A/N: I really should be working on my mounds of homework that I have yet
to start, but I couldn't resist the demands of the ever-persistent plot
bunnies! I've become obsessed with the fluffy-ness. I'm so pathetic.
V.V'
Disclaimer: Phaerie doesn't own. So sad, isn't it? ;.;
-:-The Best Cure for the Common Cold-:-
The Advantages and Disadvantages of the Draught of Peace By Virginia Weasley
The Draught of Peace is a potion that is used in helping to calm its drinkers nerves and also..also..also..um...
Ginny let out a short string of curses as she began banging her head on the desktop. It was hopeless. She'd never be able to finish this by tomorrow. Why did she have to exercise the art of procrastination to it's fullest? Snape had assigned the fifth year potions class ¾ of a meter of parchment on the pros and cons of the Draught of Peace two weeks ago, which, in all actuality, wouldn't have taken her more than an hour had she been paying the slightest bit of attention when Snape had been droning on about it. But of course, she hadn't, and now it was the night before the blasted thing was due and she hadn't the foggiest clue as to what she was doing.
As the tip of her quill feather brushed against her cheek, she put it in her mouth and began to chew on it out of habit. She abruptly removed the quill from her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and crossed her eyes. She glared at the stray feather that had come loose and blew it off her tongue. She really needed to break that habit.
She let her eyes fall back to the few words scrawled on the paper and scrunched up her nose. 'I could always wait 'til tomorrow to read Colin's at breakfast and finish it then..' she thought. Ginny grinned at the parchment, rolled it back up, and stuffed it into her bag rather unceremoniously. She stood from the desk chair and stretched, going on her tiptoes and fingers extended to the ceiling. She tried to bite back a yawn as she brought her arms back down and plopped down on the floor by the window.
A chill ran down Ginny's spine as she let her head fall against the frosted windowpane, causing her body to tense for a moment. She soon relaxed and let out a soft sigh, her breath fogging up a small circle of the glass. Her fingertips to the icy surface, Ginny began to draw little spirals on the pane. She soon got bored with this and decided to simply enjoy the few from her dorm room window.
The season's first snow had fallen the previous night, enveloping the grounds in a giant mass of blinding white. A steady stream of smoke was coming out the top of Hagrid's hut and of in the distance, Ginny could just make out a lone figure on the Quidditch pitch, circling high above the stands and then suddenly going into a dive. A small smile came to Ginny's lips as her eyes crinkled in mirth. She knew of only one person who loved flying so much as to risk his or her health in such a way, and that person was none other than Harry Potter.
Even though all she could see from her spot in the Gryffindor tower was a small dot, she could picture exactly what it would look like if she were sitting in the stands at that moment. His eyes would be squinted against the harsh wind and his already unruly hair would be absolutely wild. Harry's cheeks would be tinged a cherry red from the thrill of flying and chill of the crisp air. He would look absolutely adorable. Of course, to Ginny, Harry always looked adorable, well actually, it was more along the lines of drop-dead gorgeous, but that's beside the point.
Standing slowly, she walked over to her trunk and pulled out her gloves, scarf, cloak, and boots. Throwing on the assortment of garments respectively, she headed down to the Common Room and slipped out past Hermione who was curled up in an armchair just by the fire, her nose once again buried in 'Hogwarts: A History'. The heels of her boots clicked loudly on the stone floors as she walked down the winding passages of the castle at a brisk pace.
She wrapped her cloak more tightly around her as she flung open the tall doors and was assaulted by the strong torrent of winter wind. Jumping down the steps, Ginny hummed a muggle song under her breath. 'What was it called again?' she thought, 'Ah, yes, Winter Wonderland. That was it!'
This was much more fun then being stuck up in the tower writing an essay for Snape, she decided as she spun in circles, kicking up the freshly fallen snow as she went. She headed for Hagrid's cabin and was about to pop in and have a chat with him when a glimpse of gold caught her eye. Whipping her head around, her chocolate eyes widened drastically. There, just on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, was a young unicorn, it's golden coat causing it to stick out like a sore thumb in the visage of green and white that surrounded them.
Ginny took a cautious step towards the colt, which immediately ducked back into the thicket of trees. "Wait." Ginny called after it, before she ran daftly into the forest after it. The unicorn darted through the trees with astounding agility, quickly eluding Ginny's futile chase. She stopped in a clearing not too far into the forest to catch her breath. It was hard enough forcing the freezing air into her lungs and back out, but after running just that short distance in her thick winter robes and cloak, it was almost impossible. She bent over, hands on knees, and breathed in giant gulps of air to calm herself.
Finally straitening, she spun in a circle around the clearing, looking for the trees she had entered the clearing through. She felt a familiar sensation in her nose and swiftly pulled out her handkerchief as she sneezed. Wiping her nose, she put the cloth back in her pocket and stared blankly at the scenery before her, noting absent-mindedly that her vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Her eyes dropping more and more as a fever set in, Ginny turned her head upwards toward the sky, where fresh snowflakes were now descending. The last coherent thought she had before passing out was 'More snow? Harry should head in now, before he catches a cold out there on the pitch..'
( ^^)
Harry closed his eyes, marveling in the feel of the frosty air on his skin. The weather was perfect for flying, minus the fact that the temperature had to be well below the freezing point by now. This was easily remedied, however, by the casting a heating charm every hour or so. As Harry's eyes blinked back open languidly, a small spec of gold in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Changing the direction he was flying in to face the Forbidden Forest, he easily spotted the golden unicorn in the snowy-white scenery.
As the unicorn withdrew into the forest, another figure caught grabbed at his attention. It was a black and red blob, for all Harry could tell. Wait? Red? Harry squinted his eyes as he flew in the direction of the 'blob'. Before he was half way there, whoever it was has disappeared into the forest clearly in pursuit of the unicorn, but he had gotten close to make out two distinct qualities of the mysterious person. It was a she, a very petite she. And she had the infamous Weasley red hair.
Harry leaned forward to accelerate his speed, ignoring the painfully chill wind that blew in his face. He skimmed the tops of the trees looking for a flash of gold here or a splash of red there. He soon lost track of the unicorn and backtracked to find Ginny. As he passed a small clearing, he spotted her. Harry quickly descended down to the snow-covered ground and dismounted his broom. He took a step forward and stopped, enamored with the sight before his eyes.
Ginny lay sprawled on the floor of the clearing, her bright hair contrasting beautifully with the white snow that surrounded her as it fanned out around her porcelain-like face. Her cheeks were assented by a light flush brought on by the frigid weather, as were her lips. It then struck him that it was rather odd for Ginny to be unconscious in the middle of the clearing when he knew she was supposed to be finishing up some last minute homework for Snape.
Harry knelt down by her, pushing her bangs back away from her face so that he could feel her forehead before quickly withdrawing it. She felt like she was on fire to his icy touch. He quickly scooped her up in his arms and began making his way out of the forest, his broom left behind in the clearing totally forgotten in his desperation to get Ginny to the infirmary.
It was about the time he was ascending the castles front steps that Harry felt her shift her head so that it was buried in his chest. Ginny's eyes blinked open groggily while she snuggled up to the warm somebody carrying her. She lifted her head a fraction and caught glimpse of a wisp of jet-black, untidy hair along with the rim of what she could only guess were glasses. Harry. Harry was carrying her. Harry was carrying her in his arms. Wait, what?
"Harry?" she croaked out, flinching slightly at the sound of her own voice.
"Shh, Ginny. You passed out in the forest because of a fever. I'm taking you to Pomfrey," he said while glancing down at her just long enough for Ginny to see the worry in his eyes. She snuggled up closer to him. She might as well, it wasn't every day the boy you'd been in love with since you were ten held you in his arms in such a loving way. Well, at least not in Ginny's case.
"You don't have to take me to the Infirmary Harry, I only need a cup of hot chocolate and I'll be right as rain," she said into his chest. Harry looked down at her uncertainly. Ginny, sensing his eyes on her and knowing he didn't believe her, continued, "Trust me. Mum gives me a cup every time a catch a fever and before I know it, I'm back to degnoming the garden."
Harry smiled weakly, "To the kitchens then?" Feeling Ginny's head nod once against his chest, he changed his course and headed for the fruit portrait that was the entrance to the kitchens of Hogwarts. Upon reaching the portrait, it became apparent that Harry had his arms full and couldn't exactly reach up to tickle the pear in the fruit bowl, so he enabled the services of Ginny, "Oy, Gin? Do you think you could tickle the pear? Ginny?" Harry looked down at the now-sleeping form of his best friend's younger sister, but she shifted her body again and opened her eyes.
"Tickle the pear? Yeah, sure.." she said while reaching out sleepily and brushed her fingers over the green pear, which made a door knob appear. She pulled open the kitchen's door before snuggling back up to Harry's chest.
"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Harry asked her uncertainly as he stepped into the kitchens.
"Hm? Oh, it's a' right. I just dozed off, is all. But you can't blame me, I mean, it's not my fault you're so warm and cuddly," she told him lazily, bringing a cherry-red blush to Harry's cheeks. He stared straight ahead, desperately trying to keep his blush under control.
A small hand pulling on the leg of Harry's pants brought him back, and he looked down to see the familiar face of Dobby the house elf. "What can Dobby do for Harry Potter sir? Oh, is Harry Potter sir's Weazey sick sir?" Dobby looked at the girl in Harry's arms slightly worried.
"Erm..yeah. Could you get us a couple of mugs of hot chocolate, it it's not too much trouble?"
"Of course Harry Potter sir! Dobby will be right back!" And with that Dobby was scurrying off to get them their hot chocolate. Harry carried Ginny over to some armchairs near the roaring fire and set in her down in one, sitting in one himself just beside her. Dobby came back with their mugs and Harry thanked him. "You is very welcome Harry Potter sir. I hope your Weazey gets better," and then with a small bow and a smile, he was gone, leaving Harry and Ginny by the fire staring into their mugs.
Harry looked over at Ginny questioningly as she inhaled a giant whiff of the steam emitting from her mug. "What?" she asked, not opening her eyes, but knowing his were on her.
"Aren't you supposed to drink the hot chocolate, not smell it?"
"The scent clears up all my symptoms. Don't know why, I just know that it works every time," she murmured as she began to waft the scent to her nose.
Harry brought his cup to his lips and blew on it before taking a sip and sighing as the warm liquid made it's way down his throat. "So, what were you doing out there in the first place? Finish all of your homework so soon?"
Ginny offered him a sheepish grin before replying, "Well, no. But before you give me a lecture, let me explain myself. I was taking a break, you know, clearing my mind, getting a breath of fresh air. And I was going to tell you to come in before you caught a cold.." she laughed at little at the irony of the situation. Harry smiled a little too. "Mind telling me what you were doing out on the Quidditch pitch?"
"Just practicing. Making sure my flying skills don't get rusty over the break," he said before taking another sip of his coco.
"Practicing were you?" Ginny eyed him suspiciously, "I don't believe that. Even Oliver Wood isn't as die-hard about Quidditch as to go out flying in this weather. So, what were you really doing out there?"
Harry looked into the depths of his mug, "Just..thinking.." he answered her distantly.
Ginny bit her lip and looked into her mug as well. She knew what he was talking about when he said 'thinking,' he had meant he was working through all the possible outcomes of the final battle against Voldermort, and he had also meant he was thinking about death, but not just death, his death. Ginny sat her mug down on the coffee table in front of her rather forcefully, so hard in fact, that the steaming liquid spilled out onto the table and some of it splashed her hand, making her flinch at the pain. This, in turn, caused Harry to look back up at her.
"You have to be more optimistic," she declared with an air of finality.
"What? You want me to walk around thinking I'm going to defeat Voldemort?" Harry said with a bitter laugh and took another swig from his mug.
"I said optimistic, not arrogant. I mean, you can at least give yourself a fair chance, right?"
"So you don't think I can do it then either?"
"No! Quite the contrary actually. I think both you and Voldemort are underestimating your power. I'm almost positive Dumbledore feels just the same. Plus, you've got the power of love on your side. It's practically inconceivable that you should lose."
"But there's still a chance that he'd defeat me?"
"Of course there is! Nothing is ever 100% sure Harry. What would the fun in life be if there were no risks?"
"Is that a rhetorical question?"
"Er..well, I don't know. But if all else fails you might try to remember that if you die in the final battle, you sentence the Wizarding and what's left of the Muggle world by then to slavery and/or death."
"So, no pressure then?"
The only response Harry got from Ginny was a sweet smile before she turned her gaze back to the fire. Harry leaned forward and put the back of his hand to her forehead, passing off the blush that crept to her cheeks as a cause of the heat cast off by the nearby fire.
"Seems your fever's gone," he commented, his tone giving away to his skepticism that such an odd method had really worked.
Ginny frowned and crossed her over her stomach, "I told you so!" she pouted.
"Well then, shall we head back to the tower?" he asked, clumsily sidestepping the question. Ginny nodded and stood up, stomping out of the kitchens. Harry kept glancing over at her to make sure she didn't pass out again, still not believing she was cured. Ginny stumbled once along the way just to see his reaction, and when she saw the panic-stricken look in his eyes as he caught her before she fell to the floor, she laughed, although she was touched that he was so worried about her. Harry set her back on her feet embarrassedly and spent the rest of the journey staring at his shoes. He murmured the password when they reached the Fat Lady and walked through the portrait hole with Ginny.
They stopped just inside the entrance and Ginny turned to Harry. "Thank you Harry," she told him graciously.
"Your welcome Gin. Shall I leave you to your homework then?" Harry smirked at her when she groaned at the prospect of having to actually finish her assignment.
"But Harry - "
"No buts. You should just be glad Hermione isn't here to nag you endlessly until you get it all done."
"True," she said with a sigh. Harry made to go to his own dormitory but stopped abruptly as something above their heads caught his eye. "What?" Ginny asked, looking up as well. And she saw it. Suspended in midair, just out of their reach, was a treacherous bit of mistletoe, just floating up there mockingly.
Harry blushed and looked back down at Ginny, who was still staring up at the mistletoe, dumbstruck. Now of never, I suppose, he thought before bending down slightly to catch Ginny's luscious looking lips with his own.
Ginny was brought out of her daze-like shock when she felt Harry's lips on hers and the shock it immediately sent through her system. Blissful warmth spread from her lips down to the tip of her toes, sending her right back into another daze.
Harry pulled away, flushing a deep red and clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Well, I'll just leave you to your homework then," he said hoarsely before making a mad dash for the stairs that led to the boys' dorms.
Ginny brought a hand up to her lips, lightly brushing her fingers along them, her mind still lavishing in the feeling that small contact had given her. She smiled as she watched him retreat. He had just rekindled that small flame of hope she'd held onto so dearly for so many years with that kiss. She knew he'd only kissed her because of the mistletoe, but he'd let his lips linger for far longer than what mistletoe called for. Not only had that kiss left her with hope and a wish that she'd had some of that hot chocolate instead of just smelling it, but also with a much better cure for her colds.
A/N: ^___^ That was fun, wasn't it? I quite liked that one actually. Anyone notice a theme with the chocolate beginning to surface? Hm..I suppose now is the part where you click on that purple button down there and review. Please? Oh, come on, you know you want to! Click it!
Disclaimer: Phaerie doesn't own. So sad, isn't it? ;.;
-:-The Best Cure for the Common Cold-:-
The Advantages and Disadvantages of the Draught of Peace By Virginia Weasley
The Draught of Peace is a potion that is used in helping to calm its drinkers nerves and also..also..also..um...
Ginny let out a short string of curses as she began banging her head on the desktop. It was hopeless. She'd never be able to finish this by tomorrow. Why did she have to exercise the art of procrastination to it's fullest? Snape had assigned the fifth year potions class ¾ of a meter of parchment on the pros and cons of the Draught of Peace two weeks ago, which, in all actuality, wouldn't have taken her more than an hour had she been paying the slightest bit of attention when Snape had been droning on about it. But of course, she hadn't, and now it was the night before the blasted thing was due and she hadn't the foggiest clue as to what she was doing.
As the tip of her quill feather brushed against her cheek, she put it in her mouth and began to chew on it out of habit. She abruptly removed the quill from her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and crossed her eyes. She glared at the stray feather that had come loose and blew it off her tongue. She really needed to break that habit.
She let her eyes fall back to the few words scrawled on the paper and scrunched up her nose. 'I could always wait 'til tomorrow to read Colin's at breakfast and finish it then..' she thought. Ginny grinned at the parchment, rolled it back up, and stuffed it into her bag rather unceremoniously. She stood from the desk chair and stretched, going on her tiptoes and fingers extended to the ceiling. She tried to bite back a yawn as she brought her arms back down and plopped down on the floor by the window.
A chill ran down Ginny's spine as she let her head fall against the frosted windowpane, causing her body to tense for a moment. She soon relaxed and let out a soft sigh, her breath fogging up a small circle of the glass. Her fingertips to the icy surface, Ginny began to draw little spirals on the pane. She soon got bored with this and decided to simply enjoy the few from her dorm room window.
The season's first snow had fallen the previous night, enveloping the grounds in a giant mass of blinding white. A steady stream of smoke was coming out the top of Hagrid's hut and of in the distance, Ginny could just make out a lone figure on the Quidditch pitch, circling high above the stands and then suddenly going into a dive. A small smile came to Ginny's lips as her eyes crinkled in mirth. She knew of only one person who loved flying so much as to risk his or her health in such a way, and that person was none other than Harry Potter.
Even though all she could see from her spot in the Gryffindor tower was a small dot, she could picture exactly what it would look like if she were sitting in the stands at that moment. His eyes would be squinted against the harsh wind and his already unruly hair would be absolutely wild. Harry's cheeks would be tinged a cherry red from the thrill of flying and chill of the crisp air. He would look absolutely adorable. Of course, to Ginny, Harry always looked adorable, well actually, it was more along the lines of drop-dead gorgeous, but that's beside the point.
Standing slowly, she walked over to her trunk and pulled out her gloves, scarf, cloak, and boots. Throwing on the assortment of garments respectively, she headed down to the Common Room and slipped out past Hermione who was curled up in an armchair just by the fire, her nose once again buried in 'Hogwarts: A History'. The heels of her boots clicked loudly on the stone floors as she walked down the winding passages of the castle at a brisk pace.
She wrapped her cloak more tightly around her as she flung open the tall doors and was assaulted by the strong torrent of winter wind. Jumping down the steps, Ginny hummed a muggle song under her breath. 'What was it called again?' she thought, 'Ah, yes, Winter Wonderland. That was it!'
This was much more fun then being stuck up in the tower writing an essay for Snape, she decided as she spun in circles, kicking up the freshly fallen snow as she went. She headed for Hagrid's cabin and was about to pop in and have a chat with him when a glimpse of gold caught her eye. Whipping her head around, her chocolate eyes widened drastically. There, just on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, was a young unicorn, it's golden coat causing it to stick out like a sore thumb in the visage of green and white that surrounded them.
Ginny took a cautious step towards the colt, which immediately ducked back into the thicket of trees. "Wait." Ginny called after it, before she ran daftly into the forest after it. The unicorn darted through the trees with astounding agility, quickly eluding Ginny's futile chase. She stopped in a clearing not too far into the forest to catch her breath. It was hard enough forcing the freezing air into her lungs and back out, but after running just that short distance in her thick winter robes and cloak, it was almost impossible. She bent over, hands on knees, and breathed in giant gulps of air to calm herself.
Finally straitening, she spun in a circle around the clearing, looking for the trees she had entered the clearing through. She felt a familiar sensation in her nose and swiftly pulled out her handkerchief as she sneezed. Wiping her nose, she put the cloth back in her pocket and stared blankly at the scenery before her, noting absent-mindedly that her vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Her eyes dropping more and more as a fever set in, Ginny turned her head upwards toward the sky, where fresh snowflakes were now descending. The last coherent thought she had before passing out was 'More snow? Harry should head in now, before he catches a cold out there on the pitch..'
( ^^)
Harry closed his eyes, marveling in the feel of the frosty air on his skin. The weather was perfect for flying, minus the fact that the temperature had to be well below the freezing point by now. This was easily remedied, however, by the casting a heating charm every hour or so. As Harry's eyes blinked back open languidly, a small spec of gold in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Changing the direction he was flying in to face the Forbidden Forest, he easily spotted the golden unicorn in the snowy-white scenery.
As the unicorn withdrew into the forest, another figure caught grabbed at his attention. It was a black and red blob, for all Harry could tell. Wait? Red? Harry squinted his eyes as he flew in the direction of the 'blob'. Before he was half way there, whoever it was has disappeared into the forest clearly in pursuit of the unicorn, but he had gotten close to make out two distinct qualities of the mysterious person. It was a she, a very petite she. And she had the infamous Weasley red hair.
Harry leaned forward to accelerate his speed, ignoring the painfully chill wind that blew in his face. He skimmed the tops of the trees looking for a flash of gold here or a splash of red there. He soon lost track of the unicorn and backtracked to find Ginny. As he passed a small clearing, he spotted her. Harry quickly descended down to the snow-covered ground and dismounted his broom. He took a step forward and stopped, enamored with the sight before his eyes.
Ginny lay sprawled on the floor of the clearing, her bright hair contrasting beautifully with the white snow that surrounded her as it fanned out around her porcelain-like face. Her cheeks were assented by a light flush brought on by the frigid weather, as were her lips. It then struck him that it was rather odd for Ginny to be unconscious in the middle of the clearing when he knew she was supposed to be finishing up some last minute homework for Snape.
Harry knelt down by her, pushing her bangs back away from her face so that he could feel her forehead before quickly withdrawing it. She felt like she was on fire to his icy touch. He quickly scooped her up in his arms and began making his way out of the forest, his broom left behind in the clearing totally forgotten in his desperation to get Ginny to the infirmary.
It was about the time he was ascending the castles front steps that Harry felt her shift her head so that it was buried in his chest. Ginny's eyes blinked open groggily while she snuggled up to the warm somebody carrying her. She lifted her head a fraction and caught glimpse of a wisp of jet-black, untidy hair along with the rim of what she could only guess were glasses. Harry. Harry was carrying her. Harry was carrying her in his arms. Wait, what?
"Harry?" she croaked out, flinching slightly at the sound of her own voice.
"Shh, Ginny. You passed out in the forest because of a fever. I'm taking you to Pomfrey," he said while glancing down at her just long enough for Ginny to see the worry in his eyes. She snuggled up closer to him. She might as well, it wasn't every day the boy you'd been in love with since you were ten held you in his arms in such a loving way. Well, at least not in Ginny's case.
"You don't have to take me to the Infirmary Harry, I only need a cup of hot chocolate and I'll be right as rain," she said into his chest. Harry looked down at her uncertainly. Ginny, sensing his eyes on her and knowing he didn't believe her, continued, "Trust me. Mum gives me a cup every time a catch a fever and before I know it, I'm back to degnoming the garden."
Harry smiled weakly, "To the kitchens then?" Feeling Ginny's head nod once against his chest, he changed his course and headed for the fruit portrait that was the entrance to the kitchens of Hogwarts. Upon reaching the portrait, it became apparent that Harry had his arms full and couldn't exactly reach up to tickle the pear in the fruit bowl, so he enabled the services of Ginny, "Oy, Gin? Do you think you could tickle the pear? Ginny?" Harry looked down at the now-sleeping form of his best friend's younger sister, but she shifted her body again and opened her eyes.
"Tickle the pear? Yeah, sure.." she said while reaching out sleepily and brushed her fingers over the green pear, which made a door knob appear. She pulled open the kitchen's door before snuggling back up to Harry's chest.
"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Harry asked her uncertainly as he stepped into the kitchens.
"Hm? Oh, it's a' right. I just dozed off, is all. But you can't blame me, I mean, it's not my fault you're so warm and cuddly," she told him lazily, bringing a cherry-red blush to Harry's cheeks. He stared straight ahead, desperately trying to keep his blush under control.
A small hand pulling on the leg of Harry's pants brought him back, and he looked down to see the familiar face of Dobby the house elf. "What can Dobby do for Harry Potter sir? Oh, is Harry Potter sir's Weazey sick sir?" Dobby looked at the girl in Harry's arms slightly worried.
"Erm..yeah. Could you get us a couple of mugs of hot chocolate, it it's not too much trouble?"
"Of course Harry Potter sir! Dobby will be right back!" And with that Dobby was scurrying off to get them their hot chocolate. Harry carried Ginny over to some armchairs near the roaring fire and set in her down in one, sitting in one himself just beside her. Dobby came back with their mugs and Harry thanked him. "You is very welcome Harry Potter sir. I hope your Weazey gets better," and then with a small bow and a smile, he was gone, leaving Harry and Ginny by the fire staring into their mugs.
Harry looked over at Ginny questioningly as she inhaled a giant whiff of the steam emitting from her mug. "What?" she asked, not opening her eyes, but knowing his were on her.
"Aren't you supposed to drink the hot chocolate, not smell it?"
"The scent clears up all my symptoms. Don't know why, I just know that it works every time," she murmured as she began to waft the scent to her nose.
Harry brought his cup to his lips and blew on it before taking a sip and sighing as the warm liquid made it's way down his throat. "So, what were you doing out there in the first place? Finish all of your homework so soon?"
Ginny offered him a sheepish grin before replying, "Well, no. But before you give me a lecture, let me explain myself. I was taking a break, you know, clearing my mind, getting a breath of fresh air. And I was going to tell you to come in before you caught a cold.." she laughed at little at the irony of the situation. Harry smiled a little too. "Mind telling me what you were doing out on the Quidditch pitch?"
"Just practicing. Making sure my flying skills don't get rusty over the break," he said before taking another sip of his coco.
"Practicing were you?" Ginny eyed him suspiciously, "I don't believe that. Even Oliver Wood isn't as die-hard about Quidditch as to go out flying in this weather. So, what were you really doing out there?"
Harry looked into the depths of his mug, "Just..thinking.." he answered her distantly.
Ginny bit her lip and looked into her mug as well. She knew what he was talking about when he said 'thinking,' he had meant he was working through all the possible outcomes of the final battle against Voldermort, and he had also meant he was thinking about death, but not just death, his death. Ginny sat her mug down on the coffee table in front of her rather forcefully, so hard in fact, that the steaming liquid spilled out onto the table and some of it splashed her hand, making her flinch at the pain. This, in turn, caused Harry to look back up at her.
"You have to be more optimistic," she declared with an air of finality.
"What? You want me to walk around thinking I'm going to defeat Voldemort?" Harry said with a bitter laugh and took another swig from his mug.
"I said optimistic, not arrogant. I mean, you can at least give yourself a fair chance, right?"
"So you don't think I can do it then either?"
"No! Quite the contrary actually. I think both you and Voldemort are underestimating your power. I'm almost positive Dumbledore feels just the same. Plus, you've got the power of love on your side. It's practically inconceivable that you should lose."
"But there's still a chance that he'd defeat me?"
"Of course there is! Nothing is ever 100% sure Harry. What would the fun in life be if there were no risks?"
"Is that a rhetorical question?"
"Er..well, I don't know. But if all else fails you might try to remember that if you die in the final battle, you sentence the Wizarding and what's left of the Muggle world by then to slavery and/or death."
"So, no pressure then?"
The only response Harry got from Ginny was a sweet smile before she turned her gaze back to the fire. Harry leaned forward and put the back of his hand to her forehead, passing off the blush that crept to her cheeks as a cause of the heat cast off by the nearby fire.
"Seems your fever's gone," he commented, his tone giving away to his skepticism that such an odd method had really worked.
Ginny frowned and crossed her over her stomach, "I told you so!" she pouted.
"Well then, shall we head back to the tower?" he asked, clumsily sidestepping the question. Ginny nodded and stood up, stomping out of the kitchens. Harry kept glancing over at her to make sure she didn't pass out again, still not believing she was cured. Ginny stumbled once along the way just to see his reaction, and when she saw the panic-stricken look in his eyes as he caught her before she fell to the floor, she laughed, although she was touched that he was so worried about her. Harry set her back on her feet embarrassedly and spent the rest of the journey staring at his shoes. He murmured the password when they reached the Fat Lady and walked through the portrait hole with Ginny.
They stopped just inside the entrance and Ginny turned to Harry. "Thank you Harry," she told him graciously.
"Your welcome Gin. Shall I leave you to your homework then?" Harry smirked at her when she groaned at the prospect of having to actually finish her assignment.
"But Harry - "
"No buts. You should just be glad Hermione isn't here to nag you endlessly until you get it all done."
"True," she said with a sigh. Harry made to go to his own dormitory but stopped abruptly as something above their heads caught his eye. "What?" Ginny asked, looking up as well. And she saw it. Suspended in midair, just out of their reach, was a treacherous bit of mistletoe, just floating up there mockingly.
Harry blushed and looked back down at Ginny, who was still staring up at the mistletoe, dumbstruck. Now of never, I suppose, he thought before bending down slightly to catch Ginny's luscious looking lips with his own.
Ginny was brought out of her daze-like shock when she felt Harry's lips on hers and the shock it immediately sent through her system. Blissful warmth spread from her lips down to the tip of her toes, sending her right back into another daze.
Harry pulled away, flushing a deep red and clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Well, I'll just leave you to your homework then," he said hoarsely before making a mad dash for the stairs that led to the boys' dorms.
Ginny brought a hand up to her lips, lightly brushing her fingers along them, her mind still lavishing in the feeling that small contact had given her. She smiled as she watched him retreat. He had just rekindled that small flame of hope she'd held onto so dearly for so many years with that kiss. She knew he'd only kissed her because of the mistletoe, but he'd let his lips linger for far longer than what mistletoe called for. Not only had that kiss left her with hope and a wish that she'd had some of that hot chocolate instead of just smelling it, but also with a much better cure for her colds.
A/N: ^___^ That was fun, wasn't it? I quite liked that one actually. Anyone notice a theme with the chocolate beginning to surface? Hm..I suppose now is the part where you click on that purple button down there and review. Please? Oh, come on, you know you want to! Click it!