- October 18, 2005 -

Sunlight filtered through the long windows of the infirmary, gilding the dust as it settled in the bustle. Every bed was full, as there had been an outbreak of the flu, and Madam Pomfrey and the nurses under her were flitting from bed to bed, checking on the sick. 

Minho crossed the threshold of the infirmary with Kibum, tentatively moving along the wall to stand in front of the medicine cupboard. “Do you think we have enough time to wait?”

“Hopefully.” They had left lunch a little early so that Pomfrey could check to see if he bandages could come off, and they did have a free period before there next class. So...probably...but there were a lot of sick students. “Wait, is the Crowell?”

Minho stopped fussing with his bandage to look where Kibum was pointing. Sure enough, Professor Crowell was there, looking like she was either about to throw up or just finished doing so. He grimaced, looking back down at his hand and pulling away the bandage a bit to inspect the bruise. It was mostly brown now with yellowing spots, which meant it was healing, right?

“Do you think we should try to get someone’s attention?”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets so he would stop poking his bruise. “I don’t want to bother her. If I don’t get it off today, then I don’t.”

“Okay.” Kibum glanced around, eventually turning to look at all the bottles of potions in the cupboard. “What do you think these all do?”

It was hard to tell, as most of them were unlabeled. Well, the names of the potions weren’t written on the bottles, some of them just had pictures drawn on them, as if they were supposed to know which potion was which from a few symbols. 

“Why are you asking me? You’re the potions expert.” 

Kibum tried to hide his smile as he shoved Minho away from him. “Am not.” He looked back at the cupboard as Minho trotted back to his side. “What about this one, with the eye -- “

“Mr. Choi?” Both he and Kibum turned at the sound of Pomfrey’s voice. “What is it you need?” 

“Uh, I was just coming to get my hand checked, but if you’re too busy...”

“Nonsense.” 

She walked past them, shoving her sleeves up over her elbows, and washed her hands in the basin. After she dried them she rubbed a potion, probably some sort of sanitizer, on her hands and made her way back to them. Minho held out his bandaged hand for her, which she readily took and unraveled the bandage for herself.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” she asked, pressing lightly on the bones of his hand. Minho shook his head. “Clench your fist for me. Any pain?” He shook his head again. “It feels as though the fractures have fully healed, but if you feel any discomfort or pain come back and show me, all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kibum elbowed him in the side, raising his eyebrows when Minho glanced over at him. “Oh, right! Am I good to play Quidditch? I’ve got a game next week.”

Pomfrey sighed as she smiled. “Yes, you should be just fine. Is there anything else you need?” Both of them shook their heads. “Good. Get out of here before you get catch the flu yourselves.”

“Yes, ma’am!” They said before they darted out of the infirmary.