Good timing (Ashlyn)

[Damon Graas R5]

He hated being ill. Truly, utterly despised it. Not that he was ill that often. Which possibly made his disgruntlement even worse in those cases he was sick. Like now that he was sort of down with a little bit of common flu. An unexpected sneeze escaped out of his mouth and freezing in the middle of his stirring, Damon stared morosely down into the potion that had been making and that had been simply ruined by the sneeze. And it had been his third attempt. He had forgotten one step in the first attempt. Been seized by a violent cough and accidentally knocked over attempt number two. And now the potion had been ruined by his sneeze sending a bit of snot flying into the cauldron. Flushing the insides of the ruined drink down the drain, Damon left his cauldron and Potions supplies on the table, as he dropped to sit at the wall of the old Potions classroom that wasn’t used anymore. He had ruined three attempts of making his own Pepper-Up potion. And it was completely not possible for him to go to the Hospital Wing. After a run-in of the school nurse being just a bit too needy and curious at the expense of their sisters transformations, none of the Graas ever visited or tolerated the nurse to look after them.

Maybe he was just doomed to be sick. He didn’t really have the energy to start another attempt at the Potion. At least he had had a drop of headache potion still left, so his head wasn’t pounding as badly as it might. But his throat was sore, his nose itched, he felt weak, had a bit of a fever, and generally felt awful. It was going to be a long day. And just the first period had ended. Not that Damon had bothered going to class. He was a smart and proper enough student for the professors not to cause drama if he missed for one day – especially if he would point out that he wasn’t feeling all that good. And his brothers could probably cover for him easily enough should someone ask. Even if he made a mental note to ask what they had said in case someone would ask.

The door swung open quite unexpectantly and Damon blearily raised his eyes. This classroom hadn’t been used for years with the exception of him. Fully expecting to see some of his siblings coming to check on him, Damon was quite taken aback at the sight of bright blue eyes and blond hair that had became very familiar lately. Letting out a tired groan, Damon let himself slump tiredly to the floor, so that only his shoulders and head was propped up against the wall. Just peachy, wasn’t it? The one girl he was interested in got to see him looking his worst with pale skin, flushed cheeks, red and unfocused eyes, and messy hair, with a couple of strands sticking hotly to his scalp. Wondering hazily whether the bond lead her here or his siblings, Damon peeked up at the feeling of a cool hand on his forehead. At least the sickness was fully physical, so he wouldn’t transfer the nausea and achy feelings over to Ashlyn. Even if his current emotional mix of self-pity and irony at his wallowing in self-pity as well as irritation for becoming ill probably weren’t the most fun emotions either. “Hope you aren’t here to fetch me for class. I don’t think I’m quite ready to move for the next, oh, 5 or 6 hours still,” Damon informed Ashlyn quite matter-of-factly, offering a weak grimace in the place of a grin.

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

Ashlyn drummed her fingers against the table thoughtfully, her gaze passing over the class and her fellow students. Almost everyone was present. Almost. Professor Hawthorne was demonstrating the correct wand motion to a group of Gryffindors – yet again – the Gryffindors were looking slightly irritated by their incompetence and the two Ravenclaws in the midst of the group were looking smugly superior. It was a typical DADA lesson really. Or rather, it would have been before she met Damon. Annoying, witty Damon to whom she was becoming irritatingly fond of. As if it wasn’t enough that she was bonded to a boy for the rest of her life, she also had to start enjoying his company. Damon, who wasn’t in the class, learning the spells like he should be. But she wasn’t worried or anything so ridiculous. Ashlyn scoffed mentally, the tapping of her fingers becoming more erratic. No, she wasn’t worried. She just wanted to know where he was so that she could smack him for missing class. Exactly. It was just what he deserved for – no, not for making her worry because she wasn’t worried, Ashlyn insisted to herself firmly – skipping class.

First period ended and Ashlyn shot out of her chair and through the door without even waiting to note down what the homework was. She could just hunt down Hawthorne later and request it. She waited until she was in an empty corridor before closing her eyes and imagining the bond as if it was in front of her. It was a shining silver-flecked bronze rope of light, in her mind, and Ashlyn prodded it inquisitively until she felt the knowledge of Damon’s general whereabouts appear in her mind. Messing about with magical bonds was a dangerous thing to do unless you knew the intricacies of such old magic. Fortunately for Ashlyn, she had been taught such things for the majority of her childhood and little, if any, of the information had been forgotten since then.

The dungeons. Ashlyn rolled her eyes and released the bond slowly, letting it simmer back down until it was just the general feeling of something other than herself hovering at the back of her mind. He had better have a good excuse for making her concerned, Ashlyn grumbled as she opened the door. “You look awful,” she noted light-heartedly, crouching in front of him and laying a hand on his forehead gently. A fever. Just great. He couldn’t have simply been skipping class so that she could smack him for it and then drag him to class. “Why didn’t you just go to the Hospital Wing?” Ashlyn demanded exasperatedly as she surveyed the Potions equipment laid out on the table. She wasn’t the best at Potions but, judging by Damon’s state of health and the ingredients scattered on the table, she’d take a guess and say that he had been aiming to make the Pepper Up Potion. Something that Madam Pomfrey probably had shelves full of. “And why didn’t you at least go somewhere warmer if you wanted to be stubborn and suffer through something that Pomfrey could cure in seconds by giving you a potion? Idiot.”

[Damon Graas R5]

He hadn’t entirely planned to let Ashlyn see him, while he was feeling down like this. He knew he looked awful, but did Ashlyn entirely have to point it out even more, Damon pondered with a mild scowl towards the girl, feeling too exhausted to even shift himself into a more comfortable position. Peering blearily at the girl, now inspecting his potions supplies, Damon suppressed the urge to call her back. Her hand had been so pleasantly cool on his forehead. But he’d really rather not get her ill either. Being ill himself was bad enough as it was. Why didn’t he go to the Hospital Wing? The sneer that appeared on Damon’s face would have made any Slytherin proud. “Cause the nurse is an idiot. Well, supposedly she knows a thing or two about her work, but I don’t think she entirely remember the part about not torturing her patients in the Hippocrates oath. It does have such a part, right?” Damon grumbled out load, waving his hand before Ashlyn could ask, “A clash of opinions a couple of years ago. Morgana’s story to tell, not mine.”

“Besides you look better than Pomfrey,” Damon added after a moment of deliberation, as he let his eyes slide closed again. He did felt a bit dizzy. Ah, being ill was awful. Hadn’t Ashlyn asked him something. Oh right. Some place warmer. “I’m too hot anyway,” opening one eye, Damon winked at Ashlyn flirtingly, “Both looking hot and feeling warm. And you aren’t allowed to smack me. I’m ill and unarmed!” Which was true as well. Damon’s wand was laying on the table next to the cauldron. But he had been thinking about something else. Why dungeons. Right. “It’s too hot even here though. Your hand was pleasantly cool before,” Damon muttered, absently raising his arm and pulling his shirt open in the front to let some more of the chill air reach his bare skin, not caring the least bit his rip had sent a couple of buttons skittering around the floor. “Going to Pomfrey would only make me suffer more. I didn’t step in there even when you broke your wrist,” Damon argued, pointing out logical facts that Ashlyn seemed to have somehow over-looked.

“I’m not the top of the year, but I’m doing quite well in all our classes. And even though studying doesn’t always mean you’re getting education, I don’t entirely think I could be named an idiot. Could I?” Damon wondered out blearily, as he shifted himself slightly lower to rest on the floor and closed his eyes. Sniffling loudly and letting out a hacking cough, Damon waved his tissue absent-mindedly towards the whole classroom. “You can head back to class though. I’ll survive. I think. Are there even any classes today? There shouldn’t be. I’d be missing them. But if I was feeling any better, this setting would almost be romantic,” Damon managed to get out, before being overtaken by a fit of coughing again.

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

“Madam Pomfrey is not an idiot,” Ashlyn scolded patiently, frowning at Damon mildly. “If she’s an idiot then I feel rather offended that you took me to her after I broke my wrist.” He really did look awful. Ashlyn bit her lip worriedly and then scowled. If Damon wanted to be an idiot and hide in abandoned classrooms and skip classes then that wasn’t her problem. She wasn’t worried or concerned or debating whether to just drag him to the Hospital Wing anyway. Because Damon was an idiot and she didn’t worry about idiots. “If I ever feel the need to know then I’ll be sure to ask Morgana,” Ashlyn assured Damon dryly, deciding straight away that she would never feel the urge to know. She had somehow become friends with one of the Graas’s but that didn’t mean that she had to play nice with the whole lot of them any more than necessary.

Ashlyn rolled her eyes, her right hand automatically rising to rub at her temples. He was ill, she reminded herself silently. At no point was she allowed to grab a textbook from her bag and whack him over the head with it in the hopes of knocking some sense into his brain. “You’re obviously delusional and that’s the only reason I’m going to ignore that comment rather than smacking you. But do you really have to start undressing?” Ashlyn demanded, her voice rising to a horrified squeak as she turned away. “My poor, innocent eyes,” Ashlyn groaned even as she used her wand to cut off the sleeve of her blouse and then used a spell to wet it before folding it neatly and laying it across Damon’s forehead carefully to cool his fever slightly. It would surely be cooler than her hand had been. “Corrupted by you and your indecency. I hope you’re going to pay my therapy bills.” Maybe she needed to go to Madam Pomfrey, Ashlyn pondered innocently. She felt rather strange all of a sudden and that could only mean that she had caught something from Damon.

“Being smart doesn’t stop you from being an idiot if you’re lacking common sense. And you currently are,” Ashlyn answered shortly, her frown reappearing at Damon’s cough. The floor was probably cold which just proved that Damon was more of an idiot than she thought. It wasn’t concern that made her cast a warming charm on the floor but rather a sign that she wasn’t as much of an idiot as him, Ashlyn assured herself mentally. “Yes, there are classes today. It is Wednesday and there generally are classes then. And no, this setting is not romantic, whether you’re ill or healthy. This is a classroom, used for learning and brewing potions. Or rather, it was before a new classroom was chosen.” With a sigh, Ashlyn strode over to the cauldron once again, turning an expectant look toward Damon. “I suppose you know how to brew this potion then. Care to pass along your knowledge to me?”

[Damon Graas R5]

“She knows her job I suppose. She’s just brutal the way she goes about think. Think she fought in the muggle World War II? I seems quite likely if you look at her. She’s mean I tell you, MEAN! Most Extremely Antagonizing Nurse! M. E. A. N. MEAN!” Damon stated loudly, with a firm scowl settled on his lips. Even is Ashlyn’s tone pointed out that she wasn’t going to question Morgana. Which was good. Damon supposed that her condition wouldn’t stay a secret forever from Ashlyn. But when and how it was to be revealed? That was Morgana’s decision. Damon didn’t really have much of a reason nor right to say anything now, even if Ashlyn would be mad at her later. Even though she would have no base to be, because it wasn’t his secret to tell.

“I’m not delusional! You said yourself at the lake that I was adorable and attractive! It was perfectly logical to conclude that I am hot!” Damon said vehemently, as he sat up and groaned as a wave of dizziness took over his senses, “Undressing?” Damon peered at himself and wondered for a moment. “Well, a guy undressing alone in an abandoned potions classroom. It does sound a little bit silly, doesn’t it?” A sudden idea hitting his head, Damon peered up and leered at Ashlyn, “But it doesn’t seem this silly idea anymore now that you are here. And if I could only get you to strip too, it would be a brilliant idea! Don’t you think? I do believe it’s romantic. Two young people, undressing in a Potion class that has been the centre of so many drama over years. The desperate sighs of girls after the Potions professor.” Damon grinned widely as Ashlyn removed the sleeve of her blouse and dabber his forehead with it. “Oooh, you’re already stripping too? Perfect! Though you don’t have to start with the sleeves. Feel free to take the entire thing off.”

“Therapy?” Damon frowned thoughtfully as he tried to process the reason, “But I didn’t think our relation was that far ahead we need couple’s councelling. Do we? Can I come? I’ll bring along a fuzzy purple elephant toy. Would you like that?” Damon whined and slowly climbed to his feet, as he swayed over to the nearest table, and laid down on its surface with a slight whine: “I am hot! Why did you have to warm up the surroundings even more? Unless you’re warming me up yourself, I want it to be nice and cool and windy. Maybe I should eat ice-cream. That’s cool? Would you feed me ice-cream, Ashlyn? I feel too weak without it.” And maybe, the rational part still alive somewhere in the back his head added, he was being delusional, but even so it would be nice to get Ashlyn closer to him.

“Classes? Why are there classes. I’m ill, so there shouldn’t be any. Who’d go to them anyway?” Damon complained loudly, as he swung his legs, hanging off the edge of the table with quite child-like innocence, as he pondered. He did know how to brew the potion. And if Ashlyn wanted to brew, then he would get part of the potion. “Oh, you’re going to be my nurse? I did always like you, you know. Will you wear a short white skirt and tube-top and that fancy little hat with the red cross too? Three-quarters of water to the cauldron, heat at boiling point, then add three spoonfuls of powdered Hypericum, a gram of powdered moonstone and 4 green aments. Stir clockwise until it turns purple, then add Firebloom blossom and let it simmer for 5 minutes.”

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

“Stop complaining about Madam Pomfrey,” Ashlyn scolded, biting back laughter. It wouldn’t do any good to encourage him, even if she did rather agree with him. “Just be glad that I haven’t dragged you down to the Hospital Wing yet, which was my original intention when I saw how awful you looked.” And indeed she still wondered if it wouldn’t be a bad idea because she was certainly not an expert in medical matters. But she wasn’t too bad at Potions so she could brew the potion he needed herself, which would probably be the best idea. In his current state, Damon would probably end up antagonising Madam Pomfrey and tempting the nurse to poison him.

“I said that other people considered you to be attractive and adorable,” Ashlyn corrected him instantly. “And you’re certainly not attractive at the moment. Being ill isn’t a good look for you.” Was being ill a good look for anyone? Ashlyn wondered idly. Perhaps somewhere there was someone who could look dazzling even when ill but Damon wasn’t that person, which was quite a relief. No one should look good when ill. It just wasn’t natural. “I’m not going to strip,” Ashlyn insisted firmly. “And take that perverted look off your face. I’ve already told you to not think about me naked and if you continue then I’ll hex you whether you’re ill or not.” Damon was a lot more annoying when he was delusional but he was still entertaining, Ashlyn decided with a slight grin. If only she could get him to stop thinking about her stripping! “I’ll use the other sleeve as a gag if you don’t shut up,” Ashlyn threatened with a stern glare.

“Not couples counselling.” Ashlyn looked exasperated and had to remind herself that Damon was ill and so she had to resist the urge to hex him, no matter how irritating he decided to be. “Yes, Damon, a fuzzy purple elephant toy sounds wonderful. I’ll buy you one next time I go to Hogsmeade,” Ashlyn humoured him, smiling to herself as she tried to figure out exactly why the fuzzy purple elephant had entered their conversation. Maybe Damon just had a fetish for fuzzy, purple animals. “You’re meant to sweat out a fever,” Ashlyn explained, glancing at Damon disapprovingly when he moved. “I know you want it to be cool but you have to stay warm. Ice-cream?” Ashlyn shrugged helplessly. “Yes, I’ll get some ice-cream for you while the potion simmers. Any particular flavour?”

Ashlyn smiled, amused by the simple child-like element to Damon’s argument. “There are classes because the professors don’t arrange their timetables around your illnesses. I’m sure you can complain about that when you get better.” No hexing or cursing or even smacking him, Ashlyn reminded herself quickly although she couldn’t stop herself glaring at Damon. “I’m no wearing anything but what I’m wearing right now. Sorry to disappoint you.” Her patience with Damon was slowly wearing thin but then he’d say something utterly ridiculous and her irritation would just drain away as if reminded of the fact that injuring an ill person was wrong. It was annoying, especially because Damon seemed to be rather perverted when delusional and Ashlyn had a tendency to blush whenever she felt flustered, and that happened pretty much every time Damon opened his mouth and something along the lines of her stripping or wearing a short skirt came out. “Right, the potion is ready to simmer. Do you still want that ice-cream?”

[Damon Graas R5]

“Well, you aren’t a puny girl. But I’m bigger than you and probably weigh more than you so I doubt you’d be able to drag me. Keeping in mind that the definition of the verb to drag does not have any mention of any magical aid in it. So thereby I challenge your claim and raise reasonable doubt that you couldn’t drag me to the Hospital Wing, especially not so if I wasn’t cooperating. Which I’m not going to do,” Damon concluded with a victorious smile, even as he laid back down again, spreading Ashlyn’s sleeve over his forehead again. It was cool at least. “I’m not supposed to be looking good while ill, unless it’s dramatically romantic fatal disease. Which I’m not planning to get. Whereas you don’t really consider me not the least bit attractive?” Damon mused slowly, a slight frown marring his face under the sleeve. That probably wasn’t a good thing, so that they were connected for life. As the popular saying went, what was inside mattered. But in reality, some physical attraction never hurt either.

“Shame,” was the only thing Damon remarked as Ashlyn removed stripping from possible activities, even as he smiled, “But perverted or not, you’d be worried if I didn’t think about the possibility. What sort of a guy would I be, if I didn’t think about a pretty girl? And you definitely are a beauty.” In fact, Damon thought, it was a wonder Ashlyn hadn’t caught his eye before. Sure, he didn’t look around nor chase girls. But Rister and Gabriel had a knack for seeing the prettiest girls, and even though he wasn’t actively ogling at anyone wearing a skirt, Damon could see a pretty face himself too. And Ashlyn was pretty. Even quite the classical beauty with blond hair, blue eyes, long and slender body, and a well-structured face. “Good, I suppose. Don’t think we have that many unsolved problems. Even if I find it quite unreasonable that you constantly want to maim me and claim that I need to be hexed, even though I’m always quite merrily innocent – and occasionally oblivious – of the reason. Gabriel’s the one posing as an angel, but I have the character of one,” Damon shared quite willingly and amiably.

“Buy me? What makes you think I don’t have one?” Damon demanded with an indignant huff, “It was my first display of magic. I was ill and demanded a purple elephant. And mom got me a boring pink one. I had to show her just what she had erred against! It’s somewhere in my wardrobe back home. It’s brilliant. And why on earth would I want some ice-cream? Bleh. It’s not as if I’m sitting in the sun right now. And it would make you leave. I do not want ice-cream! Besides the potion is hardly ready yet. After it has simmered for 5 minutes, add a puffer-fish spine, handful of cut knotgraas, stir counter clock-wise 8 times, then take out the spine, and add a drop of hellebore. Let it simmer until it turns red and then it’s ready. And theorethically vanilla. With some cranberry jam and cranberries on the side.” Damon gave a regal little nod to himself, satisfied with the choice.

Time-schedule not put up after him? True, but shameful. If he had a say here, classes would start later. Sitting up abruptly to glare at Ashlyn and correct the ways of professors didn’t seem to be the smartest idea however. His head swimming due to the abrupt movement, the nausea that had been settled comfortably in the pit of his stomach took over, as Damon simply threw up over the edge of the table. Not that there was much to throw up, seeing that he hadn’t managed to eat anything during the day yet. On the whole it seemed to clear his head a little though. Reaching over, Damon grabbed his wand and cleared the floor with a quick spell, with a mumbled “Sorry” to Ashlyn. Grimacing at the foul taste in his mouth, Damon rolled himself on his back again on the table, and throwing an arm over his eyes and the wet sleeve, groaned pitifully. “This is wretched,” he mumbled spitefully and having already forgotten his previous statement ordered, “And am I going to get some ice-cream or not?”

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

“You’re too ill to raise much of a struggle,” Ashlyn pointed out amusedly. “You’d probably just complain all the way there and throw up on my shoes at some point during the journey. And then I’d have to knock you unconscious in punishment not only because I’m really rather fond of these shoes but also because that would have the pleasant bonus of not having to listen to you whine.” But Damon laid back down and so Ashlyn merely tilted her head, examining him silently as she pondered the best answer to his question. “I’m a teenage girl and, as much as I would love to deny it, my hormones are just as active as other girls in our year. So yes, I do find you attractive. Unlike most of the other fifth year girls however, I can control myself so do excuse me for not ravishing you in your weakened state,” Ashlyn responded with a careless shrug.

“And you are most definitely delusional,” Ashlyn shook her head and rolled her eyes with a grin even as she crossed the room to check on Damon. She had five minutes until the next step so she had time to spare. “I’m pretty, but calling me a beauty is a bit of an exaggeration,” Ashlyn continued, leaning over and removing the cloth from his forehead momentarily to check Damon’s temperature. Slightly cooler but the potion would be needed to make any drastic change in his condition. Unsurprising and expected. “Damon, the one thing you never are is innocent. A painful hex would do you a lot of good sometimes. But not when you’re ill so I’ll refrain from injuring you for now. Don’t worry though, I’m making a mental note everything you’ve said to annoy me and I’ll hex you later.” Ashlyn grinned cheerfully, having no intention whatsoever of cursing Damon. There was little point to it when she would feel a fainter version of the curse through the bond. It was meant as a protective measure but it was terribly annoying when she was the one who wanted to hex him.

“You have a purple elephant.” Ashlyn’s amused grin flashed quickly. “That’s so cute. You should bring it to school for when you feel ill since you seem to want it now.” Ashlyn glanced at her watch and jumped up, crossing to the cauldron in a few long strides to drop in the puffer-fish spine and the knotgrass. “You’re the one who claimed to want ice-cream,” Ashlyn informed him irritably, her ire soothed marginally by the warm feeling accompanying Damon’s implication that he didn’t want her to leave. ...Six, seven, eight stirs counter-clockwise and then Ashlyn fished out the spine with a grimace. “Don’t bother telling me what ice-cream you want because I’m certainly not going to fetch it for you after you were so certain about not wanting any.”

A drop of hellebore and then let simmer until it turns red, Ashlyn repeated mentally, nearly dropping the bottle of hellebore at the sound of vomiting. She swore quietly, added the drop carefully and then spun around to face Damon. “Don’t apologise. It’s hardly your fault that you’re ill. And no, you’re not getting any ice-cream,” Ashlyn informed him as she perched on the edge of the table, brushing Damon’s hair away from his face gently. “Jigger,” Ashlyn called quietly, snapping her fingers once, and was rewarded by the sight of the head house-elf from her Hogsmeade residence. “Chicken noodle soup and vanilla ice-cream with cranberry jam and cranberries on the side for Damon. And an apple for myself, I think. You’re eating the soup first,” Ashlyn ordered Damon sternly when Jigger returned, handing the bowl of soup to him and keeping the ice-cream by her side, before biting into her apple.

[Damon Graas R5]

“Exactly. I’m weak and ill. You should cuddle me tightly to your bosom and comfort me,” Damon claimed loudly, momentarily distracted by the idea, before remembering he had had an other point too, “And I’m ill. Someone unconscious is always twice as heavy to be carried around.” Damon grumbled quietly somewhere in his throat: “Complaining? Whiny? Me? You should better get to use it. When I have a kid or two or half a dozen, they’ll be whiny too when they’re sick.” The proclamation would have been slightly more regal had Damon not been overwhelmed by a cough and then a need to blow his nose after that. Ah, being ill was nasty. Even more so, if you weren’t used to being ill.

“You think I’m handsome. You’d like to kiiiiii-iiiiss me,” Gabriel beamed merrily towards Ashlyn at her response, “And don’t worry. It couldn’t be called taking advantage of if the other party is participating willingly.” Feeling the coolness of the sleeve rising from his forehead Gabriel cracked his eyes open and winked at Ashlyn: “And beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. Or beer holder. Or in the hand of the girl stealing away the wet sleeve she gave me as a sign of her devotion. I say you’re a beauty, so you are. Hex anyone who doesn’t approve.” Damon sighed, and closed his eyes again, crossing his arms over his chest quite repentantly: “But I think I’ll refrain from asking you to undress with me. I should leave that for sometime when I’m feeling slightly better myself. Maybe it would be smarter for you to go to class anyway. I might be contagious.”

“Handsome and cute? What else could you ask for?” Damon mused out loudly, groaning as he pulled himself slowly into a sitting positions as Ashlyn seated herself on the edge of the table. A grimace shading his face for a moment, Damon merely stirred the soup placed before him: “I strongly dislike soup. It’s far too liquid-y. Isn’t the point of being ill in not having to eat or do stuff you don’t like? Without considering drinking appropriate potions to recover.” Raising his head, Damon offered a weak smile to Ashlyn, before nodding at the potion: “Could I at least get to drink a bit of Pepper-Up potion first? I’m afraid I might not keep the soup down otherwise. I don’t like Pomfrey, she IS mean, but I’m not a fan of going through illnesses muggle-style either.”

Accepting the potion from Ashlyn, Damon drank it with a slight grimace, knowing that his ears were going to smoke for a little while. But he felt his condition improving in a matter of moments. “Snape would have told you that you added too little knotgrass. I’ll tell you thank you,” Damon told Ashlyn, with a faint smile, reaching his hand over to squeeze Ashlyn’s quickly, projecting some of his thankfulness over to the girl, before picking up the spoon. He didn’t like soup, but he was hungry, so he ate, even as he winked at Ashlyn, knowing that it would infuriate the girl. “Besides. I have to point out that you did get ice-cream the way I like it in the end still. I can’t let that go to waste now, can I?”

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

“I’m not cuddling you at all, whether you’re ill or not.” Ashlyn scowled at Damon sternly. How was it possible for someone to become even more perverted when they were ill? “I’m a witch,” she pointed out dryly. “I could just use a spell. That’s the greatness of magic: being able to force an idiotic Ravenclaw to go to the Hospital Wing when he’s ill and being stubborn.” Ashlyn frowned slightly, her head tilting in confusion. “What do I have to do with your future children?” She inquired curiously. Was he planning to make her a godmother or something of the sort? Hopefully not, if Damon’s kids were going to be as whiny as him.

“I want to do nothing of the sort,” Ashlyn proclaimed firmly, an embarrassed blush spreading across her face. “My sleeve is not a sign of devotion. Though I am starting to wonder if you really have been holding beer recently.” Despite her protests, Ashlyn smiled at Damon warmly after he closed his eyes, her right hand absent-mindedly smoothing his hair gently. It was always nice to know that someone thought she was beautiful, even if he was ill and not really rational at the moment. “You can ask me as often as you want, I’m not going to undress with you unless you give me a ring and a marriage certificate. I’m an old-fashioned type of girl. And I’m not leaving you to suffer alone, no matter how annoying or perverted you are.”

“A bit of common sense, perhaps?” Ashlyn suggested wryly, keeping a sharp eye on Damon in case he needed her to steady him. “Soup is good for you when you’re ill. And chicken noodle soup is amazing so don’t be ungrateful or I’ll eat your ice-cream.” She had forgotten about the potion, Ashlyn accepted with a sheepish smile as she slid off the table and ladled some of the potion into a vial. It didn’t look at all appetising. She certainly didn’t envy Damon for having to drink it. Ashlyn finished the apple and banished the core as she watched Damon drain the vial. “I’ve never been excellent at Potions but I do well enough to not poison anyone,” Ashlyn shrugged carelessly, confident in her decent potion-making skills.

Ashlyn acknowledged the feelings of thankfulness from Damon with a small shrug. She had done little more than make him a potion and bring him some food. It wasn’t anything to be thankful for. “I was going to give you the ice-cream but after the way you behaved and all the perverted comments you sent my way...” Ashlyn smiled innocently and set the bowl of ice-cream in her lap, lifting the spoon to her mouth. “It does taste quite nice. I think I’ll eat it instead of giving it to you,” she grinned merrily, mischievous blue eyes watching him as she lifted a spoonful of ice-cream to her mouth once more.

[Damon Graas R5]

“You could use a spell. But I think we agreed previously that the definition of the world drag doesn’t consists of any use of magic,” Damon countered with a light smile at Ashlyn, as they reached the first point of logical deduction. Or at least one of the first that had started the discussion anyway. “Besides I have all the right of being stubborn. You want to take me to madam Pomfrey – that woman is evil, as I proved to you before already.” Damon glanced at Ashlyn, but her expression seemed to be seriously confused as well. What she would have to do with his kids? Well, a whole lot most likely. Even if he would probably have to work on the idea of them together quite slowly. He had a suspicion that if he suggested starting to increase the local population now, he would be left behind bruised, bleeding, and in a whole lot situation than he was now.

“Be it as it is, I do seem to owe you a new blouse,” Damon said with a light smile, absently trailing his fingers up Ashlyn’s arm, from where she had ripped off the sleeve, “And I don’t drink beer. Call it Italian blood and inheritance or simple good taste, but I prefer a glass of wine if I do drink. And if I feel the need to drown my worries in a bottle, I’ll go and drink some whiskey or scotch until I can’t drink anymore. They will mess up my system as effectively, but – unlike cheap and low quality drinks – I’ll know that after I’ve somehow survived the hangover later on, my organism is still in the same shape it was before. Not that I have ever done it, just for general information.” Damon closed his eyes, relaxing a bit more as he enjoyed the sensation of Ashlyn’s fingers slipping through his hair.

“I’d need your yes and signature before I could even have a marriage certificate produced,” Damon murmured. Even if one day he would most likely produce the ring. He had had time to think and little time to get to know Ashlyn. Reason told him no one else would want him with someone so closely bonded to him. SO his options were either marrying Ashlyn or living his entire life alone. Out of those options he was quite sure that he preferred marrying Ashlyn. At least he wouldn’t be bored then. “Why is soup better than other foods when you’re ill? I’ve never seen the logic of it,” Damon questioned lazily, as he lifted some spoonfuls to his mouth and ate. The soup was good, admittedly, but that didn’t make him any fonder of it. Even if he spared time for a sigh towards Ashlyn between two spoonfuls, when she banished the apple-core: “Why don’t people bother to eat the core? The phrase an apple a day keeps doctors away? It’s true, but it’s the apple seeds that are healthy. And the core isn’t that big, nor that strong that your teeth couldn’t handle it.”

“Temptress,” Damon accused with a slow smirk started to appear on his face, as he watched Ashlyn eat the ice-cream. Letting his spoon fall into the bowl of soup, Damon stood up slowly. It wasn’t that much that he craved ice-cream right now. But rather the principle. Besides. If Ashlyn was in a playful mood, how could he let it pass just that easily? Damon slowly stalked around the table towards Ashlyn, a glint of something in his own eyes as well. A sudden charge forwards, left Ashlyn trapped against the edge of the table, with Damon’s hands resting on the table on either side of her. “Haven’t you heard that you should share?” Damon questioned lazily, his eyes trailing down at the spoonful of ice-cream she had scooped up. Using his right hand, Damon bent slightly and guided the spoonful to his mouth, chewing lazily before swallowing, all the while keeping his hands on Ashlyn’s waist. “I do believe trying to overthrow my command on ice-cream demands punishment though. Are you ticklish, Ashlyn?” Damon wondered, letting his fingers dance over Ashlyn’s ribcage in a light tickle.

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

Ashlyn lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “We have magic, we might as well take advantage of it. And Madam Pomfrey is not evil. She probably just doesn’t like you.” And most likely with good reason since Damon seemed to be quite determined to prove that the nurse was evil. Though he still didn’t explain what she would have to do with his kids. Ashlyn glared at Damon mutinously, wanting to hear the answer to her question. Damon was hard enough to handle; she didn’t even want to imagine how difficult his children would be when they were sick. Although they probably wouldn’t be making perverted comments or trying to convince her that Pomfrey was evil.

“Don’t worry about it. My sleeve was sacrificed to a good cause,” Ashlyn assured him good-naturedly, instinctively jerking away with a shiver when she felt his fingertips trailing along her bare arm. “And please refrain from drinking yourself into a stupor while I’m bonded to you. I’d rather not feel the effects of your idiocy pass along to me because you couldn’t find anything better to do than get drunk.” And being forced to suffer through a hangover without even enjoying the oblivion of drinking the alcohol just wasn’t a fair deal. Ashlyn eyed Damon with amusement. “I think that if you were determined enough, you’d forge my signature and then hand it to me and demand that I strip.”

“Soup is just...it just is. It’s good for you. Don’t argue with me when you’re ill. Or at all. There is logic in there somewhere and it’s not my problem that you can’t see it.” But at least he was eating it, despite his protests and arguments. Chicken noodle soup was great, why was he complaining about having to eat it? It was better than some of the other soups Jigger tried to offer her when she was ill. At least it had some solids in. “I don’t like the core,” Ashlyn explained simply. “And, unlike you, I’m not ill so I don’t have to eat things that I don’t like. It’s great to be healthy,” she grinned widely as she teased him. “And it’s most definitely your fault that you’re ill. I wasn’t the one who decided that we had to take a swim in the lake. It might be summer but Britain never actually gets very warm, in case you hadn’t noticed. Even when it’s warm, there’s always a breeze.”

Ashlyn widened her eyes innocently, appearing shocked at the accusation. “You think I’m a temptress? Why? All I’m doing is eating ice-cream. And it really is very nice ice-cream.” Damon started to stalk toward her and Ashlyn drew back slightly, suddenly feeling almost wary. Ashlyn closed her eyes when he caged her in place, forcing herself to not follow her instincts and push him away forcefully. She hated being trapped but it was Damon and she had learnt to trust him to some extent so Ashlyn merely opened her eyes again and made herself relax. “I’m an only child. I never had to learn to share,” she informed him haughtily, unconsciously aloof as she fought against her instinctual response to push him away. Damon attempted to tickle her and Ashlyn regarded him with a smile, utterly unimpressed. “I’ve never been ticklish, fortunately for me.” If she had been, it would have been just one more weapon her various cousins would have used against her to punish her for intruding on their family life. And it probably would have been very hard to train herself out of being ticklish, which made her grateful that she had never had to try.

[Damon Graas R5]

“She doesn’t like me? Good. You can tell Pomfrey next time you see her that the feeling is mutual,” Damon stated with a scowl marring his faces. They were all protective of their sisters. And when Pomfrey’s interest in Morgana’s werewolf transformation without loosing her sanity took on the shape of testing spells? Why, they had thrown a fit. The Graas’ were dangerous for the windows of the Hospital Wing. “I can’t argue there. It was used for a good cause, but I still owe you a new blouse. Can’t have you running out of sleeves, in case I’ll need them in future occasions as well.” Damon stretched languidly, feeling a whole lot better now that the potion was taking its effect. Even if the light flow of steam out of his ear wasn’t possible his most favoured accessory ever.

“Drunken stupor. I’ll be sure to invite you over for a drink as well. Or will you be giving me reasons to reach that phase?” Damon asked, leaning slightly back and tilting his head as he smile charmingly to Ashlyn, the dimple in his left cheep flashing for just one moment. “Soup just is? I’m afraid that’s not good enough reasoning for me. See, it’s healthy to eat vegetables for vitamins, and to eat meat or fish for proteins, but why exactly is soup good for me? It has far less of good stuff in it, due to it being prepared and boiled,” Damon countered with an easy grin. At least Ashlyn seemed to feel relaxed enough around him now to tease a bit. It was a good start. Probably helped along by the bond between them. “Proper reasoning, ma cherie, not mere ‘soup just is’.”

“You prompted me into dumping you in the lake. And I had a nice hot shower after that, so it was hardly the cause of my illness. I believe I’d rather put the blame on the evening when I got soaked during a running trip. And instead of managing to get dry and warm after that I got stuck with helping Morgana with a concealment charm she was having trouble with, then Rister demanded attention and so it went.” Damon shrugged. He had been ill so there was hardly much point in finding someone to blame. But it was all solved now after all. Damon peered down at the girl, who tensed between his arms. They had come a long way since they had first met, when she hadn’t even tolerated a simple touch, even though they came automatically to him. But there was no need to pressure the girl. Especially as she had been so nice and not shoved him away. Pushing himself backwards, Damon retreated two steps, and leaned against another table. Crossing his arms over his chest, he pouted instead.

“You not being ticklish was probably a good thing too. I’m not and I’m sure you’re feeling ebil – yes, I said ebil – enough to project the sensation into the bond. And temptress,” he affirmed with a sulk, before turning large puppy-eyes (even if puppies usually didn’t have grey eyes) towards Ashlyn, the soup long forgotten, “But now is the perfect time to learn to share? Will you, pretty-pretty please with a kiss on top, give me a bite of the ice-cream?”

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

Damon was obviously obsessed with Madam Pomfrey so Ashlyn gave up. Teenage boys and the objects of their obsession were a dangerous thing to come between so she wouldn’t even try. Though his reasons for wanting her to dress up as a nurse did make a lot more sense now, when she thought about it. “I should have just used your shirt,” Ashlyn commented, her gaze resting on it for a few seconds before she pulled her eyes away upon realising that it looked like she was gazing at Damon’s chest. Some of the buttons had been ripped off when he had felt too hot anyway so it was already partially ruined. But then Damon might have thought that she was participating in his inane suggestion of them both stripping and she probably would have given in to her urge to smack him.

“I’m not getting drunk with you. Ever.” Ashlyn told him sternly. “You’re perverted enough with your inhibitions being lowered by alcohol. I would have to be an idiot to put myself in that situation.” She wasn’t a big fan of drinking anyway. It loosened her self-control and Ashlyn hated to lose control. It made her feel insecure and that was always a dangerous route to travel down. She had always had to be in control of herself because that was the best way to manipulate others and therefore the best way to survive. “My reasoning is always proper, no matter what it is. So when I say that soup is good just because it is; you have to agree with me because I forbid you to argue with me. And since I’m the one looking after you right now, you have to obey me.”

Ashlyn’s eyebrow arched unconsciously but she decided against questioning the use of the word ebil. He was ill, it was pardonable. And she probably wouldn’t want to hear his explanation anyway. Plus, he had stepped away from her enough that she could force herself to truly relax. It did somewhat annoy her that she had been so obvious in her discomfort though. “You can have the whole bowl, as long as you keep your kisses to yourself,” Ashlyn informed him coolly, placing the bowl in front of him before picking up her bag from its resting place by the door. “If you’re feeling better then I expect to see you in Transfiguration. Don’t forget to clear up the potion supplies,” she advised helpfully before leaving. Charms was probably already half-over anyway so she might as well go back to the dorm to pick up her homework for McGonagall since she had forgotten to grab it this morning.