Miles managed to flick a feeble glare at her when she corrected him. He was the one aching in the joints here, and every muscle hurt. Why wasn't she a little more sympathetic to his plight? The last time he'd ever been truly this sick (it was the wizarding flu), Madame Pomphrey had pandered to his every whim up in the school infirmary.
He felt a dozen times sicker than that now - he had to have the pox - and she was just barely offering up any sympathy. He flashed her his most pathetic look as he tried not to spill the water everywhere. "What potions have we got? I feel like I'm dying."
He did close his eyes and let out a soft sigh of relief to hear Liam wasn't any more sick than the last time he'd asked. "We shouldn't be sick at all," he muttered again. "We were vaccinated."
"You could get sick again," he said in realisation, remembering that Bellatrix had given him the same potion that they'd been given. His eyes widened in fear at the thought as he reached out for her. "How are you feeling?"