A/N: Sorry about being late on this chapter. I usually write a new chapter every day, but I've been sick and immobile, so I haven't written. Hopefully you'll all love this chapter, though. I based it around my lovely weekend, but made it a little more eventful so it doesn't blow. (: It's a little short, though, but, ehh... whatever.
Disclaimer: It depresses me terribly, but I own no part of this fan fiction except for the plot. Everything else is copyrighted by JKR.
Draco sipped at his coffee while watching Crispy practice the dance routine. It was a boring day, for no one was around. Ginny had the flu. Blaise had the flu. Small world.
Hermione, now back from the Honeymoon, had been stopping in at Blaise and Ginny's apartment and checking on them: refilling their tissue boxes, cleaning out their vomit buckets, and handing them fallen remotes. Originally, Draco was going to volunteer to take care of them, but Hermione insisted since she had missed Blaise's birthday party.
So, Draco was forced to sit at home and look at Playwizard all alone.
Unfortunately, Crispy had hidden them for a bet. Draco had no idea where they were, and wasn't about to give Crispy twenty galleons to get them, losing the bet. Lonely and dejected (and quite near tears), Draco plopped down and put on the stereo, eager for anything that could possibly cure him of his insatiable boredom. He put his copy of 'Disintegration' in, and watched the visualization on the tiny screen. It nearly gave him a seizure, and he wondered to himself if he could possibly be epileptic, before his mind turned over to Blaise and Ginny, and then just Ginny. He thought about when they were back in Hogwarts, and Ginny was in the shadow of the Golden Trio. He liked Hermione and Ron now, after graduation, but he didn't appreciate that Ginny was always been tossed to the side.
After nearly an hour of thinking about Ginny and the occasional urge to kill himself, he finally brought himself to apparating to Blaise and Ginny's house. Clad in a gas mask, he stepped into the living room, hands on hips.
"Blaise! It's the gas man!" Ginny croaked, her voice deepened and raspy because of her hacking cough.
"Please, Ginny, it's just Hermione," Blaise whispered, not looking up to see who was standing before them.
"Actually," Draco interrupted, "it's Robert Smith."
Ginny gave him a confused look.
"Don't ask—I just listened to like, an hour of the Cure."
She nodded knowingly.
"Well, what are you doing here, lover?" Blaise asked, in the same quiet whisper as before. He must've lost his voice, Draco thought.
"I'm lonely," he admitted, straightening his brown hoody and looking at his shoes.
Ginny sat up, revealing that she was wearing a huge navy blue t-shirt. The collar had slipped over her freckled shoulder, and Draco tried not to stare. "So you visited the immobile sick people?"
"Yes, Ginny. Don't make fun of my lack of friends, alright?"
"Sorry." She smiled at him from her couch, but started coughing uncontrollably and hacked up a table spoon of yellow-green phlegm into the trash can between her and Blaise.
"Can you please do that again? It was really hot." Draco made a face and looked into the trash can, greeted by a stack of used tissues and, on top, the phlegm that Ginny had coughed up.
Ginny smacked him with her nearly-frozen pale hand. Draco flinched.
"Why is your hand, like, ice cold?" he asked, still peering into the trash can, nearly gagging.
"Hey, ignorant," Blaise called, tugging on Draco's earlobe, making him jerk to the side, "she's sick. And so am I, so go get us some Top Ramen, because Hermione hasn't come yet."
Ginny giggled, and Draco obediently waddled to the kitchen.
He took two bowls out of the cabinet and two pans out of another. He filled the pans with water and put them on the stove, then sat at the bar counter. He looked into one of the bowls for lack of anything better to do. The bowl was striped with thick, uneven lines of pale blue and navy blue. The same navy blue as Ginny's t-shirt, he noted. And then he noted that he'd been thinking about her a lot lately.
With a bowl of Ramen in each hand, Draco went back to the living room. He put the two bowls on the coffee table between them that was sitting behind the trash can. Blaise picked his up right away, but Ginny just laid there.
"Gin?" Draco asked, sitting down at the edge of her couch.
"Hmm?" she answered, sitting up.
"Your soup is done."
"I know."
They sat in silence for a while, except for Blaise's slurps, until Draco leaned down and kissed Ginny. The noodles in Blaise's mouth all fell out at once onto his lap, and he watched, not noticing. Draco would surely catch the flu now, but apparently this could not wait until she was healthy.
"Draco, I thought you didn't like girl cooties?" Ginny asked, smiling up at him.
