Disclaimer: Alright, alright! It's not mine, I admit it. It all belongs to the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling.
Authors Note: Alright, this is a Draco/Ginny fic. I don't really have a particular time period for when this fic takes place, so you can pick one. Sorry in advance for any grammar errors. And, sorry if the ending seems a little tacked on. Please, don't let my mindless blathering keep you from reading my fic. Enjoy!
WANDLESS
Of all the days to get sick, Ginny Weasley had to pick this one.
Not only was it a Hogsmeade day, but the castle was completely deserted save for a few teachers. And to make matters worse, today was Madam Pomfrey's only day off.
And the fact that I, Draco Malfoy, was holding the weaselettes long, sweaty hair away from her face as she retched into my toilet was just icing on the cake.
Earlier That Day
I was headed towards the library on the second floor when I found the youngest weasel sitting on the floor leaning against the door to the girl's bathroom.
"Why aren't you in Hogsmeade trailing the golden boy and his friends?" I sneered at her.
She looked up at me slowly, and I could tell right off that something was wrong. Her eyes were clouded and her face was flushed with fever.
I looked around hoping to find someone to get me out of the awkward situation, but of course, everyone was in Hogsmeade.
"Fantastic," I muttered to myself as I took a step toward her. She glared at me weakly as I approached her.
"I won't bite!" I snapped at her. It's not like I had to help her anyway.
She muttered something incoherent before retching all over my shoes.
"Oh, bloody sodding hell Weasley!" I yelled, "Thank you, that was brilliant!" I snapped angrily. "These shoes are brand new and you've just retched all over them."
Sick as the girl may have been, she apparently, as a Weasley, couldn't surpass the chance to insult me.
"You're a wizard aren't you?" She asked me with as much of a smirk as she could manage.
I reached into my pocket, where I kept my wand but all I grasped was air. I sighed in frustration, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the weaselette grinning. I restrained myself from saying something rude and instead kicked off my shoes. I'd have to go without them.
By now the Weasley girl was curled up in a pitiful ball on the floor moaning.
"Shocking as this may be Weasley, I actually do have a sense of decency, however small it may be. And since I'm feeling rather gracious today I'm going to escort you to the hospital wing."
I crouched down in from of her, scooped her up, adjusted her position so she'd be more comfortable and then stood up. I took off down the nearest corridor that led to the hospital wing. We had been walking in silence for about two minutes before I felt her stir, I looked down at her.
"For someone who claims to hate muggle loving fools as much as you do, you're sure acting rather like a muggle."
I stopped abruptly and glared at her, I seemed to be having a hard time coming up with any witty comebacks when she was around and the fact that she couldn't bite her tongue wasn't helping.
"No wand, remember?" I asked bitterly. "Guess you're stuck with my roaming fingers," she threw me her best glare. "Unless," I said, an idea coming to mind, "Give me your wand Weasley."
"Don't have it." She croaked.
Well so much for that, I thought bitterly. "Roaming fingers it is." I smirked.
I don't normally associate myself with Weasley's, but this one, she was different. She wasn't like the rest of them. Something about her stood out, and it wasn't the fact that she wasn't the only female Weasley in the brood. No it was something else, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
It had almost been another ten minutes before we made it to the double doors leading into the infirmary. Our pace had been slow, we would have been there quicker if we hadn't stopped so many times to bicker. As pointless as the fights were, I quite enjoyed them. The weaselette had started every one of them and naturally she was a little delirious from her fever. And because of her delirium, her arguments made no sense whatsoever. Our biggest argument came when she told me she had to go and feed Hermione's cat Crookshanks to Professor Snape's pet goldfish. I laughed and told her Professor Snape didn't have any pet goldfish and if he did he wouldn't let the likes of her and her mudblood friends' cat anywhere near them.
Well, that didn't go over as well as I'd hoped it would and the weaselette pitched a fit. Thrashing around, trying to get out of my grip all the while screaming for crookshanks at top of her lungs. And during her fit of rage she managed to nail me in the eye, I can only imagine what it will look like in the morning.
Reaching the double doors, I moved to push them open when I noticed a message tacked on one of the doors. I skimmed it over quickly and cursed quietly under my breath. It was just my luck, now I'd be stuck with the weaselette all day. Great, that was just great! Bloody fantastic! What on earth was I supposed to do with the girl for the next 8 hours?
I smirked, well, I could think of a few things. I had to admit, the weaselette had certainly filled out in all the right places recently. She had been turning a lot of head lately. And I admit, though a bit grudgingly, she had caused my head to turn as well.
And that's how I ended up here in my heads room with Ginnerva Weasley leaning over my toilet bowl while I hold her sweaty hair away from her face.
She moaned and pulled herself away from the toilet so she could look up at me. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her eyes had mostly cleared.
"I'll better have lost fifteen pounds after all this retching." She said with a half smile.
I gave her my best attempt at a smile, though I think it turned out looking more like a grimace then a smile. I crawled over to her and picked her up easily.
"I'd say you've got your wish," she looked at me quizzically so I tossed her a bit to emphasize my point. "Fifteen pounds." I reminded her. She smiled weakly at me.
"Are you sure you should be carrying me away from the toilet?" She asked, clearly emphasizing the word, away.
"I find it impossible that there could be anything else you could retch into my toilet," I told her as I carried her into my bedroom. "Besides, you need a chance to sleep some of this off." I told her as I pulled back the sheets on my bed and slipped her into them.
She muttered something about heaven before rolling over and burying her face in one of my many pillows.
I laughed lightly and left the weaselette to sleep while I tried to concentrate on my homework, which was proving to be a rather difficult task. After ten minutes of reading the same paragraph over and over again I decided to get up and check on the girl.
She was sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Her red hair, splayed out on my pillow, stood out drastically against the green and silver sheets of the bed. I'd never really had much of a chance to admire her but now that she was sleeping in my bed I had a chance to get a good, long look at her.
She was a classic beauty, she didn't have to cake on her makeup to get a boys attention. Nor did she have to starve herself for a week and then precede to parade around in skimpy muggle clothes to get a boys attention. Hell, the weaselette could prance around in her sweaty, dirty quiditch clothes with her hair pulled up messily and no makeup on whatsoever and she'd still have half the guys lined up after her.
I was startled out of my thoughts as the weaselette muttered something I couldn't understand. I started at her for another moment before quietly slipping out of the room and back to my awaiting transfiguration essay.
It was about three thirty when I realized I was starving. I had missed lunch because the weaselette had been hanging over my toilet as lunch was being served. I checked in on the weaselette before heading down to the kitchens to grab a sandwich.
I figured the weaselette would be hungry when she woke up so I carried a bowl of hot onion soup back up to my dormitory for her. When I stepped into my common room I saw the weaselette had woken up. She was sitting in the armchair closet to the fire and she had at least three blankets on and was still shivering.
She looked up at me when I entered and eyed the soup in my hands cautiously.
"Thought you might be hungry." I said, setting the bowl down on the table in front of her.
She leaned over and sniffed it before gingerly taking sip. She waited a minute then smiled at me and started eating with a newfound vigor.
Thirty minutes later she was leaning over the toilet bowl once again. And I was still stuck holding her hair up for her. When she fell asleep against the toilet I decided to carry her back to my bed. I touched her forehead but her temperature didn't seem to be breaking.
An hour and a half later I heard her crawling out of my bed. I looked up as she entered the room. I had to bite back a laugh. Her hair was stuck all over her face and she had somehow managed to end up with her shirt on backwards.
She looked down at her shirt and then looked back up at me and shrugged. As for her hair, she just peeled it away from her face and tied it in a knot at the base of her neck.
"You have a toothbrush I could borrow?" She asked me in a slow voice.
I smirked.
"You're a witch aren't you?" I asked her in a slightly mocking tone.
"Guilty," she replied, "But I'm wandless."
I wordlessly flicked my wand and a bright yellow toothbrush appeared in her waiting hand.
"Thanks," She said as she walked into the bathroom. She came back out a few minutes later. She was heading towards the chair near the fire that she had been in earlier when she changed her mind at the last minute and sat down next to me. She got comfortable and then grinned at me.
"I left that toothbrush in your bathroom," she informed me, "Just in case you ever catch me on another one of my sick days."
"Next time I'll know better then to stop and check on you out of the kindness of my heart, only to have you retch all over my shoes." I said sarcastically.
She laughed. She had a beautiful laugh.
"Draco Malfoy has a heart, eh?" She asked me with a playful smile.
"Depends on the day." I drawled.
A lock of her hair fell out of the knot she had tied and I unconsciously leaned forward and tucked it behind her ear, my fingers lingering a second longer the necessary.
We were only inches apart now. I watched her eyes as they traced the shape of my face. I reached for her left wrist and found her pulse. It was slow and steady. I leaned closer and felt it quicken a bit.
I leaned even closer, only a breath away from her. I ran my free hand over the curve of her face before closing the short distance between us by lightly brushing my lips over hers. I pulled back for a second before leaning in for a slow, sweet kiss. There was no rush and it was a kiss out of want rather then need.
"Mmmm…" she mumbled, smiling against my lips. "Go brush your teeth."
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