Thick of it : reboot

James woke up with a groan, every inch of his body protesting as he shifted slightly. His ribs felt broken, and his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He blinked blearily, trying to make sense of his surroundings. White sheets. The faint scent of antiseptic potions. A firm but not entirely uncomfortable mattress. Ah. The hospital wing.

"James!" Hermione's relieved voice cut through his haze, and before he could even turn his head, she was already at his bedside, clutching the sheets like he might vanish at any moment. "Oh, thank Merlin, you're awake!"

James tried to sit up, immediately regretted it, and let out a sharp, pained hiss. "Ouch."

Madam Pomfrey bustled over, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Oh, none of that, young man. You'll be staying right where you are. You've had quite the ordeal." She shot Hermione a look. "He still needs time to recover, girl. Let him breathe before you smother him."

Hermione had the decency to look sheepish, stepping back a little.

James let his head fall back against the pillow, his gaze drifting past her to the other side of the bed. There, standing stiffly, were Harry and Ron, looking equal parts guilty and concerned. Further back, Professor McGonagall stood with her arms crossed, her lips pursed in that particular way that made it very clear she was debating how much trouble they were all in. And next to her—oh, brilliant—was Snape, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else.

James blinked at them all. "So... what exactly happened? Last thing I remember, I was getting personally acquainted with a stone wall."

Hermione straightened up, smoothing down her robes as she recounted the events. "After you got hit, the troll—well, it was still up and swinging. Harry and Ron came running in, and we tried to distract it." She glanced at Ron, who looked incredibly pleased with himself despite the situation. "Then I—I don't know—I just did it. Ron and I cast Wingardium Leviosa on the club, lifted it up, and dropped it on its head."

James blinked at her. "You just did it?"

She nodded. "Yes!"

He let out a weak chuckle. "Brilliant. See, Ron? Turns out pronouncing things properly is useful."

Ron scowled but didn't argue, shifting awkwardly before clearing his throat. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But, er... listen." He scratched the back of his head, looking anywhere but directly at Hermione. "About earlier. Y'know, before the troll and everything..."

Hermione folded her arms.

Ron sighed. "I shouldn't've said what I did. It was out of order. And I, er… I'm sorry."

Hermione stared at him for a moment. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she sighed. "Well. I suppose if you're capable of forming a full apology, then you must mean it."

Ron looked mildly offended but seemed to take the win.

McGonagall, who had been watching the entire exchange with a carefully neutral expression, finally spoke up. "While I am glad to see you all bonding over your near-death experience, I do believe there is still the matter of why you were there in the first place."

The three Gryffindors exchanged awkward glances.

McGonagall sighed. "Miss Granger, for your quick thinking and bravery, you will receive five points for Gryffindor. And Mr. Dawson,"—her sharp gaze landed on James—"while your actions were reckless, your use of spells in an attempt to protect Miss Granger was commendable. You will receive five points as well."

James tried not to look too smug.

Then McGonagall's expression darkened slightly. "However. You all put yourselves in tremendous danger instead of seeking help. For this, I am deducting five points from Gryffindor."

Ron groaned. "So, basically, we broke even?"

"Do not push your luck, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said dryly.

James shifted slightly in bed, still wincing from the pain but feeling much more awake. Then, much to his surprise, Snape spoke up for the first time since he arrived.

"Dawson." His voice was as dry and cutting as ever, but there was something oddly... measured about it. his eyes narrowing slightly, "you failed to consider that trolls have exceptionally high resistance to magic. A lesson you would have learned had you been paying attention in class."

James blinked at him. "Er. Cheers?"

Snape gave a slow, unimpressed blink before turning sharply on his heel. "I have no desire to waste any more time here. Try not to get yourself killed before your first-year exams." And with that, he swept out of the room, his robes billowing behind him like an ominous bat.

James let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Well. That wasn't the worst thing he's ever said to me."

"That was practically a compliment," Harry agreed.

McGonagall shook her head. "Enough of this. Madam Pomfrey, I trust you will ensure he gets the rest he needs?"

Pomfrey scoffed. "He'll stay in that bed if I have to Sticking Charm him to it."

"Very good." McGonagall turned back to the others. "As for you three—off to bed. You've caused enough trouble for one evening."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione gave James one last look before reluctantly making their way towards the exit.

"Get well soon, james" Harry said over his shoulder.

"Yeah, don't go picking fights with anything bigger than you," Ron added.

"Or at least wait until you can cast a proper stunning spell," Hermione muttered.

James chuckled as they disappeared, then sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow.

McGonagall gave him one last pointed look. "Rest, Dawson."

"Yes, Professor."

She nodded before turning and striding out, leaving James alone with Madam Pomfrey, who was already preparing some foul-smelling potion for him to drink.

"Well," James muttered to himself, staring up at the ceiling. "That could've gone worse."