Potter

Chapter 99

"My back is sore. I think it has potentially been broken."

"I'm pretty sure you'd have more symptoms than sore if it had been broken, Theo," I sighed, even as my own spine ached when I attempted to straighten it out, lifting my arms high over my head. I wasn't sure how long I'd been leaning over the paper– eleven pages on the symptoms of lycanthropy and how to identify them– but my tea mug was now dry, and when I stood up my head spun from the new movement. 

Where he sat on the other side of the counter, head in his hands and eyes staring stubbornly down at his half-written paper, Theo sighed.

"I wish my spine was broken," he mumbled. "I bet it would get me out of writing this paper."

"If you break your spine to such a degree to warrant not being able to write a paper, you wouldn't be able to go to Teddy's birthday next week," I told him. Theo's brows furrowed in thought as he took this into consideration.

"The Healers could have me healed by then. I believe in them."

"If they can heal you soon enough for you to be ready for the party, you'd certainly be capable of writing a paper– you'd only be limiting the time you could spend writing it. Really, you'd be doing yourself a disservice," I hummed, setting my mug down in the sink before adding, "Not to mention putting yourself at risk for nerve damage."

"Damn magic," Theo huffed, then slid forward to rest his forehead against his paper in a defeated gesture. "This is exhausting. I should've just been a Death Eater."

"Theo!"

"I'm kidding!" He snapped, head popping up so his chin rested on the paper instead. He stared up at me, lips thin, nose crinkled up. "Not funny, I know."

"Draco would've hexed you," I said firmly, not at all in doubt of the fact. "You would've been stuck on the ceiling for a week, and you would have deserved it."

"Bet I wouldn't have to write my paper then," Theo reasoned, sipping from his tea. "But I see your point. No Death-Eater-jokes. Poor taste."

"Thank you," I chirped, offering him a small smile even as I set the kettle on for a new cup. "What time is it, anyway?" It'd been twelve the last I'd looked. Theo leaned back on his stool to view the clock that sat on the wall above his head.

"About four," he announced. "Three-forty-eight. Does that mean we can order dinner soon?"

"I suppose." It'd been a habit we'd gotten into, using take-out as a reward for the amounts of studying we had to do. "Thai, Chinese, or pizza?"

"Thai," Theo decided, looking as though he had already given this decision some serious thought. "I want the little cream cheese bundles. And the tea."

Theo loved the tea, and asked for it at every opportunity. I rolled my eyes but nodded, grateful that at least that our food tastes had aligned for the evening– if they didn't, we'd play wizard's chess to determine the meal. I rarely won, yet somehow still agreed to the game.

"I'll order it in a bit, then. Unless you'd prefer to call?"

Theo cringed. "You know I don't like muggle phones," he said. "They're complicated."

Just you wait, I thought. Then– "Fine. I'm ordering the minimal degree of spiciness, though. Your tongue might be able to handle fire, but I like to not cry while I eat my food. And you have to go pick it up."

"If you insist," he sighed, reaching up to start sliding his half-written paper into the communal homework folder, then doing the same to mine. We'd be able to take another look at them later, when we were well-fed and not prepared to break our spines. "It's not like I can just apparate or anything."