James Potter was many things.
A good athlete, a loyal friend, and Gryffindor's golden boy.
For Victoria Atkinson, he was everything she hated in others. He embodied the values that have been impressed on her since she was little. And that's exactl...
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"I'm fine! ," Victoria said between coughing. Her feet were walking in an awful unsteady rhythm, her limbs seemingly too weak to even allow her to walk normally.
"You are ill! You have to lay down. ," Lily demanded, keeping up with Victoria a lot easier as her friend couldn't walk away as fast as usual.
Victoria snored, "No, I don't! I'm perfectly healthy."
That's what had gone on for hours now. Lily would fiercely demand that the girl should rest, and Victoria would only fight against that, even when her endurance seamed a lot weaker than she was used to.
Honestly, she knew she was sick. One advantage of always being cold, eventually you will catch a cold. She lived up on Pepper-up Potion since she was seven. In the beginning, it was their private doctor who brewed them for her. Eventually, he didn't seem as loyal to the family and seeing as they didn't hire one after him, Victoria had bribed a worker at st. Mungos to send them to her. Her grandparent had found out eventually, but rather than talking her out of what eventually had become an addiction, they made her stop paying that doctor and eventually hired a private potioneer for those exact matters. Yet then, she sometimes forgot to take them in the evening, and now, the man hadn't sent the ration for this month.
And with her brother refusing to brew it for her, not wanting to add to her addiction, she was left with the worst cold she ever had, and possible, and not so impossible, an addition of withdrawal symptoms. But rather than lying down, relax a little, she rather bared through it.
