Ginny woke slowly, emerging into consciousness from the depths of her slumber. She blinked sleepily as the world around her slowly settled into place. She heard the sound of soft even breathing and saw to her utmost surprise, the bedside chair being occupied by none other than Draco Malfoy. He was asleep so Ginny could study him for once. Ginny realized that she had never actually looked, really looked at Malfoy, and she took the chance now. The weak morning light hit him and lit up his features. His skin was like marble, his cheeks glowed, the lines of his face were erased, and then there was his hair. Ginny evoked a small sigh, usually slicked back, it had become rumpled by sleep, and strands fell into his eyes. The sun’s rays turned his hair flaxen gold, and he looked, Ginny thought, like an angel. Even his lips, gently parted, looked soft and plump and totally kissable. Ginny shook her head violently. After all, this was Malfoy. He may look like an angel, but well he was a fallen angel, rotten and corrupted on the inside. Still, he looked so beautiful and innocent and pure lying there.
Hoping fervently that the sudden tenderness towards Malfoy was an aftereffect of the sleeping draught, Ginny hopped out of bed and went to take a shower. Ostensibly, to clean out all the blood that was matted in her hair, but privately she didn’t trust herself to be alone with such a gorgeous boy, even if it was only Malfoy.
* * * * * *
Draco woke suddenly, his eyes snapping open. For a second he was puzzled, this wasn’t his dormitory, then he remembered everything that had happened the previous day. He looked to the hospital bed and was surprised to see it was empty. A slight movement caused him to jerk his head, and there stood Ginny, looking almost resplendent, Draco thought. A towel wrapped around her, her shoulders bare and creamy, a hint of cleavage, and her milky white legs. Her hair however was what attracted Draco the most, her shining, glistening, locks of russet colored hair. It lay free for once, tumbling down her back in rippling waves.
He recovered enough to smirk and say, “Well what a pleasant sight to wake to.” Continuing he said, “When you stand in the light like that, your towel becomes see-through.” This wasn’t true but Malfoy just wanted to anger her. He made a point of looking her over, from head to toe while smirking.
Ginny strode up to him and smacked him, hard. Malfoy was stunned, no girl, unless you counted that Mudblood Granger, had ever done such a thing.
He stared at her, for once lost for words. Then, without a word, she shut the bed curtains to get changed. By the time she came out, fully clothed in the clean robes Madam Pomfrey had left her, Malfoy had fully recouped. He was lounging in the chair, still wearing his rumpled Quidditch robes, but he’d combed his hair and had recovered his usual cool, haughty air.
Madam Pomfrey bustled in, and demanded that Ginny take a bit of Pepperup potion. However remembering her first year when the same potion had left her smoking at the ears for several hours, and looking, according to Colin, as if her head was on fire, she declined. She didn’t think she could stand Malfoy’s snide comments on “Hot-headed Weasley’s” and whatnot. Madam Pomfrey looked significantly put out at this, and said in an almost cold tone that if Ginny felt OK enough to do without the Pepperup potion, then could she at least allow herself to be assisted to the Great Hall by Mr. Malfoy? Ginny, anxious to assuage the aggrieved witch, agreed.
She told herself that it wasn’t as if Malfoy was about to lend her a hand anyway.
Hoping fervently that the sudden tenderness towards Malfoy was an aftereffect of the sleeping draught, Ginny hopped out of bed and went to take a shower. Ostensibly, to clean out all the blood that was matted in her hair, but privately she didn’t trust herself to be alone with such a gorgeous boy, even if it was only Malfoy.
* * * * * *
Draco woke suddenly, his eyes snapping open. For a second he was puzzled, this wasn’t his dormitory, then he remembered everything that had happened the previous day. He looked to the hospital bed and was surprised to see it was empty. A slight movement caused him to jerk his head, and there stood Ginny, looking almost resplendent, Draco thought. A towel wrapped around her, her shoulders bare and creamy, a hint of cleavage, and her milky white legs. Her hair however was what attracted Draco the most, her shining, glistening, locks of russet colored hair. It lay free for once, tumbling down her back in rippling waves.
He recovered enough to smirk and say, “Well what a pleasant sight to wake to.” Continuing he said, “When you stand in the light like that, your towel becomes see-through.” This wasn’t true but Malfoy just wanted to anger her. He made a point of looking her over, from head to toe while smirking.
Ginny strode up to him and smacked him, hard. Malfoy was stunned, no girl, unless you counted that Mudblood Granger, had ever done such a thing.
He stared at her, for once lost for words. Then, without a word, she shut the bed curtains to get changed. By the time she came out, fully clothed in the clean robes Madam Pomfrey had left her, Malfoy had fully recouped. He was lounging in the chair, still wearing his rumpled Quidditch robes, but he’d combed his hair and had recovered his usual cool, haughty air.
Madam Pomfrey bustled in, and demanded that Ginny take a bit of Pepperup potion. However remembering her first year when the same potion had left her smoking at the ears for several hours, and looking, according to Colin, as if her head was on fire, she declined. She didn’t think she could stand Malfoy’s snide comments on “Hot-headed Weasley’s” and whatnot. Madam Pomfrey looked significantly put out at this, and said in an almost cold tone that if Ginny felt OK enough to do without the Pepperup potion, then could she at least allow herself to be assisted to the Great Hall by Mr. Malfoy? Ginny, anxious to assuage the aggrieved witch, agreed.
She told herself that it wasn’t as if Malfoy was about to lend her a hand anyway.
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