Jamie quirked a brow and then followed Malcolm to his bedroom. Of course he came. A friend was sick and had asked him to come visit him. Why wouldn't he? Of course, he didn't want to get ill himself, but so long as it wasn't bad enough to send him to hospital again, he'd be all right. He'd deal. And besides, Malcolm had visited him when he'd been cooped up in St Mungo's. At the very least, he could return the favour. At the most, he could spend time with a friend, even if it ended up being him listening to Malcolm cough and hack and shoving potions down his throat in an attempt to help alleviate some of the symptoms of his cold.
In the room, he set a bag down on the floor by the bed, a bottle of orange juice on the nearest night stand, and tutted softly. "Really, you should dry your hair properly. It'll just make things worse," he fussed a little, pulling out his wand. He cast a drying charm on Malcolm's hair before he could protest before picking up the towel. "And do you want juice now or should I just put it up until later?" he asked, working on folding the towel so he could put it up. "Though you should drink something if you haven't in awhile. That is, of course, if you can keep anything down." He pursed his lips slightly, silencing himself so he didn't sound too much like a fussy hen.
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
