A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters

This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Assignment #7 Cosmology Task #2: write a rare dark/light pairing. Must have less than 300 fics - Pansy/Ginny 185 fics

Word count: 751

"Wonderful," Ginny muttered under her breath. Her day had been anything but if she was being honest. Lately it seemed like the bad days were outnumbering the good ones. Today had started out bad. She'd managed to oversleep, missed her first class, forgotten to get something to eat, and now, her head was spinning.

She closed her eyes trying to get the sensation of being in a tornado. She leaned against the wall, slowly sinking to the floor, her head in her hands. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Why had she stayed up so late last night? It wasn't as if the essay couldn't have waited to a sane hour to be finished. It wasn't as if she really needed to worry about her grade in charms. If she'd turned it in as is, she would have probably had an A.

"You know, you make a pretty ugly doorstop, Weaslette," a voice commented. Ginny slowly lifted her head and found herself staring at Pansy Parkinson. She didn't know the girl personally, since they weren't in the same year.

"I'm not trying to be a doorstop, Pugface," Ginny snapped, knowing that's what her brother called Pansy.

"Well, you're being one. What? You have to sit outside the classroom in hopes that someone will take pity on you and speak to you?"

"You're speaking to me, so I guess it worked," Ginny snapped, wishing her head would stop pounding. Pansy frowned, an expression that Ginny found amusing.

"Fine, maybe I am, it's not like I'm desperate for attention like you," Pansy replied, but her voice had lost some of its venom.

"Want to take a seat, or do you enjoy giving me a look at your nose hairs?" Ginny asked, nodding to the spot on the floor next to her. She didn't trust herself to stand up, the world was still spinning and she realized she was starting to feel a little flush. She remembered now that a good amount of her housemates were out sick with the flu. Had she managed to catch it?

"I do not have nose hair!" Pansy exclaimed, flopping down dramatically next to Ginny.

"I call them as I see them," Ginny retorted. Pansy glanced over at the Gryffindor girl, noticing her slightly glazed eyes.

"You're delirious then, probably because you're feverish and pretending you're not. You know, you're not half as stupid as everyone claims, you would have made a good Slytherin."

"Hat almost did," Ginny admitted, starting to shiver a little. Pansy frowned.

"You should go the infirmary, Weaslette," she commented, watching Ginny.

"Would if I could, Pugface. Standing makes the whole room go wonky. Any chance you want to help a girl out? I promise I don't bite," Ginny added, snorting.

"I should just leave you here, you know that, let Potter or one of your idiot brothers come deal with you."

"But...?" Ginny asked, her voice taking on a slightly sing songy tone the Pansy couldn't bring herself to resist.

"But if you pass out and hit your head, well, I don't want my good name tarnished," Pansy finished, standing back up. She pulled Ginny to her feet, wrapped an arm around the redhead's waist and started walking her down the hallway. She could feel the heat radiating from Ginny.

"You know, you're really not a pug face, you're face is too pwetty," Ginny commented as they walked. Pansy ignored her. The girl was most certainly not lucid. The fever had taken what she called a mind. They finally reached the infirmary, Ginny having been hitting on Pansy most of the trip.

"There, you're here. I've got class, have fun explaining how you almost kissed me to whatever boy you're shagging up with at the moment," Pansy stated, handing Ginny off to Madame Promfrey. Ginny burst out lauging.

"Not shagging any boys right now, wouldn't mind you though?"

Pansy rolled her brown eyes and scurried off, the feel of Ginny's skin against hers lingering on her mind. She'd check on Weaslette tomorrow, see if she'd come to her senses. It wasn't like she liked the girl, mind you, but feverish people and drunk people had one thing in common, they said what they felt, their true feelings. Pansy couldn't help but harbor a smidgen of hope that maybe, just maybe, the feelings Weaslette had been confessing hadn't been some delusion brought on by her fever. It had been a long time since someone had liked Pansy for being Pansy.