a bit as he opened it, announcing his reentry. Namjoon groaned as he turned over and opened his eyes slowly. Putting the care items down on the desk, the older boy went over and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Hey Jooniyah, how are you feeling?"

The younger man looked up at his hyung blearily,

"Dot good, Hyug. I'b so stuffed ub, I cadt breathe." Seokjin cringed as the younger man coughed harshly into his hands. His body shook with the effort and the struggle to stop the coughs seemed to drain the little energy the rapper had.

"Let's get some medicine in you, Joonah." The older man helped him sit up against the pillows and measured out the red, gloppy medicine. Handing the tiny cup to Namjoon, Seokjin opened a berry-flavored juice and set it beside the sick man on his nightstand. The leader swallowed the stuff with a grimace and immediately chased it with a big gulp of juice. He licked his lips reflexively and winced. They were so badly chapped that the bottom lip was bleeding slightly.

"Are the others okay?" asked the not-so-off-duty leader, as he pulled a tube of lip balm out from under the pile of books on his nightstand and applied it generously.

"Worried about you, but fine otherwise." The older man replied honestly. Namjoon dropped his gaze to his lap and his fingers began toying with the bottle lid. Seokjin sighed,

" They would have found out sooner or later… besides they have to let the managers know that you are not well enough for the photoshoot tomorrow."

That made the leader look up sharply. When he started to protest, Seokjin held up his hand,

"Even if you feel 100% better tomorrow, you might still pass this on to the others. Nobody wants that, Jooniyah."

The rapline's maknae looked like he still had objections for a moment, but his body had other ideas.

"Hh...Hiih-Hxxgt! Hhxxntch! Hiiphissh! Hektshuh!! Hhh...huhhh…ugh."

As the sneezes ripped their way out of the younger man's nose and throat, he struggled to squash them into his elbow as Seokjin watched helplessly. The oldest member grabbed the tissue box, pulled out a few and handed them to his Dongsaeng. Namjoon hitched for a moment more before groaning in frustration, as the last sneeze eluded him. He took the tissues and blew his nose cautiously, not wanting to trigger another fit. The sound made Seokjin's hair stand on end and he shuddered. It sounded similar to someone popping small bubbles on bubble wrap as the viscous liquid was forced out little by little.

"Poor Joonie… I'm sorry you are feeling so bad." The older man smoothed Namjoon's hair away from his forehead, checking for a fever. The findings gave Seokjin a little comfort. Joon might still be under the weather, but the fever was gone. The vocalist cleared his throat, as he quickly removed his hand, trying to regain his composure and hide his relief. This small action had an unexpected consequence, however. The ailing rapper looked at his hyung with confusion, which quickly evolved into anxious concern, then a guilt-induced panic:

"Hyug, you're dnot… Oh no, did I ged you sig?!? Shit! I'b so stupid! How could I have let you do all those things for be yesterday?!? I shouldn't have let you dnear be! And you were here all last dnight too? I'b so sorry, hyug!"

Seokjin's utter shock at this sudden reaction, shaped his mouth into a small dumbfounded "o". Recovering himself, he tried to calm the unwell man, who was still berating himself with a thoroughness that showed that this was not the first time that he had thought these insults at himself.

"Joonah! JOON! STOP! Just stop it now! You are not stupid at all! Never say anything like that again! If I get this cold, so what? I've had colds before. It's my job to look after myself, and if I don't, then the consequences are my fault. Mine. Not yours." Seokjin drew the anxiously trembling man to him, embracing him tightly, " I took my vitamins and got plenty of sleep, so that should give me a fighting chance. Yoongi said it was weird that I hadn't already caught this from Jungkook, maybe I'm building up some resistance."

The older man felt the other man's congested breathing calm as he held him. Seokjin released the slightly smaller man slowly, guiding him back to lean against the pillows again.

"You don't have to worry about anything except feeling better, okay?" The vocalist ruffled Namjoon's hair gently. The younger man nodded slowly, then blushed as his stomach grumbled its impatience for food loudly. Seokjin laughed,

"Sounds like you're hungry! I'll check with Yoongi and see if lunch is ready." A few text messages and minutes later, Min Yoongi entered carrying two bowls of chicken and vegetable soup.

"Seokjin-hyung said you weren't feeling well, so your hyungs thought soup would help you get better faster. Hoseokie will come check on you later." Yoongi held out one bowl to the younger rapper and gave the other to Seokjin. The normally taciturn man seemed to struggle for a moment before saying,

"You worried us, Joonah… Next time you aren't 100%, just tell us. We won't think badly of you for something you can't control."

Namjoon responded with a sheepish smile,

"I will, Yoongi-hyung… sorry."

Min Yoongi brushed the apology away with a flap of his hand,

"Quit with your sorries and eat before it gets cold." Namjoon obeyed and ate with obvious enjoyment. Seokjin would have been content just to watch the younger man eat. He was happiest when he could cook good food for the other members, but at the moment he had more pressing issues. An alarm bell was going off in his head, signaling him to do something about a tickle that was growing in the back of his nose. He fought for control as his nose twitched and scrunched with irritation. He had only a few seconds to act. He stood abruptly,

"HH- I'm going to use the-hhh bathroom. I-I'll be back." He left quickly, his breath already hitching. He dashed down the hall, out of earshot and sneezed desperately,

"Heh-hephBrrrsshuh! Ahh-Brreshooo!" The sneezes bent him at the waist, forcing him to try to catch them in his cupped hands. His eyes stung as his sinuses burned and his nose wasn't through with him yet, "Hhh-H'Ressshuh! Ah-GRSShooo! BRESSHUH!"

Seokjin's hands were covered in a mess of liquid and his face twisted in disgust. He sniffled fruitlessly and turned into the bathroom, leaning his back against the door until it closed behind him. He used his elbows to turn on the faucet and scrubbed his hands until they were bright pink. He sniffled again, trying to prevent the fluid from running over his upper lip.

The cold had finally caught up with him as Hoseok and Yoongi had said it would. He wasn't congested like Joonie was yet, but Seokjin knew it was only a matter of hours. He was just glad he had been able to leave before Yoongi, or worse, Namjoon had seen or heard that fit. The normally quiet Yoongi would have dragged his hyung by his ear back to the vocalist's bedroom and superglued the taller man to his bed. A small smile played across Seokjin's face at the mental image that accompanied that thought. But that picture was quickly warped until he could only see Joonah's panic-stricken face and hear the younger man verbally beating himself to a pulp over Seokjin getting sick. With a herculean effort, the oldest member pushed the gut-wrenching nightmare image away and splashed water onto his face to help clear his head. He would have to keep this development from Joon. If he didn't, the younger man would just make himself sicker worrying about things that he couldn't fix or change.

The vocalist dried his face and hands before grabbing some tissues and blowing his nose. The man knew how pointless blowing his nose was at this point. It was like kicking at a wave rolling onto the shore: you couldn't stop it, but trying made him feel like he wasn't giving in to the illness yet. He shoved extra tissues into his pocket, just in case.

Steeling himself, he returned to the youngest rapper's bedroom. Yoongi gave him a suspicious look as he entered, but said nothing. Instead the younger man put his pointer finger close to his lips in a pantomime of "Shush". Seokjin relaxed as he saw that their leader was asleep again, his bedspread lovingly tucked in around him and a box of tissues within easy reach.

Silently the older men collected the bowls, flatware, and empty bottle of juice and left the room like shadows, closing the door behind them. They moved down the hall towards the stairs, when Seokjin felt a tap on his shoulder from behind. When he turned to see what the rapper needed, the older man was instantly subjected to a long, deft finger poking him in the nose. Seokjin stumbled back and gasped as his now sensitized nose objected, and launched him into an itchy flurry of sneezes.

"Wh-what the Hehhhl! H-Heh-Hahrresshoo! HehGrresshhoo!! Hat'shuuh! Ghessshoo! Heh-HAH-HEKT'SHOOO!!! ASH-CHOO!!!"

Unable to cover with full hands, Seokjin sneezed openly, twisting away from the younger man. At the end of the fit, the older man was a sniffling, drippy wreck. He wiped his runny nose on the forearm of his sleeve. Through teary eyes, he saw Yoongi glaring at him, arms crossed; the dishes he'd been carrying on the floor, forgotten.

Defeated, the older man made a face at the younger man before continuing down the stairs with the dishes. He put them into the sink and used a paper towel to clean himself up, as Yoongi caught up with him. The rapper deposited the remaining dishes into the sink and said,

"I could hear you from down the hall."

Seokjin went white as a sheet. Had Namjoon heard too? The shorter man shook his head, in response to the unasked question.

"Joon was too busy to hear… his nose was causing him problems too. He was so tired after that much sneezing that he almost fell asleep sitting up."

The singer sighed in relief. He nodded and turned to head upstairs to get some rest himself. It would be a long couple of days. Passing Yoongi, he rested one large hand on the smaller man's shoulder.

"Don't tell him… Joonie would just be upset."

"Fine, but you have to promise me, Hyung, that you will text either me or Hobi if you need anything or if you start feeling really bad. Any sign of fever or…anything…" Yoongi didn't meet his hyung's eyes, but Seokjin knew that was just the rapper trying to hide his concern. Six years of friendship had given the oldest member at least that much insight into Min Yoongi's mind. He smiled at the younger man,

"I promise, Yoongiyah." His tender moment with the younger member was interrupted by another sneeze. This time he was able to fish a tissue from his pocket to catch it.

"Huh-HUH-HEH-GHSSSHH!" The younger man rolled his eyes at his hyung,

"Yeah-yeah, let's get you back upstairs. I'll check on Joonie once you are settled and I'll have Hoseokie check on you later."

The oldest member snuffled into the tissue and nodded, following the smaller man up the stairs and into his bedroom. Seokjin wasn't really surprised when the rapper turned down the bed coverlet and sheets or when he pulled the shades on the windows to darken the room for sleep. What surprised him was that once he had laid down, Yoongi with practiced hands began to tuck him in, in the same way he had obviously done for Namjoon, not long ago. Seokjin hadn't experienced this in years, it felt strangely comforting.

"Sleep well, Hyung. I will bring you some medicine in a few minutes." The older man smiled at the rapper, showing a mixture of pride and gratitude, and said just loud enough for Yoongi to hear as he turned to leave,

"You are a good hyung, Yoongiyah."

"You too."

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