Ferula
The early December morning rose outside the window of the flat; the sun shining in and engulfing the rooms with light. The snow was falling – slowly, slowly – each crystallised flake unique as it singled down towards the ground.
Inside, Fred Weasley laid under the warm comforter of his bed, being awoken first when the light shone directly onto him, making him blink and yawn before coming to his senses.
He stared up at the ceiling as he stretched his back, enjoying the warmth his bed had to offer before he was expected to get up. Then, in a second, everything from yesterday evening dawned on him, and his eyes widened, his face heating up.
"Oh shit."
-
This was the day Leigh had been working towards for weeks. It might seem obsessive, but she had early on decided that her success in Advanced Arithmancy would somehow determine her overall success her final year at Hogwarts. She had studied, revised, paid attention and written essay after essay to try and get the knowledge to sink in. Despite it being a mock exam, Leigh saw it as the moment of truth. It was now or never. Was she cut out for academic success or not?
The day outside was cold. It gave mixed signals: both the sun and the snow coexisted outside her window.
She had woken up early. The mock exam wasn't until after lunch, but she needed to stay disciplined throughout the day. There was still Arithmancy topics she wanted to go through a final time before the test, and she needed to plan her day to know exactly where she had a few minutes to spare to do exactly that.
She got dressed quickly and started collecting her books for her upcoming classes. Her eyes caught sight of something hanging on her dresser: Fred's jacket.
Her thoughts instantly went back to yesterday. His presence, his words, the embraces. She quickly shook her head, refocusing her attention on the day before her. She shoved the jacket in her bag – hopefully she'd be able to pop by and leave it sometime during the day, or perhaps after classes. She wouldn't want to hog it for several days before returning it.
With a sigh she grabbed all her things before rushing down the stairs, grabbing an apple from the great hall before getting seated in the library. At least 20 minutes to spare before her first class of the day.
-
Her second class of the day was Potions, and she maintained her focus as she made her way to the designated classroom. Ron, her usual partner for Potions, rushed into the classroom about 1 minute before class started, chatting about Merlin knows what.
As Leigh went to retrieve her notebook and Potions textbook from her bag, she was again reminded of Fred's jacket. Maybe she could return it during lunch? Although she would be thankful to have that time to revise before the test, which was straight after lunch. She bit her lip in thought.
Class started, and everything went as expected. They had started to venture into the more advanced parts of the curriculum, but Leigh was still confident about today's topic, and her mind automatically started to wander as she prepared the ingredients.
Ron talked intermittently, and Leigh mostly replied with some brief 'hm's or 'yeah's, although she had no clue what he said most of the time. Instead, she thought through some Arithmancy content. She reminded herself of the things she still needed to go through, and a wave of frustration rushed through her. Another two hours to go before the test, and the stress started to thump in her ears. She gritted her teeth together, not paying as much attention as she normally would as she continued working on the ingredients, letting the knife in her hand slice through some items on the board in front of her.
Before she knew it a searing pain erupted from her hand, and she immediately dropped the knife onto the board. She instinctively used her other hand to grasp onto the open wound. Shit.
Ron yelped beside her, and Leigh squeezed her eyes together, feeling the velvet liquid drip through her fingers. Shit. She felt like rolling her eyes. Of course this had to happen today of all days.
Professor Slughorn was quick to approach her, shaking his head disapprovingly, as if he knew this would've happened sooner or later.
"Have I not told you to take it easy during the preparations, Ms Conway," he spoke with a strict tone, although his face showed signs of concern.
"Yes, you have, Professor," Leigh groaned, still holding onto her hand. She still hadn't checked how bad it was, but God did it hurt. The type of pain that shoved the air out of your lungs for a second before you were able to control your breathing.
"Let me see," Slughorn said as he grasped her hand, the rest of the class seeming to gather around to witness the turmoil.
Sharply inhaling, Leigh removed her own hand from the wound so that Slughorn could see better, and red liquid immediately started to drip down onto the floor again.
"Oh Dear," Slughorn exhaled. "That's not good. All fingers are left, thank Merlin, but it's not good. It's deep, yes."
He quickly mumbled 'ferula', the bandage spell, and Leigh's hand was tightly wrapped with a bandage after only a second. The pain subsided only a bit, and Leigh looked up at the Professor.
"Go and get that to Madam Pomfrey’s right away. I've never been very good at healing spells, and even so it's always safer to pop over, isn't it? Yes," he nodded to himself. "You're dismissed. Hurry over."
Leigh nodded, and angrily started to collect her things, throwing them in her bag and making her way towards the door. Ron asked if she wanted him to come along, but she quickly declined and slipped out into the corridor.
Although the ferula spell was known to reduce pain slightly after application, the wound still pulsated painfully under the bandage as she moved down towards Pomfrey’s.
She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, thinking over her next steps. There was about 2 hours until her test. As much as she wanted to have the hand fixed she also knew that Madam Pomfrey would keep her for as long as possible before Arithmancy, making it impossible for her to do some extra revision and drop the jacket off by the twins.
She bit her lip and looked down at the bandage surrounding her left hand. She knew the potential harm of doing healing spells, especially when she was rushed and stressed, and knew this was something Madam Pomfrey had to do. Surely it could wait until the end of the day? She was right-handed after all, and this would give her another hour or so to revise.
She hade her decision, and pointed her wand towards her hand, mumbling a numbing spell before dashing down the stairs and starting her journey towards the twins' shop. The quicker she could drop off the jacket, the quicker she could finally sit down undisturbed in the library before her test.
-
Leigh barged into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes not many minutes later, slightly out of breath and tightly holding her hand into a neat fist at her side in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The numbing spell made her hand feel exactly that: numb, much to her relief.
The shop was empty as she entered, and she remembered this to be the case last time she visited during the day as well – visitors picked up around lunchtime.
She assumed the twins were upstairs, and her assumptions were confirmed when she saw someone peeking out from the top of the stairs leading to the flat.
"Hey you, come on up," Fred's voice rang out, and Leigh gulped but was quick to make her way up the stairs, covering her slight nervousness after yesterday's moments with a smile.
"Hi," she said, pushing some hair behind her ear as she entered the flat. Fred had moved and was now standing by the kitchen area while George, clearly the one most hungover of the two, laid sprawled out on the couch, hand over his eyes.
Instead of a greeting, George groaned before shushing them both.
Fred chuckled at his brother's state. "Sorry about him," he said before lowering his voice, adding: "Told you it hit him worse."
Leigh slightly chuckled at the sight. She walked over to where Fred stood by the kitchen counter. "But you're feeling good?"
"Good might be an overstatement, but yeah, I feel alright," he replied with a grin.
She simply nodded in response, biting her lip, before she reminded herself of why she was there in the first place. "Right," she mumbled to herself, reaching into her bag before pulling up Fred's jacket. "This is...yours," she trailed off awkwardly, passing the piece of clothing over to its owner.
"Oh thanks, there really was no stress," he said honestly, and Leigh shrugged. She should've started walking away right after she passed him the jacket, put as the seconds ticked by it became more and more awkward to say goodbye.
Sensing the tension, Fred spoke first. He almost looked a little nervous, and his voice was gentle as he spoke quietly.
"Are we okay after yesterday?"
The tense atmosphere seemed to start to crumble as Fred addressed it, and Leigh let a small, relieved smile grace her lips. She nodded. "Yeah." Shuffled on her feet. "Thank you for coming with me," she added quietly, referring to him joining her to sit outside the great hall.
"Of course," he said and softly pulled her into a side-hug, which she quickly reciprocated. "Whenever." He looked at her with care and quietly continued. "And if you go on any other midnight adventures and want some company, feel free to drag me along."
She nodded. He probably remembered that she mentioned going down alone to the great hall in the dead of night more often than she'd like to admit.
"I'm great at sneaking around as you may already know," he said, attempting to lighten up the otherwise dark topic. "I have references." He nodded towards George, who only groaned in pain at the headache he was currently experiencing. It seemed like he didn't want to be involved in the conversation at all. Fred frowned at his brother's response. "Incoherent references, but references still," he added.
She let out a laugh, not moving away from Fred but rather leaning closer as she giggled at the view of George.
"Yeah, I've heard of these sneaking activities, as have every other student at Hogwarts."
Fred sighed dramatically as he thought back to those days. "I feel bad for the first years not knowing about us and all the crucial work we've done through the years. They truly missed out."
Leigh rolled her eyes at his theatrical performance, a faint grin remaining at her lips. She reached up to scratch the side of her neck as she contemplated how to say goodbye. She'd stay longer if she could.
"What's that?" Fred suddenly asked, pointing towards her hand, where the bandage was still neatly wrapped around her gash. The numbing spell was still in place, as she barely noticed she had used her left hand. The red liquid had started to seep through the bandage, and a smudged red spot had appeared upon the previously white fabric. "That looks painful," Fred added with a grimace, looking up at Leigh.
"Oh," she started, waving her hand slightly. "Just an accident in Potions. Going to go and get it fixed."
He nodded, but his eyes stayed on the bandage. "You dont want me to take a look at it? I can proudly say I've fixed countless scraps throughout the years - mine and George's shenanigans."
She could imagine they had taken care of themselves after countless Quidditch-related injuries, or any other dumb and risky predicaments they had probably put themselves in more than once.
She let out a chuckle. "I bet, but no I have to rush." When he didn't seem too convinced, she continued. "I've planned to rush up to Pomfrey’s later today. She'll get it sorted." Leigh placed a hand on Fred's arm, silently thanking him for the offer. He finally tore his gaze from her bandage, instead shifting it to her other hand on his arm before looking up at her.
"Okay, alright," he exhaled. "Your loss though," he smirked. Yet he couldn't shake off the feeling of her hand on his arm. And just like that, the touch was gone.
"I have to go. Just wanted to return the jacket."
"Alright. Yeah," he said as he watched her inching closer to the exit of the flat with a smile, carrying her bag with her. He gave her a small wave, George doing the same from his spot on the couch, his other hand still lying over his eyes. "See you."
Fred watched as she disappeared around the corner, hearing the sound of her steps down the stairs, and finally the bell as she exited the door.
Fred immediately sighed at the sound, reaching up to rub his eyes. George glanced at him from underneath his hand on the couch. Despite his exhausted state, he still looked amused.
"You dont want me to take a look at it?" He mimicked Fred in a high pitched voice, prompting Fred to look at him with a dead stare. He didn't look amused, which made the situation even funnier to George.
He pushed himself up on the couch, looking at his brother curiously. "What happened yesterday exactly?"
Fred huffed. "Nothing." He rubbed his face, and George kept looking at him like he knew where this was going. Fred sighed again, feeling his twin's gaze burning holes in his skin. "I dont know..," he trailed off, thinking back to yesterday's events. "It was really...nice."
George's smile suddenly grew, his voice hoarse and his expression still exhausted. A glimmer of mischief appeared in his eye as he started to catch on. "You care, don't you? About her?"
Fred didn't look at him, letting the question hang in the air as he bit his lip. He didn't want to reply, but deep down he knew the answer.
George kept looking at him with a grin, which kept growing by each passing second. "Come onnn," he pushed impatiently.
"What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I care. I know you do too," Fred spoke, attempting to sneak his way out of the question.
"I do," George was quick to reply. "But I think maybe you care about her a bit more than I do, wouldn't you agree? God, I thought there was some flirting going on but this- this! I mean you're sending her morning owls!"
Fred rolled his eyes, wanting to sink through the earth. "That was just once, I–" Fred trailed off, looking towards the stairs after her again, almost frozen, thinking over what happened yesterday; thinking about what he felt the second she stepped into the shop just minutes ago.
With a groan he finally gave in, tilting his head back and once again letting his palms cover his face. The thoughts coursed through his mind like wildfire. "Fuck."