Chapter Nineteen:

Ginny flipped the pancake over in the pan, making sure it was done on both sides before adding it to the stack on the serving plate beside the stove. She didn’t make a habit of cooking breakfast for both of them in the morning, but since she had felt like cooking this morning, she had gone ahead and made pancakes, a meal she knew they both enjoyed. Now if only the blond would come down to eat them. She was always the first one up, of course, but there wasn’t usually this long a gap between when she got up and when he made his way down, especially when she cooked something. Given how much he liked pancakes, she had expected him to be down as soon as the smell of them cooking had made its way upstairs. And yet here she stood, cooking up the last of the batter, and he still wasn’t up yet.

It wasn’t until she caught the sound of his footsteps descending the steps behind her that she finally felt the tension begin to leave her shoulders. After his friends had left late the day before, and he had headed upstairs to take a warm shower, he had thrown a comment over his shoulder that he wanted to talk to her in the morning about an idea he’d had regarding Nagini. Needless to say, only the fact that he went directly into the bathroom, and straight to bed afterwards, had kept her from pestering him about what he’d meant. Her patience was worn so thin, it was all she could do to keep from pouncing on him the moment he stepped into the kitchen.

Instead of attacking him with questions, she finished the last pancake while he sat rather heavily in his chair with a muted curse, then took the full plate to the table. When she did so, she took note of his head slumped over his arms on the table and rolled her eyes.

“Have enough fun yesterday, then, or do you want to take an ice bath today to top it all off?” The half annoyed, half amused tone of her voice turned reluctantly to one of concern when his only response was a soft groaning noise. “Draco?”

He finally raised his head a few seconds later and she couldn’t help wincing at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes. Even for someone with a very fair skin tone, he looked pale. Before she had a chance to ask how he was feeling, he sniffled and went to respond to her previous question only to let out a hacking cough that was accompanied by a rather ominous rumbling sound. She was around the table and placing a hand on his forehead before he had a chance to drop it back onto his arms.

“Well, you definitely have a fever,” she announced. He made a face at her words, but didn’t seem to have the energy to make an actual comment. Red strands danced briefly over her shoulders as she shook her head and wrapped an arm around his waist as he stood. He tried to step away from her, but only managed to stumble slightly, causing her to tighten her hold on him as she ushered him none too gently back up the stairs.

She was thankful that he hadn’t bothered changing out of his pajamas before breakfast as he usually did, allowing her to shepherd him into his room and to the edge of his bed where he half laid and half collapsed onto the mattress. She pulled the blanket up a little so it was more over than under him but refrained from actually tucking him in. Even so, he shot her a sickly sneer when she told him she’d bring him up something to eat. Adopting the brisk professionalism of a nurse, she ignored the expression and simply left the room to do exactly as she’d said, putting together a tray of toast and tea and returning to his room.

Most of his energy was used up by the rough hacking cough and chills that overtook him throughout the day but he did his best to tell her the toast was too dry, or the tea too cold, or the soup too bland each time she brought it to him. Still, the redhead’s patience held, as did her temper, even after having taken care of him for more than twenty-four hours. “I’m bored,” he paused to cough up what sounded like a third of his left lung. “Put something on the telly.”

She turned on the old television set Garald Tonks had brought into his room the night before when he’d come home from work and found the teen confined to his room. The Gryffindor silently flipped through the channels for him for a good five minutes until he found a show he wanted to watch. She even took it at face value when he protested that she would have to change the channels again during commercials and between shows when she went to leave the room. She waited until he was absorbed in the show before leaving to refill his tea and then returned and made herself comfortable with the remote once more.

If it weren’t for the fact that he was obviously sick, she’d have been tempted to think he was going out of his way to take up all her time and run her ragged. The exhaustion on his face when he woke himself up coughing only ten minutes after he had managed to drift off, and the pained expression when he coughed so hard he was doubled over and gasping for breath was more than enough to keep any such thoughts under control. It was also enough for her to bully him into the car during Coral’s lunch break the next day to get him to the doctor’s, where they received a prescription for antibiotics and cough syrup. The fact that they would help him improve more quickly and allow him to get some sleep was enough to give her the energy to force him to take both.

Draco never once thanked her for the constant care, and she couldn’t help wondering if he was a little annoyed that the syrup made it possible for him to stop coughing long enough to let out the occasional, muted chuckle at the biting and sarcastic comments she started making when they watched TV. The night after his appointment, she’d noticed that he would act like he wanted to say something during the sappy or serious points in the shows they were watching, but he didn’t seem to have the energy to do so. He’d let out a loud cough the first time she’d made fun of the girl’s heartfelt apology on the screen. Ginny pretended she didn’t hear the laugh it was disguising.

The redhead also pretended that she didn’t notice the annoyance on his face when, the next day, she started filling the time with stories of how she had helped find and destroy the previous horcruxes, what it had been like to grow up with six older brothers, and what had happened at the school after he had left with Snape. She certainly didn’t let on that she could tell when he eventually grew interested in her tales despite himself. It was a little difficult to act oblivious, however, when Coral interrupted her description of the last meeting she’d had with Moody and Dumbledore, when she’d learned that she would be going to see him to ask for his help with the last horcrux. He very nearly looked as if he would insist she stay to finish when she stood to meet the older woman in the hallway outside his door.

The Slytherin ground his teeth as she stepped out of the door, closing it most of the way behind herself. He was bored, there was nothing good on TV and having her blather on, no matter the topic, made the hours pass a little faster. Besides, what she’d been talking about did relate to their task, so really it was information he needed to know anyway, they might as well take advantage of him being stuck in bed to get it all over with at once. If he’d been well enough to do what he wanted, he would never have been able to force himself to listen to her prattle on for so long about things he didn’t care about. This was important, so it was okay for him to want to hear it. Completely understandable for him to not want such necessary information as the look on Moody’s face when he admitted they needed his help to be interrupted.

Just when he was about to call the redhead back into the room to get back to what she was supposed to be doing, Draco became aware of the voices drifting easily through the partially open doorway.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take over for the rest of the evening, dear, you look a mite worn down, and you haven’t been getting enough sleep. If you’re not careful you’ll end up sick too, and then where would you be, needing to take care of the both of you?”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Tonks, I’m doing fine…” there was silence for a moment before she continued, as though she were responding to something he couldn’t hear or see. “I’m a little tired, yes, but I’m perfectly all right. Besides, he’s a good patient, I can handle it. You’ve been working all day and should relax, spend some time with Mr. Tonks.”

Another pause, then it was Coral who broke the silence. “If you’re quite sure, dear. But only if you promise to take some time for yourself before bed.”

His jaw was still clenched when she made her way back to the chair beside his bed, but his hands were not fidgeting with a button of his pajama top as he thought about what he’d heard. And even if they were, they were under the blanket so they wouldn’t show anyway. Still, though he wasn’t the least bit bothered with the idea that she hadn’t slept because she’d gotten up several times each night to restack the pillows so he could lay down and still breathe, and then spent all day watching TV with him, and making his meals, and carrying them up to him, and taking down his dishes, and keeping his room clean despite the piles of used tissues that started to cover the nightstand and floors around his bed.

He didn’t mind the thought of her having kept track of his medications and fought with him every time they were due until he finally swallowed them down. She was a Gryffindor and they liked being self sacrificing. She probably enjoyed being needed. Not that he really needed her. In fact, her ever present company was starting to grate on his nerves, and since he was fully capable of taking care of himself, he gruffly told her that she could go bug someone else for a while. She gave no reaction to his generous offer, instead making herself comfortable and picking back up where she left off in her story once she’d checked to make sure that nothing was on that he liked to watch.

Draco merely huffed at her stubbornness, figuring if she was intent on staying, there was no point in wasting energy by arguing with her about it. His strategy seemed to have proven a good one the next day, when he woke from a surprisingly long nap around mid afternoon to find that his chest no longer rattled or wheezed much at all when he breathed, and he could take a fairly deep breath without coughing. The blond even found the energy, obviously saved up from giving the Gryffindor her way, to go get himself a snack.

He only made it as far as the bottom of the stairs when he heard the coughing. Curiosity led him to the front room and the redheaded form sprawled out on the couch, coughing in her sleep. He stood watching her for a moment before he inched forward and gave her leg a rough nudge.

“Hey, Weasley, wake up.” She did so slowly, her brown eyes watery and red rimmed when they met his. “Go up to your room, you’re getting germs all over the couch.”

It was true, he thought as she slowly made her way to her feet with a tired glare, and he was sick of watching TV in his room, planning to enjoy the larger one in the front room which he couldn’t very well do if she was in the way. And it only made sense to expedite her relocation by taking her arm and leading her wavering steps to her room. To save himself a trip when she figured out she was thirsty later, he brought her a mug of hot tea before making his way back downstairs. If he didn’t close her door all the way behind himself so that any plea for help would later reach him, it was simply because he forgot.

When such a plea did drift down the stairs a few hours later, it was with a grunt and a curled lip that he checked on her and then fetched the phone for her to call the doctor’s office and order some antibiotics for herself. He was saving himself a walk to the chemist when he brought her the extra bottle of cough syrup he had left and called Coral to ask her to pick up the prescription on her way home. Still, it was a few hours before the woman arrived home from work, antibiotics in hand.

He nodded at the sight, ignoring the curious look on his relative’s face when he reached out to take the bag from her. “The sooner she starts taking them, the sooner she will get better and stop complaining all day long.”

Coral’s brows rose at the grumbled declaration. “I’m sorry, dear, is she quite sick, should I stay here tomorrow and take care of her?”

Draco only rolled his eyes. “Then who will pay for the crisps?” he asked as he turned and headed for the stairs with a beleaguered sigh. Coral waited until he’d disappeared before smiling, and neither of her houseguests heard her soft laugh as her husband came in and asked after them.

“If I get sick again, I am holding you completely responsible,” the Slytherin told her when he reached her room and tossed her pills on the desk by her pull-out sofa. She fought a laugh at the look on his face as much because it would make her cough as because he’d probably take it as an insult and leave. No wonder he was always coming up with some reason for her to be around. Laying around only half able to breathe and not able to sleep was boring and miserable. If he were sneering or talking at least it gave her something else to focus on than how badly she felt.

Trying to show that she appreciated him bringing the medication, she pushed herself up a little and choked down the pills, absently listening for some clue as to what Coral was doing. Obviously, since her medication was there, so was the older woman, but surely she would have brought them up herself if she wasn’t too busy. She’d fully expected to have no one but Coral for company for the rest of the evening, with Garald maybe popping in for a minute here and there, so it was surprising to see the blond standing at her bedside. That train of thought was too much for her to maintain, however, as she instead focused on setting the glass of water back down and resituating herself with a weary groan.

“Ugh. I should have had the doctor include something to put me in a coma,” she said, thinking of a medical drama she had watched with Draco the day before, “then I wouldn’t know how bad I feel."

With her eyes closed in exhaustion, she missed the sudden widening of his grey orbs, thinking nothing out of the ordinary when she heard him leave the room seconds later. Even if she had taken note of his reaction or abrupt exit and commented on it, Draco would hardly have notice or cared, his entire focus on the idea forming in his mind. During the water fight, he had thought of using a tranquilizer gun on Nagini to put it out before transport, but he’d not come up with how to keep the snake out of it long enough to take care of the horcrux without risking killing it prematurely. He hadn’t had the energy to talk to the redhead about it while he was sick, or even to think about the problem, but now, well, what she had said had started the wheels moving once more, and they were circling rapidly.

He spent the rest of the night, and much of the next day ensconced at the computer, researching drugs that could tranquilize large animals, and induce comas in full grown humans, which he figured would almost match Nagini’s weight. He took several breaks to sleep and eat. He checked on Ginny on the way to or from his room, after all, hers was right next door so he might as well poke his head through her door.

The surprised look on her face the next day, when he came in and set a plate of toast and soup on her desk on the way to his room, caused him to roll his eyes. “I just had some myself, you might as well take the rest so I don’t have to store it for later.”

Ginny just nodded. “Of course, but thanks anyway.”

He thought about telling her what he had found out regarding the drugs, but as important as it was to get things worked out right away, he knew she’d immediately want to work on it herself too, and she really should be resting. The sooner she got better, the sooner they could get back to training, and he had an expert lined up to teach them to use the tranquilizer guns he’d just finished ordering from an online vet supply. So instead of hanging around while she ate, he took the time to call and chat with Aaron about a new motorbike he was thinking of buying. On his way downstairs after the conversation, however, he found himself rather bored, so he stopped in her room and turned on the small TV Garald had transferred from his room that morning before he went to work.

Before she could ask what he was doing, he waved casually at the game now filling the screen. “I can’t believe you’ve been here this long and still haven’t taken the time to learn about football.”

Ginny looked between him and the television with a questioning look on her face. While she had thought the game Draco and his friends found so much fun to watch appeared interesting, she’d never understood enough about it to get into watching the sport. She started to tell him just that, but he was already speaking, and though he was sitting a good distance from her, on the other side of the desk, she caught every word, and was soon absorbed in his explanations.

“Now that chap there, his job is to…”

By the end of the game, they were both gesturing at the screen, his voice far above her scratchy sick tone as he yelled at the referee’s latest call. They were both somewhat startled when Garald came in with two plates of chicken and rice and as he was already sitting, and the food was right there, Draco decided to just stay where he was while he ate. The witch didn’t seem to mind, and as she ate, she did her best to tiredly engage him in conversation. Long after their meals were finished, the two continued to talk.

Remembering that when she had talked to him while he was sick, she had implied that she would like to hear what had been happening for him since he’d left the school and that even after he had started to feel better, he had been too sick to tell his private business. Now that he thought about it though, they were partners in this task, and an equal exchange of information would probably be good for team moral, so he told her a bit about his flight from the school, and how Dumbledore had set him up with the Tonkses. He hadn’t gotten very far into his description of his successes adjusting to the Muggle world when he realized that the reason she had been listening so quietly the past few minutes was because she had fallen asleep.

Heaving out an aggravated sigh at the rudeness of his audience, he gathered up their dishes and made his way down to the kitchen. The last thing on his mind at that moment of course, was the fact that he was currently adjusting to something else now too.

End Chapter Nineteen
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