A Problem Shared
a Harry Potter story
by Vignette
"This is ridiculous." Philip Turner threw down his quill with uncharacteristic force and stared hard at his friend Cedric Diggory across the common room table. Cedric was staring into the fireplace with a very distracted look on his unusually pale face. He had barely written three inches of his Herbology homework, despite having been working on it for the best part of an hour. Philip had to shout his name twice before he snapped out of his daze.
"Sorry," he said. "I was miles away."
"Thinking about a Quidditch match, by any chance?"
"What Quidditch match?" Cedric replied, attempting nonchalance. By the way that Philip raised his eyebrows in response, he knew that he had failed. That was one thing about Hufflepuffs; they knew their friends very well. Lying convincingly was almost impossible. "Honestly," Cedric protested. "I haven't been thinking about it. Well, not much."
"I knew it; you've been quiet all day." Now it was Cedric's turn to look disbelieving. "Even quieter than usual then. Nobody blames you, Ced."
"I blame myself," Cedric said, turning back to the fire. "It was bloody ungentlemanly to catch the Snitch that way. I should have made them replay the match. There must have been some rule that got broken…"
"If there had been, you would have found it by now." Cedric was about to protest, but Philip cut him off. "Don't tell me you haven't been pouring over 'Quidditch Through The Ages' during every single free period since Saturday, to try and find some precedent for a Dementor invasion of the pitch. And all night too by the looks of you." Cedric ran a hand wearily through his chestnut brown hair, realising that he must look as tired as he felt. So tired that he couldn't have concentrated on his homework, even if he hadn't been distracted by visions of Potter falling from his broomstick replaying in his mind. The gnawing headache that was plaguing him didn't help either. He looked back at Philip to see the other boy smiling kindly at him.
"Go to bed, Cedric. At least try to get a decent night's sleep." Cedric smiled back and began to pack his textbooks away in his satchel. "And promise – no more studying of the Quidditch World Cup of 1856," Philip added, his smile widening. Cedric found the energy to laugh weakly.
"Promise," he replied, swinging his satchel over his broad shoulder and heading upstairs to his dormitory.
When Cedric's alarm clock burst into song the next morning at seven o'clock, it dragged him out of a very strange dream. He was flying on his broomstick, not over the Quidditch pitch but in Greenhouse Five. And rather than holding the Snitch, he was grasping a Hellebore bulb, whilst Madame Hooch shouted at him that he shouldn't steal Potter's Herbology homework. Cedric's first thought upon waking was that he really should have finished the essay last night. His second thought concerned how tickly his nose felt, as if he was just about to…
"Hehh…. heh-Ashhooo! heh-Tsshhahh!" Cedric groaned as he sat up painfully. His whole body seemed to ache, just as it did after a particularly hard Quidditch practise. His limbs felt heavy and his head pounded dreadfully, far worse than it had done the night before. He sniffled as he found his robes and pulled them on, desperate to warm up in the cold dormitory. However, even when dressed in his school uniform and with his house scarf wound tightly around his neck, he was still shivering as he went to breakfast.
Most of Hufflepuff house was already seated at the table by the time he arrived. Cedric attempted to slip onto the end of the table unnoticed, but he couldn't avoid Philip's glance and was forced to join his friend, who was sitting with two of the third years, Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchly.
"I thought I told you not to stay up all night studying," Philip said, staring quizzically at his friend.
"I didn't," Cedric replied, before a large yawn escaped him. "Though I feel like I didn't sleep at all." Philip and the two third years suddenly looked up intensely.
"Don't you feel well, Cedric?" Hannah asked, sounding very concerned.
"Not especially," Cedric admitted, sniffling as quietly as he could. The tickling in his nose had returned, and much as he didn't relish the prospect of sneezing at the breakfast table, he could sense there was going to be little he could do to stop it. He only just had time to pull his handkerchief from the pocket of his robes before the sneezes struck again. "Hah-Mmptshh! Hhh-Ushhhuhh!"
"Bless you!" exclaimed Hannah and Justin, blushing slightly at their synchronicity.
"Sounds like you've caught yourself a pretty nasty cold there, mate," Philip said, a hint of sympathy underlying his gently mocking tone.
"Perhaps," Cedric said, not wishing to draw anymore attention to himself.
"Of course you have," said Ernie MacMillan, who was forced to lean around another student's back to join in the conversation in his usual rather pompous manner.. "If I were you, I'd go back to bed and try to sleep if off."
"No, a cup of tea will put it right," Justin suggested. "That was what the matron at my prep school always used to prescribe."
"Just have something to eat," Philip suggested. "Feed a cold and starve a fever."
"It's the other way around," Hannah said, correcting him. "Anyway, Cedric should go and see Madam Pomfrey. A dose of Pepper-Up should make him feel better in no time." It now seemed that advice was being dispatched from all over the Hufflepuff table, and Cedric was the focus of everyone's attention.
"Honestly, it's probably nothing," Cedric shouted, as loudly as his increasingly sore throat would let him. "Really, I feel…hhh… f-fine… Hahh-ushhhuh! Hhh-Mpushhuh! Ahhh-tushhh!"
"Bless you!" The chorus of voices now seemed to stretch the length of the great hall. Cedric blew his nose and sighed. It was going to be a long day. Lucky that he only had one lesson. Unluckily, that had to be potions, with Professor Snape, a man not widely known for his sympathetic nature. However, Cedric thought to himself, he might at least stop his friends pressing well meaning advice on him for the duration of the lesson.
But it was going to take more than Severus Snape to stop the Hufflepuffs doing what came naturally to them. Word had obviously spread along the breakfast table as, from the moment he walked up to the dungeon door, Cedric was inundated with offers of help by people who wanted to carry his satchel, lend him their scarves and ensure he got the seat closest to the fire. When he finally decided that he couldn't hold back the tickles that had been plaguing his nose and sneezed harshly, three times into his cupped hands, he looked up to find at least three people holding out handkerchiefs towards him. Of course, this did nothing to raise Snape's estimation of him.
"Are you suffering today, Mr Diggory?" the professor asked in a drawl that suggested he didn't much care if Cedric was on his deathbed.
"Do, id's just a tickle id by dose, Proffessor," Cedric answered, horribly conscious of how stuffy he sounded.
"Right, then I'd advise the rest of your house to stop doting on you in my lessons," Snape snapped. His head pounding even more after Snape's rebuke, Cedric attempted to concentrate on the Elixir to Induce Euphoria that he was brewing. But the tricky potion was made even more difficult by the fact that he was practically brewing it one handed, the other being taken up by wiping his streaming nose. It was as he was about to begin stirring it, that the sneezy feeling struck his nose again.
"hhhh… Haahhushhh! Ahhhutschhuh!" The powerful sneezes bent him double with their force. Feeling that someone was watching him, Cedric stood up slowly and found himself eye to eye with Snape. "Er… excuse be," he said, rather embarrassed.
"Are you sure you're quite well, Diggory?" Snape asked him again.
"I'b fide, Professor Sdape," Cedric replied sounding, he thought, even less convincing than before.
"Oh good," Snape said. "Because, were you ill, I would be unable to deduct house points from you for disturbing my lesson. But, as it stands, ten points from Hufflepuff." The Slytherins on the other side of the room snickered nastily, whilst the other students threw him sympathetic looks. Cedric shivered and looked at the clock; there was still half an hour of the lesson left to endure. Wearily, he turned back to his potion and began to stir it, with his other hand pressing his handkerchief to his nose.
By the time Potions was finished, Hufflepuff had lost another twenty five points, most of which had been Cedric's fault. His anger at Snape's unfairness was muted, however, by how bad he felt. He was alternately freezing cold and boiling hot, and his head ached from the pressure in his sinuses. His nose seemed to have gained the ability to be completely stuffed and constantly on the verge of sneezing at the same time. The sneezes, when they came, left him shaken and dizzy. And much as Cedric knew his friends were only trying to help, he didn't feel like being fussed over. Which was why, as soon as he got back to the common room, Cedric headed straight up to his dormitory and threw down his satchel. Snatching up his dressing gown, he walked purposefully to a place where he was sure that he would be left alone: the prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor.
Cedric was so relieved by the prospect of a relaxing bath alone, that he hadn't even considered the prospect of someone else wanting to do the same thing. After all, it was the middle of the day; most of the other students would have lessons, even the fifth and sixth years. So when he found that the word 'Engaged' appeared on the door in a curly font when he tried the handle, he felt almost desperate enough to break it down. However, with a deep breath, he threw his dressing gown on the floor and sat himself on top of it outside the door, resigning himself to the wait.
"hhh… haaaah…. Huhaahhshoo! UhhAshhoo! Huhhkatshhoo!" Alone in the corridor, Cedric didn't bother to cover his sneezes. A shiver ran through his body; it was cold sitting on the floor. He glanced again at his watch, fast running out of patience. Whoever was in the bathroom was certainly taking their time. Sniffling as he stood up, Cedric ventured a knock on the door.
"Are you going to be buch longer?" Cedric called at the door, placing his ear against it. From inside the bathroom he heard the faint splashing of water, before a voice from inside called out, "Alohomora!". Cedric heard the bolt draw back, unlocking the door. Relieved, he pushed it open and walked into the warm, steam filled room. "Thaggs," Cedric said gratefully, sniffling as he placed his dressing gown on a bench. "I was getting really cold id the corridor add I…oh…."
Through the steam in the bathroom, Cedric finally made out the face of the other boy, who was sitting in the large bathtub that dominated the room. He felt worse than ever when he saw Oliver Wood staring back at him.
"Oh… sorry," Cedric muttered. "I'll be going thed…"
"No," Oliver replied, sounding rather depressed. "You don't have to do that."
"I'b probably the last person you want to see right…" Cedric felt his breath hitch in anticipation of another set of sneezes, but he was determined to finish his sentence first. "Hehh… to see right… hhh… now. HahKushhhuh! UuhhHuschhuhh!" Cedric tried his best to muffle the sneezes into the cuff of his shirt, but they still echoed horrible around the room. He sniffled and rubbed his nose, feeling awkward.
"Bless you," said Oliver, offhandedly. "I'm not angry with you," he continued, looking slightly distracted. "In fact, I'm just angry at myself."
"Id wasn't your fault thad I caught the Sditch… I bean, thad you lost the batch," Cedric corrected himself quickly. "Of course it was!" Oliver said miserably. "I should have thought up a plan of action in case such an event occurred. It can't have been the first time there's been a Dementor invasion of the pitch."
"Actually, id is," Cedric said. "I checked in 'Quidditch Through the Ages'." Wood looked up at him quizzically.
"Why did you do that?" he asked.
"To see if I could find a reason to replay the batch," Cedric confessed. "Id felt really terrible, winning thad way." Oliver looked as if he never would have expected such conduct from one of his fellow Quidditch captains. A warmth crept into his eyes.
"That's very noble of you," he said. "I appreciate it." Cedric shrugged his shoulders.
"I didn't find adything," he replied, loosening his tie. The steam was beginning to work its way into his sinuses. Although this relived the pressure in them, it had the adverse effect of making his nose tickle even more than it was before. He sniffed and scrubbed at it, but to no avail. "Excuse be, I'm hahh… going to… hhhhAshhoo!… sneeze," he finished, before the rest of the fit struck. "HuhhAshhuhh! Ehhh… HehhAshhh! Huhhashhuh!… Hhhh… Huhshhhuuh!" Pulling his handkerchief from his back pocket, Cedric blew his nose several times.
"You don't sound very well," Oliver commented, when he had finished. "And you look about as miserable as I feel," he added, running his eyes up and down Cedric. Cedric was about to protest, but there was something very attractive about sharing his misery with Oliver, who wasn't exactly the picture of happiness himself.
"I've combe down with a code," Cedric explained. "Been sdeezing like that sidce I woke ub." Oliver nodded sympathetically. "I was hoping the sdeam frob the bathroob bight help, bud it seems to be baking by dose itch even bore," he continued, sniffling as if to illustrate his point. "So I probably won't be the best cobpany…"
"At least you aren't trying to cheer me up," Oliver said, darkly. "Besides, I'm hardly a bundle of laughs myself."
"At least you aren't trying to help be feel better," Cedric replied, laughing in spite of himself. Even Oliver allowed a small smile to linger fleetingly on his lips. The moment of peace didn't last for long though. "HehAtshhuhhh! HhhKushhhush!"
"Bless you," Oliver said kindly. He beckoned Cedric over to the edge of the tub and motioned for him to lean over. Gently, Oliver placed the back of his hand of Cedric's forehead, brushing back the wisps of hair that fell across it. A thoughtful look crossed his eyes. "I can't be sure, but I think you've got a temperature," Oliver told him. "You really should be resting in bed. Madame Pomfrey would have me strung up if she knew I'd not taken you to see her." He still hadn't removed his hand from Cedric's forehead. The two boys were silent for an instant, looking into each other's eyes, before they turned away, embarrassed.
"If id's all right with you, I'd rather stay here a bid longer," Cedric said. "I spend too buch tibe in the hospital wing as id is from Quidditch accidents."
"I know what you mean," Oliver agreed. "I'm not sure that there are any bones that I haven't broken at least once."
"So, id seebs silly to go there when I've only got a…heeehh…hhhhh… hhhAshhhooo! HuhhhUshhhuh! HhhRushhhuh!… a head code," Cedric finished, looking rather embarrassed. He blew his nose again, thinking that his handkerchief wasn't going to take much more abuse.
"I suppose," Oliver replied. "But you shouldn't have to suffer, even if it is only a cold." Cedric tried to hide his surprise at this comment. He would have thought that Oliver Wood couldn't care less if he was suffering or not. But Oliver didn't act as though he had said anything unexpected; he only continued to look at Cedric with concern and kindness. Cedric felt a strange sensation in his stomach that he was sure didn't have anything to do with his cold.
"You're right, it's no use sitting here feeling sorry for myself" he said, sniffling. "I'll go there now." Oliver eyes flickered upwards momentarily, as if an idea had only just entered his head.
"Yes, I am right, aren't I?" he said to himself, as if he had forgotten for a moment that Cedric was there. Then he seemed to remember that he wasn't alone and looked down into the water. "I mean… er… maybe I should take my own advice. Look, why don't you wait here a second whilst I get dried and dressed and then I'll come with you to the hospital wing." Cedric nodded and politely, if oddly reluctantly, turned away to allow Oliver to get out of the bath and put his school robes on. Once he was finished, Oliver fetched Cedric's dressing gown and together they set off.
The walk took a little longer than Cedric had anticipated; he kept having to stop to sneeze and blow his nose, which, combined with the corridors choosing to be extremely uncooperative, meant that their progress was slow. Still, Oliver was patient and by the time they reached Madame Pomfrey's ward, Cedric was glad that he had taken Oliver's advice. Glad that he had bumped into Oliver in the first place, actually. Which was surprising, he thought to himself, as he hadn't wanted to see anyone at all, especially not the one Hogwarts student he'd been afraid of bumping into since Saturday.
"Hello there, boys," Madame Pomfrey said brightly, if sounding slightly surprised to see them. "Not more Quidditch injuries, I hope? I had enough to deal with after Potter's fall on…" She stopped abruptly, as if aware that she had broached a sensitive subject. "But that's by the by, what can I do for you?" Oliver cleared his throat.
"Cedric's not feeling too…"
"HhhhUshhhuh! UuhhTushhuh!" Cedric sneezed, loudly. "Excuse me," he added, catching a glimpse of the same warm smile playing on Oliver's lips.
"As I was saying," Oliver continued as Madame Pomfrey began to fuss over Cedric. "He's not feeling well. Seems to have caught…"
"A very nasty cold." The interruption this time came from Madame Pomfrey, who was already reaching for a large bottle of potion from one of the many shelves above her. "It's a good job I've stocked up on Pepper-Up; you're the sixth student to come to me in this state today. I assume the rest of the school will all catch it by the end of the week. Now, Mr Diggory, open wide…"
"You're looking brighter than I've seen you in days," Philip told Cedric, eying him suspiciously at breakfast two days later. "In fact, brighter than anyone should when they have Arithmacy and then double Potions. Come on, Ced, what's the secret?"
"Nothing!" Cedric said honestly. "Well, maybe Pepper-Up Potion had something to do with it. And…" He paused, thinking how to phrase his next statement carefully. "And not dwelling on things," he settled for. Philip looked suitably bemused.
"Whatever works for you," he said, shaking his head. Cedric smiled. He knew what he had meant, and that a certain other Hogwarts Quidditch captain did too, judging from what Cedric had seen from the window of his dormitory last night. Oliver Wood had spent an hour drilling his team, all the time shouting to them that Gryffindor could still win the Quidditch cup and, what's more, they were going to.
He didn't look so bright this morning, though, Cedric decided as he glanced over to the Gryffindor table. Yes, he definitely looked pale and muttered something to Katie Bell, before shaking his head and getting up unsteadily. Cedric continued to watch Oliver as he crossed the Great Hall, beginning to realise what was wrong with him. Sure enough, before he reached the exit, Oliver stopped and cupped both hands over his nose and mouth.
"Huuuhushhhuh!" he sneezed, loudly enough for Cedric to hear over the chattering students. Then, looking even wearier, he rubbed his nose and shivered before continuing out of the hall. Smiling to himself, Cedric decided it was time to return a favour.
"Where are you going?" Philip asked, as Cedric quickly got up from his seat, leaving a piece of toast half eaten on his plate.
"Er… to return some advice!" Cedric called over his shoulder, as he hurried out of the Great Hall after Oliver. Philip rolled his eyebrows and threw up his hands in mock despair. Trying to understand some people just wasn't worth the effort.
This is my gift fic for tarotgal, for New Year's 2005/6. Sorry that it's late... and I hope it's ok that I put it here, because I couldn't think of anywhere else to post it! Anyway, Happy New Year and I hope you enjoy it. x