Work Text:
Becky loved Quidditch. She played for Ravenclaw herself. She was a Beater. It was only fair that she loved the sport. Tom did too. It was one of the things that had brought them together after a long, friendly rivalry that turned to flirting, that turned into the best relationship that Becky had ever had. Tom was kind, athletic, and charming. It was nice.
Today, Becky was getting a break from Quidditch, having unfortunately lost to the Slytherin team the weekend before. She had told Tom before the game to get his revenge on Becky’s behalf, and Tom had valiantly sworn to her that he would get the Snitch or die trying. Linda Monroe was the other seeker, and she pissed Becky off to no end.
Linda had come up to Becky in the hallway the other day, and with a snide smile, told Becky to ‘kiss her Tommy goodbye.’ If the headmaster hadn’t been standing right near them, Becky would have jinxed Linda into oblivion. She hadn’t told Tom about the confrontation, for fear he would do something to get himself in trouble, but Becky had sworn to herself that if Linda did anything to Tom during this game, Becky would end her.
She stood in the stands, leaning over the railing with Tom’s sweatshirt on. She could just about make out the figures of Tom and Linda on the field. She pushed her glasses up and watched Linda with concern. She didn’t like this whole game between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but she’d watch it for Tom.
So far, Linda didn’t seem to be trying to do anything to Tom, but Becky didn’t trust her for a minute. She let her eyes dart back and forth between Linda and Tom, arcing through the air on their brooms, as the crowd shouted and cheered around her. Becky watched, her knuckles white against the railing of the stands. She concentrated on watching Tom zip around, trying to be optimistic.
Gryffindor was up fifty points from Slytherin. The members of the Slytherin team were focused more on offensive maneuvers and attacking than defending their own goal, which was hindering their playing. Becky hid her smile behind her scarf. If they kept it up, Gryffindor was sure to win.
Then, the unthinkable happened. Linda made good on her threat against Tom and whipped out her wand. She flew past Becky, swooping close enough for Becky to hear her mutter a spell.
“ Imperius .”
If Becky had no self-control, she probably would have lunged at her. However, the fact she was a hundred feet in the air reminded her that if she tried, she’d be dead. And there was the added problem that Linda was now controlling Tom’s actions. He could get really hurt if things went wrong. Becky sat in the seats, her nerves buzzing and her eyes fixed on her boyfriend.
Fight it, Tom, she thought desperately. I know you can fight it. We were taught how.
Becky wished Tom’s school smarts actually kicked in on the Quidditch field. She knew he was smart, but he seemed to leave all his lessons behind on the field. She couldn’t blame him. Quidditch put a person in a certain mindset, all the focus had to be on the game and the strategy. But, with Linda casting an Unforgivable Curse on him, it made Becky’s stomach drop.
The worst part was that Linda wouldn’t pay for her actions. Ever since last year, the school had been run by corrupt Ministry members in the pay of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who were watching the scene with amusement. Linda could hurt Tom. She could kill him even, and there was nothing the higher-ups would do to stop her. The thought made her sick. Linda sent Tom diving to the ground, which made Becky gasp as she watched her boyfriend dive.
She shut her eyes as the students gasped. Then, there was silence. Suddenly, cheers began to erupt. Becky peeked an eye open to see Linda holding the Snitch with a proud look on her face. She groaned, pushing her glasses up. Linda had won by cheating with an Unforgivable Curse. And now Tom was nowhere in sight.
Coming down the stairs, Becky didn’t see Tom either. She started to panic, then thought for a minute before running back into the castle. Tom, sometimes, retreated to the castle to his dorm. The Fat Lady liked Becky, so she let her in when she reached the painting.
“Tom?” She called, her voice full of concern. No answer.
“He’s in his dorm-” The Fat Lady responded as the painting began to close, “He looked awful pale too, dear.”
“I’m going to go up and check on him,” Becky said, beginning to climb the stairs. Technically, girls weren’t allowed up in the boys’ dorms, but Becky had ways of bending the castle to her wishes. She’d studied enough to earn that right, she thought, and Tom needed her.
“Babe?” She called, knocking on his door. A groan came from the inside. Just hearing his voice, full of pain and weak as it seemed, was a relief. “Can I come in?”
“Mhm,” Came Tom’s voice. She opened the door. Her boyfriend laid in bed, pale and looking like he was about to throw up.
“What’s wrong?” She asked softly, coming over to his bedside and feeling his face. No fever-like hotness.
“Where do I start?” Tom groaned. “First that bitch used an Unforgivable Curse on me, which, don’t get me started on how much that sucked. Then I take a nosedive to the field at breakneck speed. It’s a miracle I didn’t break anything, actually.”
“It is a miracle.” She noted, inspecting him for a fever still. She noticed that his arms were cut and bleeding beneath his Quidditch uniform, and she winced in sympathy. He’d gotten scraped up pretty bad.
“You’re bleeding, babe.” She sighed, “Sit up.” She went into his bedside drawer. She’d stashed bandaids and other easy first aid things in there.
With a grunt of pain, Tom sat up in bed, and let Becky take a look at him. Besides a lot of cuts and bruises, Tom didn’t seem to be too hurt, and Becky let out the breath she’d been holding ever since Linda had muttered the spell. She gently helped him out of the shirt and inspected the cuts.
“These don’t look life-threatening, I think you’ll make it.” She cracked a joke to lighten the mood as she found the alcohol pads to clean them with. She heard him hiss when she gently began to wipe the cuts.
“I’m sorry,” Becky said as she felt him hiss in pain.
“S’okay,” Tom muttered, gripping Becky’s free hand. “You gotta do it.” She washed them before putting the bandaids on them. Sadly, the bandaids had little doodles on them because those were the only ones she could find at the time.
“Sorry. They have little doodles on them.”
“Oh I don’t care,” Tom said with a grin. “They have some style.”
“Good,” Becky said as she leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Because you’re going to wear them whether you like it or not.” He leaned back down, groaning.
“Beck, I feel gross-” He whined. Becky had to hide her laughter. She didn’t think her boyfriend got this whiny when sick.
“You’re awfully whiny,” she chided, giving him a teasing smile. “Are you always like this when you’re not feeling well?”
“Not when you’re around, usually,” Tom said, leaning back against the pillows. “But today I can’t help it. I’ve got the prettiest nurse, I’m allowed to whine a little bit.”
“You know you do,” Becky said. She felt his forehead again.
“Can I get kisses as a medicine?” He could still joke around, which was nice, it certainly put Becky more at ease.
“In a minute.” Becky’s fingers were still on Tom’s forehead. He was feeling a bit hot now. “Tom, babe, you’re hot.”
“I know that.” Tom winked at her.
“No-well, yes,” Becky let out a laugh. “But not like that. You’ve got a fever, Tom.” She rose and rooted around in the drawer again, coming up with a washcloth, she wet it with her wand. Satisfied, she placed it against Tom’s forehead.
Tom hummed appreciatively. “That does feel good.”
“Good.” She stroked his cheek with her thumb gently. “I’m sorry about Linda.” She whispered. The game left a sour feeling in Becky’s stomach. “Also, how long have you been feeling this terrible?”
“I felt sick this morning,” Tom admitted. “But I didn’t say anything. The game was going fine until she ruined everything. God, I hated the feeling of having that curse on me.”
“You didn’t need to play.” She whispered.
“I know,” he whispered back.
“Well, as your nurse, I’m giving you strict orders to do nothing but lie in bed.” She said matter-of-factly, putting her bandaids and alcohol pads back in the drawer, “Except for the bathroom.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tom said with a sleepy smile. “Will you stay with me?”
“Will your boys kick me out, Tommy?” She asked, stretching her arms out and putting her scarf and glasses on the bedside table.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“Good. Because as your nurse, I have strict surveillance orders.” She grinned, laying down in his arms. Even sick, Tom was a massive cuddler.
Soon, Becky heard his breathing even out as he fell asleep. Good. It had been a long day. She let her own eyes flutter closed as she curled up with him. He was a little sick, so if he got her sick, she didn’t mind one bit if it was because they were cuddling.