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Hello, My Name Is... by Irobbedgringottsandgotaway
Chapter 3 : Chapster
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1

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Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to JK Rowling.




James Potter's song of the chapter: Lost Without U by Robin Thicke




Simplicity55@tda (me)




"Alex, are you sick?"

"Nho. I'm not shick." Alex says, her sinuses clogged up, coughing again.

"Alex, you should stay home from work today. You won't miss anything, and you're really sick."

"Am nhot." She sniffles again.

I place my hands around her face. She's burning up. "Alex, you're really hot."

"Why shank you." She says, trying to be smart ass, but utterly failing, as her face is all flushed and her words come out without their usual confidence and luster.

"Alex, don't be a smart-arse. You have a fever." I insist.

She sniffles, and the sound ain't a pretty little snuff. It's a nasty snorty sort of sniffle. "I dho nhot!" She says indignantly.

"Okay, so then why don't you just hop on up from the sofa and i'll meet you at the front door in five minutes. Your coffee is right over there on the table, okay?" I say, cautiously, deciding to play along with her.

She nods from where she sits on the god-ugly sofa, wrapped up in the warmest, coziest quilt we have that she stole from our bed this morning shivering despite the heat turned all the way up.

She shivers again, and I walk backwards out of the room, carefully watching her to make sure she doesn't collapse when standing up.

"Sthob worrying abhout me! I can get ub jus fine!" She says, clasping the quilt around her as she slowly attempts to stand.

"Okay." I say warily. "You have under ten minutes until we have to leave for work, can you do it?"

"Yes. Ub course I cahn." She says, wiping her nose on the quilt.

I can't help but notice how cute she is right now, despite the germy snot she just rubbed into our most beloved quilt.

She moves up the stairway of our small two-story London flat slowly, trailing the now snotty quilt behind her.

I check my watch, running the coffee maker with a tap of my wand.

I hear the opening of droors from upstairs. There's a stumbling noise and a colorful expletive that ends up sounding like the Robin Williams movie about the bouncy green substance.

"Are you okay, Alex?" I holler up the stairs, my heart beating fast, concerned about her.

"Yeb. I'm jus fine. Totally and combletely aye-okay. No neeb to com ub here..." She says, but I'm already running up the stairs to the bedroom.

She's sitting on the floor in front of our dresser, in a pile of my old boxer collection and her work clothes, the quilt still around her, her reading glasses askew across her pink and puffy nose.

I sigh heavily. "Allright, that's it Alex. You're staying home today. I mean it."

She looks panicked. "No! I chan't! I habn't had a sick day since thirb year!"

"Well, that just makes today all the more nessacary." And with that, I scoop her up and lift up the covers on the bed at the same time, slipping her underneath them in the middle of the bed.

"No! Jabes! I'm fine! Realby!" She protests.

"No, Alex, I mean it. You're to stay in bed for the entire day. Understood? If I hear that you even considered getting up to do anything but make fluids or go the bathroom, I will call my mum."

Her eyes widen. "You woulbn't."

I nod. "Yep. I most definitely would, so I suggest you stay in bed and get better. I'll send Mrs. Lange over around eleven just to make sure you're okay. She'll be pleased to have someone to visit with."

She groans, but ends up coughing and having to blow her nose. Alex hates it when Mrs. Lange, the sweet old muggle lady that lives next door, visits. She always tries to care for her and pester her about certain uncomfortable subjects and complain about me.

I replace Alex's tissue box, tuck her into bed tightly, and kiss her on her forehead before charming the kettle to make her a cup of tea.

She manages to call me some choice words before I finally head out to work by myself.

It's around half past ten when a problem arises.

"James, did you know that Alex is sick?" One of the floor managers, Warren Gurding ask me.

"Well, yes. That's why she's at home resting right now. I sent the memo out this morning to the people on our team." I say, implying the 'duh' to my words.

"No, James, she's here, and she's bloody well sick. I was going to tell you to convince her to send her home, but..."

But I'm already up from my desk and looking all over the department for my very sick and stubborn wife.

I pass my dad, who's sorting through a bunch of papers as he walks past, not looking up in the middle of the hallway.

I catch his arm. "Dad, have you seen Alex?"

He looks up. "Hello James." He grins. "Yes, I saw her about forty minutes ago. Although she didn't look so good, is she feeling allright?"

"No she's bloody sick and supposed to be at home. Do you know where she might be?" I ask.

"Haven't a clue. But I might try the break rooms. Although she might have wandered off somewhere if she was really feeling sick." He suggests.

"Thanks dad, I'll see you later." I say, continuing down to hallway towards the breakrooms. But I am stopped as I hear a noise come out of the ladies loo. I cringe. Someone's being sick. And I know who it is.

I barge into the loo, to find Alex kneeling over a johnny looking green and a lot worse than this morning.

I sigh loudly. I walk over to her, and gently stroke her hair gently as she hurls the remains of her stomach into the porceclian goddess.

She sits back, leaning against the side of the stall. I sit back across from her, leaning against the toilet paper dispenser, rubbing circles into her calves with my thumb.

She smiles a little bit. "Remember that time back in what was it, sixth year? I was sick from something that went wrong in Potions, so I went and got that potion from Pomfrey? But it gave me that terrible nausea that had me upchucking in the boy's loo across the hall for a good hour."

I nod. Of course I remember.

"That was the last time I was sick. Technically, it was just side effects, but that was the first time being sick enough to hurl without my mother being there to hold me and stroke my back. But you, you of all people showed up. I couldn't believe it. I used to hate you. Really hate you. But not really, you know. You were just that irritating prick in my brain that I occaisionally had to deal with. But you were there for every moment I was missing someone. Whenever I was at my lowest, or highest, you were the one that happened to be there."

She laughs softly. She's pretty pale, and her hair is coming undone in the back, a couple strands hanging in her face. She sneezes. She doesn't sound congested, but towards the end there, you cold tell the cold medicine she must have taken was starting to fade away.

"You know, I was feeling fine until the damb cold mebicine started to wear ofb."

I smile at her, shaking my head. "You're incredible. Incredibly stubborn, but incredible."

She shrugs. "I try my best." She coughs.

I stand up. "C'mon, let's get you home."

She frowns, but sighs.

I scoop her up in my arms and carry her out of the bathroom and into the hallway where I apparate her straight back to the flat. I carry her up the steps and slip her into bed. She's shivering, so I fold the huge quilt over her. But she's still shivering, so I give up and climb in with her, wrapping my arms around her and holding her until she falls asleep.

But right before she falls asleep, she whispers, "Tbanks bor being there James."

"I'll always be there. It's in the job description."

{o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o}

The bathroom is empty as I enter it, as far as I can tell.

I make my way over to a station when I hear the ungodly sound coming from one of the far off stalls.

Someone's in here hurling their guts up.

I crane my neck to see who it is.

But it's girl shoes that peek out from the stall. I go over to inspect the intruder.

Well shuckle me darn and call me a parrot.

It's Alex.

And she's chucking up lunch from the looks of it.

"Who poisioned your wheaties this morning Johnson?" I ask coyly as she sits back. She turns sharply and once she realizes who it is, winces.

She very kindly tells me to F off. The unabridged version.

"Well, I would hate to leave a such a stricken girl in a time of need."

"Fine, stay here and watch me throw up my lunch. See if I care. It's only you." She says, very derogatively.

I flinch.

She pales suddenly, and is all of a sudden throwing up into the bowl again.

And even more suddenly, I am crouched behind her, somewhat tentatively, pulling her hair back, away from her face, tucking the soft tendrils behind her ear.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asks weakly.

"I have no idea." I say. Well, this is awkward.

Really wierd.

Completely unheard of.

"Well-" she starts, but is unable to finish, as dry heaves take over.

I wince, rubbing her back softly, awkwardly, like my mum or dad used to do when I was really little and sick.

She leans back again.

Well, this is wierd.

I'm missing Defense.

Damn. Guess I'm skipping.

"James- you don't need to, really. You should just go." She tries to say.

But I don't leave. I make up some half-assed excuse, and for the first time since she was a kid, Alex doesn't push me away. (okay, she does, but it's weak).

So I stay with her for the next hour, alternately just sitting there awkwardly, and pulling her hair back gently.

And It's definitely wierd. But, Something about that day was different.

We weren't Potter and Johnson, people who piss each other off, we were James and Alex. Just James and Alex.

And it kept happening more and more frequently.

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