Draco groaned as he rolled over. Why did he hurt so much? And since when was his bed so uncomfortable? It seemed smaller and stiffer than he was used to. He cracked his eyes open and instantly regretted it. His head felt like it was splitting in two.
Squeezing his eyes shut again, he tried to ease the pain. That’s when he noticed the smell. It was like something dead had been burned up. What was going on? His first thought was that Crabbe and Goyle were doing something stupid again.
Very slowly, so as not to make his headache worse, he opened his eyes again. Looking around, he immediately realized that he wasn’t in his dormitory. He was on a couch in front of a large fireplace. He didn’t recognize what he could see of the room and had no idea where he was.
A piece of paper on the floor caught his attention. He reached down, ignoring the ache in his shoulder, and picked it up. As soon as he saw the words written across the page, everything came back to him: reading the letter from his father, the feelings of anger and disgust, the Firewhisky, and then kind words breaking into his dreams.
He began to study the room in closer detail. A recently used cauldron stood by the fire and a cupboard full of potion components had been left hanging open. Someone else had been in the room with him. Unless he’d somehow become a sleepwalker, which was completely unlikely seeing as he was a pretty deep sleeper.
There was a couch next to his, and, sure enough, there was someone laying on it. From this angle, though, all he could see was a pile of blankets and a small hand peeking out from underneath. The figure was small, though, and he didn’t know anyone who was that small. Except Pansy, but she would have been on his couch, hangover or not.
There was a table between the couches, and on the table was a vial full of a disgusting looking potion. Next to the vial was a note that simply read "Sobering potion. Drink up" in tiny, elegant letters. Perfect! Thank you to whoever was on that couch!
Draco grabbed the potion and drank it quickly, not savoring the taste at all. After a moment, he began to feel better. The churning in his stomach subsided and his head stopped pounding. He was still sore, however. He thought he remembered something about stairs, but he’d been pretty out of it.
He tenderly felt the bruises that he couldn’t recall getting. Nothing too bad. Just sore. He had a knot on his forehead and a couple of sore spots on his arms and legs, but it was minimal. Thankfully nothing that would leave any permanent damage.
Carefully he climbed off the couch and stepped over to the sleeping form of his rescuer. Two crumpled robes were piled on the floor and he made sure not to walk on them. He looked down at the figure and at once his eyes took in the long red hair of who else but Ginny Weasley. You’re kidding, right? he thought.
Draco stood there for a minute, trying to convince himself that it couldn’t be her. Without his permission, his eyes studied her face. She was sleeping like only one who was completely exhausted could. Her breathing was deep and steady, and she hadn’t stirred at any of the noise he’d made that morning.
Had she really stayed with him all night? It seemed unlikely that she would, and yet, here she was. Draco had never been drunk before, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t been pleasant. He couldn’t actually remember anything, but he had been angry, so he’d probably yelled.
She had a light purple bruise forming on one side of her jaw and he hoped he hadn’t put it there. He’d never hit a girl and didn’t want to start any time soon. The memory of a nightmare popped into his head. The Dark Lord, with his ugly, snake-like head, ordering him to kill fellow students.
He remembered that gentle voice he had heard every time the dream got bad. It had pulled him out of it and into a much quieter place. Could that have been Weasley? The sound had been comforting. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Ginny as the type to comfort him when he had bad dreams. Then again, who could it have been? She was the only one here.
Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which was remarkably smooth, considering the sort of night he’d had. As he thought about it, he could remember bits of what she’d said to him. “No one’s here, Draco. You’re safe.” She’d said that several times. Even now, fully awake, he felt calmer just remembering it.
Draco had a sudden urge to touch her and tell her ‘thank you’. She’s asleep, isn’t she? his mind reasoned. She’d never know.
And so he did. He reached down and smoothed the backs of his fingers over her cheek as softly as he could. He opened his mouth to say thank you… and she was awake! Her eyes flew wide as she realized who was standing over her.
Draco jerked his hand back from her face as if he’d been burned. He felt so stupid right then. How was it that she could sleep through him walking around, but as soon as he touched her she was up? It just wasn’t right.
“What are you doing?” Ginny shrieked, going as red as her hair. “You took your potion, right?” She glanced over at the empty vial sitting on the table.
“Yes,” Draco replied, confused. “Why?” What did that have to do with anything?
“Why are you touching me?” she countered. She looked up at him and he noticed that she had dark circles under her eyes. She must not have slept very much. For the first time in his life, he felt sorry for someone else.
Draco felt himself flush. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, not quite meeting her gaze. He felt bad for being the reason she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. “I wanted to say thank you and that’s a lot easier when you’re asleep.”
“Oh.” She seemed to relax. Then she looked down at her lap. “But why were you touching me?” she asked again in a small voice.
“I already said I don’t know!” He was beginning to get angry. It was bad enough that he’d done it in the first place, then got caught. Why did she have to keep bringing it up?
Ginny threw the blankets off of herself and stood up. Her hair was tangled and her clothes were wrinkled, making her look like some strange, wild beauty come to wreak havoc. Draco wondered again why she’d stayed with him all night, not even noticing that he'd likened her to a beauty.
“Don’t. Do it. Again,” she threatened, her words breaking into separate sentences that somehow sounded more menacing than if she’d said it all together.
Draco took an involuntary step backwards. He could have killed himself when she smirked at that. A tiny gleam appeared in her eyes and she said, “Nervous, little ferret?”
Surprisingly he wasn’t angry when she said that. Most of the time, people called him a ferret like it was a vile curse. But not with her. It seemed like a joke… good-natured, even. Her voice was light. Not quite nice, but it didn’t have the usual menace, making her words seem kinder.
“Of course not,” Draco said. “I just thought it would be wise to stay out of your reach. You’re obviously not a morning person.”
Ginny picked up her school robes and bag off the floor and looked disdainfully at him, her pert little nose stuck into the air. “You need a shower, Malfoy,” she stated, her eyes pointedly dragging over his disheveled appearance.
Draco glance down at his trousers and wrinkled shirt, then back at her. “You don’t look much better, Weasley.” He felt a little bad about saying it. After all, the only reason she looked that way was because she’d stayed in here with his sorry, drunken self all night.
“I wasn’t talking about how you look, Draco.” Her voice was infuriatingly serene. She looked him up and down one more time, this time wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something foul. Which she probably did, come to think of it.
Draco looked at her, too stunned to speak. He was used to getting the last word, but how did one respond to that? Especially since she was right. He tried to force something out, but only succeeded in opening and closing his mouth silently.
“Oh, yeah. That’s real nice,” she said smugly, clearly pleased with herself for getting the better of him. “Now you look like a fish.” She then turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her red hair swaying behind her.
“Wait!” Draco called after her; but it was too late. “Thank you for your help,” he said to the empty room.
Squeezing his eyes shut again, he tried to ease the pain. That’s when he noticed the smell. It was like something dead had been burned up. What was going on? His first thought was that Crabbe and Goyle were doing something stupid again.
Very slowly, so as not to make his headache worse, he opened his eyes again. Looking around, he immediately realized that he wasn’t in his dormitory. He was on a couch in front of a large fireplace. He didn’t recognize what he could see of the room and had no idea where he was.
A piece of paper on the floor caught his attention. He reached down, ignoring the ache in his shoulder, and picked it up. As soon as he saw the words written across the page, everything came back to him: reading the letter from his father, the feelings of anger and disgust, the Firewhisky, and then kind words breaking into his dreams.
He began to study the room in closer detail. A recently used cauldron stood by the fire and a cupboard full of potion components had been left hanging open. Someone else had been in the room with him. Unless he’d somehow become a sleepwalker, which was completely unlikely seeing as he was a pretty deep sleeper.
There was a couch next to his, and, sure enough, there was someone laying on it. From this angle, though, all he could see was a pile of blankets and a small hand peeking out from underneath. The figure was small, though, and he didn’t know anyone who was that small. Except Pansy, but she would have been on his couch, hangover or not.
There was a table between the couches, and on the table was a vial full of a disgusting looking potion. Next to the vial was a note that simply read "Sobering potion. Drink up" in tiny, elegant letters. Perfect! Thank you to whoever was on that couch!
Draco grabbed the potion and drank it quickly, not savoring the taste at all. After a moment, he began to feel better. The churning in his stomach subsided and his head stopped pounding. He was still sore, however. He thought he remembered something about stairs, but he’d been pretty out of it.
He tenderly felt the bruises that he couldn’t recall getting. Nothing too bad. Just sore. He had a knot on his forehead and a couple of sore spots on his arms and legs, but it was minimal. Thankfully nothing that would leave any permanent damage.
Carefully he climbed off the couch and stepped over to the sleeping form of his rescuer. Two crumpled robes were piled on the floor and he made sure not to walk on them. He looked down at the figure and at once his eyes took in the long red hair of who else but Ginny Weasley. You’re kidding, right? he thought.
Draco stood there for a minute, trying to convince himself that it couldn’t be her. Without his permission, his eyes studied her face. She was sleeping like only one who was completely exhausted could. Her breathing was deep and steady, and she hadn’t stirred at any of the noise he’d made that morning.
Had she really stayed with him all night? It seemed unlikely that she would, and yet, here she was. Draco had never been drunk before, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t been pleasant. He couldn’t actually remember anything, but he had been angry, so he’d probably yelled.
She had a light purple bruise forming on one side of her jaw and he hoped he hadn’t put it there. He’d never hit a girl and didn’t want to start any time soon. The memory of a nightmare popped into his head. The Dark Lord, with his ugly, snake-like head, ordering him to kill fellow students.
He remembered that gentle voice he had heard every time the dream got bad. It had pulled him out of it and into a much quieter place. Could that have been Weasley? The sound had been comforting. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Ginny as the type to comfort him when he had bad dreams. Then again, who could it have been? She was the only one here.
Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which was remarkably smooth, considering the sort of night he’d had. As he thought about it, he could remember bits of what she’d said to him. “No one’s here, Draco. You’re safe.” She’d said that several times. Even now, fully awake, he felt calmer just remembering it.
Draco had a sudden urge to touch her and tell her ‘thank you’. She’s asleep, isn’t she? his mind reasoned. She’d never know.
And so he did. He reached down and smoothed the backs of his fingers over her cheek as softly as he could. He opened his mouth to say thank you… and she was awake! Her eyes flew wide as she realized who was standing over her.
Draco jerked his hand back from her face as if he’d been burned. He felt so stupid right then. How was it that she could sleep through him walking around, but as soon as he touched her she was up? It just wasn’t right.
“What are you doing?” Ginny shrieked, going as red as her hair. “You took your potion, right?” She glanced over at the empty vial sitting on the table.
“Yes,” Draco replied, confused. “Why?” What did that have to do with anything?
“Why are you touching me?” she countered. She looked up at him and he noticed that she had dark circles under her eyes. She must not have slept very much. For the first time in his life, he felt sorry for someone else.
Draco felt himself flush. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, not quite meeting her gaze. He felt bad for being the reason she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. “I wanted to say thank you and that’s a lot easier when you’re asleep.”
“Oh.” She seemed to relax. Then she looked down at her lap. “But why were you touching me?” she asked again in a small voice.
“I already said I don’t know!” He was beginning to get angry. It was bad enough that he’d done it in the first place, then got caught. Why did she have to keep bringing it up?
Ginny threw the blankets off of herself and stood up. Her hair was tangled and her clothes were wrinkled, making her look like some strange, wild beauty come to wreak havoc. Draco wondered again why she’d stayed with him all night, not even noticing that he'd likened her to a beauty.
“Don’t. Do it. Again,” she threatened, her words breaking into separate sentences that somehow sounded more menacing than if she’d said it all together.
Draco took an involuntary step backwards. He could have killed himself when she smirked at that. A tiny gleam appeared in her eyes and she said, “Nervous, little ferret?”
Surprisingly he wasn’t angry when she said that. Most of the time, people called him a ferret like it was a vile curse. But not with her. It seemed like a joke… good-natured, even. Her voice was light. Not quite nice, but it didn’t have the usual menace, making her words seem kinder.
“Of course not,” Draco said. “I just thought it would be wise to stay out of your reach. You’re obviously not a morning person.”
Ginny picked up her school robes and bag off the floor and looked disdainfully at him, her pert little nose stuck into the air. “You need a shower, Malfoy,” she stated, her eyes pointedly dragging over his disheveled appearance.
Draco glance down at his trousers and wrinkled shirt, then back at her. “You don’t look much better, Weasley.” He felt a little bad about saying it. After all, the only reason she looked that way was because she’d stayed in here with his sorry, drunken self all night.
“I wasn’t talking about how you look, Draco.” Her voice was infuriatingly serene. She looked him up and down one more time, this time wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something foul. Which she probably did, come to think of it.
Draco looked at her, too stunned to speak. He was used to getting the last word, but how did one respond to that? Especially since she was right. He tried to force something out, but only succeeded in opening and closing his mouth silently.
“Oh, yeah. That’s real nice,” she said smugly, clearly pleased with herself for getting the better of him. “Now you look like a fish.” She then turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her red hair swaying behind her.
“Wait!” Draco called after her; but it was too late. “Thank you for your help,” he said to the empty room.
Author notes: Well, there you have it! I hope that was good. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I'm even okay with people telling me what they don't like, so long as it's nice. So go! Push that button! I know you want to! I'd like to thank psyche, choravenclaw, Dark_Angel, Rosalie, and shezachica85 for their reviews. Loves!
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