That kid sitting over there with three arms is blue, Roxanne, who suddenly has snakes for hair, is blue, this greenhouse is blue—would that make it a bluehouse?—and the stars floating above my head are blue. Everything is blue. Except the sky. The sky looks hot pink. But the clouds are blue and so is that tree and—
Wheeeeee!
Sorry, I honestly don’t know where that came from. Wherever it came from though, I wonder if that’s where my brain went because right now I honestly can’t tell which way’s up and which way’s down. Even if you pushed me off the Astronomy tower I probably still wouldn’t have a clue. But that would be quite the fall. If it wouldn’t kill me, I think that’d be fun!
Merlin, why does my head hurt so much?
Oh wait, that’s probably because my left hand keeps colliding with my face. Waaait, what’s that on my hand? Is that a wart? Or a mole? I can’t tell ‘cause everything is blue but I don’t remember having a mole there. Yup, I’m pretty sure that that mole wasn’t there yesterday. But that means that I have a wart which is preposterous—
Wait a second.
Why is my left hand colliding with my face!? That’s not normal, is it?
. . . Is it!?!?!
“Weasley, what did you do to me?” I grumbled, a little bit of the sense that had abandoned me returning (key word being: little). I tried to make my hand stop smacking my face but it seems that I had absolutely no control over it. I was slumped on the floor, my back leaning against the leg of my table, and I quickly came to the abrupt realization that I couldn’t control any part of my body save for my mouth and my eyes.
“Weasley, what did you do to me!?” I repeated, louder and much more urgently. I gazed up at Hugo. He was leaning over me with a startled expression set on his features. Professor Longbottom was beside him and he reached out so that he could feel my temperature.
They all looked a gagillion times bigger than usual. And blue. We can’t forget that they’re blue.
“Ilana, you have to calm down, okay?” Professor Longbottom told me, patting my arm soothingly, “If you get too excited then you could pass out.” I wanted to nod but two things were stopping me: 1) Like I said before, I can’t move at all and 2) it was kind of hard to focus on something as trivial as nodding when I was so caught up in the fact that Professor Longbottom suddenly had two tongues.
Two tongues.
That’s outrageous.
I want two tongues. Then I could lick two ice cream cones at the same time!
Oh my sweet tap-dancing Merlin, that would be awesome.
“Someone grab her arm so she doesn’t give herself a concussion.” Longbottom instructed and Weasley immediately grabbed me by the elbow mid-slap. As soon as that arm froze, however, my right hand immediately began to slap my face instead.
You wanna know what I just noticed? My hand makes funny noises every time it hits my face!
Tee-hee.
This is fun.
Weasley grabbed my other arm and as that froze, my knee came up to collide with my face as well. That stopped my amusement immediately. This was not fun. This was not fun. WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME!?
“What’s wrong with her?” Weasley spluttered to Professor Longbottom, “Why is she kneeing herself in the face?”
He sighed, conjuring up a stretcher, “That plant you dared her to eat really shouldn’t be eaten, Hugo. Her body is now going to try it’s hardest to destroy itself and she won’t be able to do a thing about it. She has no control over her muscles, and I’m guessing that she’s feeling lightheaded and disoriented. She wouldn’t be sober enough to gain control of her body even if she wanted to.”
“Longbottom . . .” I mumbled helplessly as other students in the class held down my legs to protect my face from them, “I’m not feeling too dandy.” I paused, "Oh, and could you tell me where you got that second tongue? I want one.”
He sighed, shaking his head at Weasley, “She’s hallucinating too.” He motioned for the students to let go of my body so that he could levitate it onto the stretcher. As soon as my arms were free, they continued their assault on my poor head.
But that didn’t stop me from giggling.
“I’m floating!”
“Fix her, Professor!” A girl exclaimed from behind me, she ran to the side of the stretcher and looked down at me with a horrified expression. Her brown hair whipped Longbottom’s face as she frantically glanced between me and the Professor. It was my sister! “I’ve never seen her so peppy in my entire life! It’s freaking me out!”
I giggled again.
She’s so silly.
“Don’t be ridiculousss, er . . .” I scrunched up my nose in thought, “What’s your name again?”
My sister’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Like forreals, they looked like freaky dinner plates with blue and black and white in them that were attached to her face.
“Memory loss too,” Longbottom cursed, “I’ve better hurry to the Hospital Wing. Behave while I’m gone.” He gave the students a stern look with his eight eyes and they all nodded in response. I would’ve too if I could’ve. Longbottom began to levitate my stretcher out of the greenhouse—bluehouse?—and I oohed and awed in response. Everything looked so cool.
“Wait!” My sister yelled after us, waving her arms around frantically. I looked back at her and her dinner plate eyes were swirling around in an array of different shades of blue. I didn’t think it was possible, but I felt even dizzier, “These side effects aren’t permanent, are they!?”
“Not if I hurry!” He called back, and he immediately quickened his pace.
I giggled the whole way there—whilst my arm continued bonking my cranium—thinking about my sister. She was probably gutting Hugo like a fish for daring me to eat that freaky plant! Poor bloke. Destined to be brutally murdered by the girl he’s been in love with for four years . . . What a shameful way to die.
Tee-hee.
Oh well, that’s what he gets for unintentionally drugging me up.
-
About an hour and half later after that freaky trip (my first and last, by the way), having that old fart, Madame Pompfrey, force the nastiest potion down my throat in three separate instances and passing out each time, I was completely back to normal.
Well, sort of.
Every now and again my hand will still come up to my face and slap it without mercy, but it’s not as bad. The only downer is that I can actually feel it now, and, lemme tell you, it hurts.
I was told that I have to stay here for an entire week while it wore off.
A week.
What am I supposed to do for a week?
Play patty cake with my imaginary friend, Bob?
Not that I have an imaginary friend named Bob or anything . . .
“Why are you imprisoning me here?” I asked Madame Pompfrey as she stirred up another potion nearby. She was humming happily as if it was a great joy to have a patient in this godforsaken room for the first time in months. There’s a reason people avoid getting sick nowadays, Pomfrey! It’s because of you!
“Because I know you, Ilana.” She stated simply.
“And?”
“If I keep you here then I can assure you won’t do something stupid.” She said, “Like Quidditch. If your body is still trying to destroy itself when you’re that high in the air, don’t you think it’d be pretty easy for it to just jump off your broom?”
I grumbled.
“I don’t like missing classes.”
She snorted.
“Right.”
I grumbled some more.
“When can I have visitors?” I demanded, figuring that if I was going to be stuck here, I ought to at least be permitted some company soon . . . and if she’s going to torture me, then I’m going to torture her. I’m going to invite every person I know to visit me. We’re going to have a freaking party in her precious Hospital Wing. Rebellious teenagers and all.
Her lips curled in distaste but she tried her best to smile anyways and said through gritted teeth, “Soon.” I’m pretty sure her wrinkly eye twitched.
And—hallelujah—at that exact moment, the doors burst open and in barged two bickering teenagers. Madame Pompfrey huffed but exited to her study despite her hatred of visitors, taking her potion with her. Any other girl would have smiled fondly as her twin sister and best friend scurried towards her when she’s down, frantic to see how she’s doing. But I’m not any other girl. I’m Ilana Saxton. And right now I was murdering them with my eyes.
“—she could have died, you idiot!” My sister yelled at Hugo.
“I didn’t think she’d actually eat it!”
“Well she did!”
“Well it’s not my fault that she’s stupid!” Hugo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. I wondered if they even noticed me sitting here, safe and sound . . . and bored.
“It’s not her fault that she’s stupid either! I’m sorry that I got the better genes.”
My fraternal twin is such a sweetheart, I swear.
“So it’s your fault that she’s stupid?”
“Of course not!”
“Now you’re not making any sense!”
“Your face doesn’t make any sense!”
“Will you two shut it?” I inquired of them impatiently, “My head hurts so much that I think it’s about to explode.”
They shut up immediately and turned to me, as if surprised to find me here. Merlin, it’s like they had no idea where they were going or something and they just happened to end up in the Hospital Wing. Fancy that!
“Ilana!?” My sister’s velvety voice exclaimed, switching from enraged to relieved to ecstatic in just those three syllables of my name. That may seem like it’d sound horrible but, of course, my sister pulled it off smoothly.
“Yeah, who’d you expect?”
“You’re okay!”
“For the most part.” I agreed bitterly and at that moment my hand slapped my face again. I groaned, “That’s really, really annoying.”
“Yeah,” Hugo said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head lightly, “Sorry about that.”
I shrugged, “It’s whatever. It’s not like you knew that plant would do that to me.”
Hugo smiled.
My sister, on the other hand, frowned at the boy, “Just because my sister forgives you,” She spat venomously, “doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
I rolled my eyes. Hugo is so openly in love with her and she’s probably the only one who doesn’t realize it. She never talks to me about her feelings for the boy (other than, you know, how much she hates him) but I’ve got an inkling that she’s so rude to him because she doesn’t want to like him in that way. She’s very dramatic about her feelings, you see.
“We’ll see, Zara.” He said simply, smirking. He scooted two chairs over to the side of my bed and plopped himself down, my sister following suit.
Zara! That’s right. I can’t believe I forgot her name.
“When is Pompfrey letting you out of here?” Zara asked me, trying her best to calm down and ignore Hugo.
“A week.”
“What!?” Hugo yelled, standing up immediately and throwing his arms into the air wildly, “But we’ve got a Quidditch match tomorrow! What’s the team going to do without our best Chaser!?” I rolled my eyes. He and I both knew that I wasn’t the best Chaser on the team.
“You’ll be fine without me,” I shrugged, “Besides, Roxanne will enjoy taking my place. Doesn’t she still want to get her revenge on Davies or something?”
Hugo raised an eyebrow, “Why are you so calm about this? Normally you’d blow a gasket.”
I shrugged again, “To tell the truth, I’m still kind of loopy. I’ll probably blow a gasket later.”
“Er . . .” Hugo began, “Please don’t.”
“Nope, now I have to.”
“Great.”
“Shut up, Weasley,” Zara snapped sassily, “This is your entire fault anyways.”
Hugo sank back into his chair, arms crossed. Poor boy had no idea what he was getting himself into when he fell head over heels for my sister. I swear. He must be stupid.
Yeah, that’s probably it.
-
A/N: heyyyy it's still_fly! (or lonnie.. i'm just gonna say lonnie cause it's easier, capiche?)
i bet you guys weren't expecting this. like forreal, saval and i already have stories to update.. but we couldn't resist. you have no IDEA how much fun we're having writing this. i hope you guys enjoy! just to explain things a bit, for each chapter saval and i are going to switch POVs. its gonna be kind of crazy so get excited.
and don't forget to review!!
Write a Review Side Effects: What Have You Done To Me?
Printer Friendly Version
