𤢠Hold my museâs hair back/Rub my museâs back while they are sick/throwing up (lycanthropyprofessor for Tonks)
Tonks felt nausea stir in her stomach as soon as she opened her eyes that morning. She blinked a few times, hoping it would pass; as she laid there, though, the feeling just got worse. For a moment she thought about nudging Remus awake, who was still sleeping next to her, but it soon became apparent that she didnât have time for that.
She pushed herself quickly up to sit, out of bed and into the bathroom. She couldnât help but groan slightly as she plonked herself down in front of the toilet just in time. Embarrassingly, she felt tears come, and she was well aware she wasnât going to be able to do this neatly. Her aim had never given great at the best of times.
Just as the sickness seemed to be reaching its peak, she heard movement in the doorway and someone call her name, before a hand reached down and scooped her hair out of the way.
Remus woke when he felt the bed the move as her weight shifted, he figured she just needed use the loo, then he heard the retching from the en suite his room at number 12 Grimmauld place had afforded him. That made him get up, now filled with concern.
He crouched down next to her, pulling her hair back. Poor thing, must have caught a bug. When it seemed like she was done he instead rubbed her back. âShh, Dora, donât cry.â
Finally Tonks sat back, leaning against the bathroom wall. She nodded hard, trying to push tears back. âIâm sorry,â she groaned. âThis is grim for youâŚâ She hiccuped, wiping her eyes with her hand. What she really wanted was a hug but she didnât want to spread her germs all over poor Remus.
Remus wetted a washcloth for her and handed it to her to, sinking down onto the floor next to her. âIâve seen much worse, believe me.â He put a comforting hand on her leg. âThink it might be best if you stay here today. Clearly youâre ill.â
She took the washcloth gratefully and wiped her face. She felt a little bit better but if she was being honest, definitely not her usual self. Still, she was sure she could manage. âIâm alright,â she protested quickly, trying to push herself up to her feet. Her arms wobbled, however, and she was forced to plop down on the floor again, sighing in frustration.
âIâll be alright in a bit,â she said, her voice grumpy. âI donât need to go back to bed, Iâm fine.â
âYou donât look it, so forgive me if Iâm not convinced.â There was an air of concern to Remusâs voice, watching her attempt to get up only failed to convince him further. He easily stood up and offered his hand to her.
âHere. Let me help you.â
