March 13. In the evening, a couple hours after dinner and Moira's lesson with Storm.

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Zel was tired. No, he was exhausted. He had done plenty of angry-running-and-swimming in the morning, and was too frustrated to really eat all day. At least, not enough to support his 6'8 frame. Zel hadn't heard from his stepfather in well over a month, he and Garrett were currently arguing via letters, and he was in general, feeling rather useless. Overall,  Zel was feeling drained and definitely didn’t want to focus on homework. Still, he had forced himself to go through the day like normal. As they say, self-care is overrated. Actually, nobody says that—but fake sayings were a good way for him to justify it to himself.

Still, Zel was ready for spring break... Even if it meant arguing with Garrett in his tiny flat the whole time. He really would've rather gone home, but without hearing from Rhys.... That wasn't an option.

He exited his dorm and walked into the common area, plopping down on the couch with his legs hanging over the edge. His face was squished into the armrest, and next to him was a fourth year in one of the recliners, absolutely passed out.
Zelig recognized her as Moira McBoid. He had helped her to the hospital hut once when she was ill.  He wondered if she was sick again. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and stretched in order to nudge her with it. With his long, gangly arms, it wasn’t difficult.

“Are you feeling alright?” He whispered.

Moira jumped awake when she was nudged... with a wand from an older classmate. A yawn and a small groan later she looked over at the boy, who turned out to be Zel. It wasn't the first time he had found her sick, but at least she wasn't delusional and trying to go to class on a Saturday. Another difference was he wasn't looking as great as he did then too.

"Ah'm afraid that's a bit of an overstatement, ta be perfectly honest."

Yawning again Moira shivered, then frowned. She hadn't been cold before and her skin still felt relatively warm, which meant she had a fever and chills. Definitely needed to sleep and stay in bed all day Sunday. Food shouldn't really be much of a problem, as she hadn't had much of an appetite since the evening before.

Focusing back to current events she gazed at the werewolf, still not feeling like she had the energy to make it to bed just yet.

He put his wand in the pocket of his trousers and dangled his arms over the edge of the couch, chin propped up on the armrest to get a better look at his fellow badger. She did look exhausted—maybe even a bit sickly. An overstatement? Then she must’ve felt awful. He made a note to himself to keep an eye on her over the next couple of days. If Zel’s memory served him correctly, Moira was the sort to push herself even when she felt like death.

And oh, was that familiar. Zel was guilty of participating in very similar behaviors.

Zel rolled off of the couch and onto the floor before pushing himself up to his feet. He left the common area to his dorm, and returned with a rather patchy quilt with kittens on it. He threw it over Moira, covering her head.[1]

“You looked cold.” He said simply, shrugging. Zel stood there uncomfortably-- unsure of whether or not he should stay and chat, or leave her be.

1.	Okayed with Lyn

When Zel got up and left without a word Moira vaguely wondered if he was going to bed and didn't want to get sick, since he was headed that way. However, something with a bit of weight to it landed on top of her, covering everything. Through the quilt she heard him say it was because she looked cold.

Moving enough to tug it off her  her head, though it still covered everything up to her chin, she looked up at him.

"Thanks. Ah am." She shivered again, but not so bad as before. The quilt was already doing wonders to help her warm up. "Ah'll make sure it's washed before Ah return it, if that's alright?"

“Yeah. “ He put his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“I hope you… Like cats.” The kittens on the quilt were running around, playing with each other. He couldn’t recall where he had gotten it—maybe it was a gift? Maybe his mum had bought it somewhere. It was a blanket from home. No one else in his family loved felines quite as much as he did.

“So…..” Zelig cleared his throat nervously. “Are you sick or something…?”

"Ah do like cats. Most animals actually." Turning her head into her shoulder she coughed semi-violently, stopping her from going on with her personal feline obsession with a creature known as the Kasimir thought to be extinct by many but she knew they were still around, hiding.

Smiling at his question of the obvious she nodded affirmation to him. "Ah did-nae jump into the lake or stay out in the cold this time though. This time's normal." Moira figured that was part of his concern.

December she had stayed out all night in the freezing rain it was amazing she hadn't caught her death, and before that she had dived into the lake when a first year had fallen in due to her startling him accidentally.

Good, another animal lover.

To be honest, Zel was a bit apprehensive towards those who didn’t like animals. And if animals didn’t likethem, that was evidence that there was something untrustworthy about them. He didn’t rely on his own instincts as much, as he was never sure if his instincts were there because he was craven, or if he was actually picking up on something important.

“I love animals.” He cleared his throat, “I want to work with them one day. ‘Specially dragons.”

“Your skin’s not green, s’not dragon pox. Yet.” Way to make her feel better, Zel. "I mean—that’s good. It’s…. Nevermind.” He hung his head in defeat. If he spoke any more, he would be stuffing his foot even further into his mouth. It was as if he was channeling his inner Figaro.

Moira gave him credit for at least attempting to make her feel better, but only time would manage that. Well, medicine could too but she really would rather not take any and just wait it out. Since it was a normal illness she didn't think it would last more than a few more days since it had escalated so quickly out of the starting stages.

"That's a relief. Ah'm glad tis no' Dragon Pox. That woul' truly be a pain ta deal with." If her skin had a green tint Professor Storm wouldn't have given her a choice and would have sent her straight to Madam Nagde. Moira had no problems with her, of course. The young Hufflepuff was just used to taking care of her illnesses herself, or letting her father and uncle do it.

Setting her head back down on the arm of the chair she closed her eyes, still not feeling up to travelling the distance to her bed. "Ye can stay if ye wan'. Ye won' bother me none."

He laughed, “My little sister had dragonpox a couple years ago. It was awful. She’s fine now, but she’s got some scars where she’s scratched. But she had a mild version of it, so it could’ve been worse.” Dragonpox was a potentially fatal disease, if not caught in the early stages. The elderly were more likely to die of it than younger folk.

Zel looked at Moira carefully, “Are you—are you sure you want me to stay? I mean… If I am bothering you I can leave. It won’t hrut my feelings at all. I know when I’m sick I just want to be left alone to sleep all day.” Or he wanted someone to crack jokes and make him laugh. His older brother always told him that laughter was a good healer. Zel wasn’t sure how accurate it was, but laughing was at least good for lifting your mood.

"Ah'm sure. Ta be honest Ah wouldnae mind tha company."

That statement in and of itself just about screamed that Moira McBoid was ill. Other than being at home, and sometimes even then, she almost never wanted company past the animals she surrounded herself with. Growing up as an only child with a busy father and uncle on a working farm, she had more than learned to entertain herself.

Now, being ill, she wanted someone else to talk and distract her from how terribly she was feeling, instead of doing so herself like normal. Opening her eyes partially she moved her head to look at him a bit better. "Ye've seemed kind of... moody as of late. Tha' or Ah'm imagining things."

She wouldn’t mind his company?

Well, that was weird. Moira wasn’t exactly a sociable person. Zel half-expected her to tell him to leave her alone forever, with his kitten quilt.

He sat back down on the couch and leaned back, though he didn’t let himself get too comfortable yet.  Zel let out a groaning noise when she mentioned that he seemed a bit moody lately. Moody was a nice way of putting it. While most of it was internal, there were times when it was more obvious. The closer to the full moon he got, the harder it was to control it. “Yeah, I guess.” He sighed, “One of the perks of werewolfism.” Zel recalled that his sister had been pretty similar, but he had severely underestimated how much it affected her.

As he sat she curled up a bit more with the quilt. It was warm and very cozy. For a moment, a very brief moment, she was sad that she didn't have a grandmother or someone of the sort to make her a quilt. She'd just have to be satisfied with the borrowed one for the time being. When Zel spoke that thought was swept aside and she was brought back to the moment at hand.

Ah-hah. That definitely explained why he seemed so... off at times. "Well, tha's no' really a perk. Suppose ye see tha whole thing as "no' a perk" though. At least yer alive enough tae be moody?" Conversation wasn't her forte, and it was starting to show, but being ill and not herself she tried anyway.