AN: I love all of you who have reviewed! The last time I checked I had 111 reviews, and in my book that equates to 111 reasons to be happy. This chapter is kind of short for me but I've been pretty busy with a lot of stuff.
This chapter and every review it earns is dedicated to my best friend Carly. I'm holding you in my prayers.
Bringing Down Addie
Chapter Six
A Parade of Pom-Poms and Maggie's
I've decided that I have the worst luck to befall anyone of my generation. I mean, come on. Just when I have enough on my plate to deal with I go and get myself sick. I must be suffering from prolonged stress. Yes, that's it.
But, I digress.
I really do have awful luck though. I've been propped up on the couch for three days now being force fed fluids by Hermione. Not exactly an ideal way to spend one's time.
As an added bonus to this whole sham Addie popped her pointy little head in while in a search for Harry and decided to ridicule me.
"Addie, we do not allow trash in this household." I told her politely when she stomped into the living room turned infirmary. I was pleased to note, however, that she looked rather pale herself.
She just sent me a withering sigh.
"Leave." I said curtly.
"Do you know where Harry is?" She drawled.
"I'm sick." I coughed into my hand for effect. "Which has caused me to become delusional."
"What does that mean." She snapped impatiently.
"It means, I don't know." I told her tonelessly.
"You are maddening." She sneered. It was the most flushed I think I had ever seen her.
"I'll take that as a compliment." I said proudly.
"Do you know where he may be?" She asked impolitely.
"I think 'I don't know' falls under the category of a definite - no." I deadpanned.
"I'm leaving." She huffed.
"Don't let me stop you." I made a pushing motion with my hands trying to instill in her my wishes.
"What do you have?" She looked down at my prone form on the couch disdainfully.
"The plague." I said seriously. She scoffed. "It's very serious. I might die."
"Sarcasm doesn't suit you." She informed me with scorn.
"I'll keep that in mind." I sniffed. My nose was running after all.
"Goodbye Ginny." She called as she clicked off.
"Goodbye Ginny." I mocked under my breath.
A few minutes later Hermione sidled into the room and sat down on the edge of the couch.
"Feeling better?" She enquired.
"No." I said sullenly.
"I have something that might make you feel better." She said in a singsong voice.
"Please tell me it doesn't involve reading." I said grumpily.
"No." She swatted at my arm in annoyance. "Harry's coming over tonight."
"Ugh." I groaned as I sunk under my blanket.
"What's wrong?" Hermione frowned. "I thought you'd be excited."
I poked my nose out from the blankets. "Would you be excited if Ron came over and saw you coughing up hairballs?" I asked.
"Well, probably not." She responded slowly.
"See?" I pleaded plaintively.
"Alright fine." Hermione conceded. "But he wants to come see how you're doing and he's bringing some of your mum's homemade chicken soup with him."
"Chicken soup?" I asked hopefully. Hermione nodded. "With those spindly noodles?"
"I'm sure of it."
"Alright then." I popped my head back under my quilt. "But I'm only coming out for the soup."
"It must be pretty good soup." Hermione said thoughtfully. I nodded informatively.
She left the room after then leaving me to nurse a stomachache and a case of terminal boredom.
I rifled through months and months worth of outdated magazines and newspapers. My favorites were the ones that had the crossword puzzles. Great fun the crossword puzzle.
But even after awhile the crossword became about as invigorating as a comatose slug. I tapped my foot around in a very rhythmic beat for a while. And then I made paper airplanes. I even got out my craft glue and made pom-pom bunnies to donate to the orphanage.
I felt very accomplished as I sat on the floor facing my row of neatly assembled pom-pom bunnies with a satisfied grin on my face.
"And you get the top hat." I said to one of the pink ones as I glued a little black piece of felt onto its head. I really was delusional. It was Hermione and all her loopy fluids. I swear. "You get the bow tie." I said to the blue one. "And you," I smiled at the green one. "Get the sparkly tie."
My costume assignments were abruptly halted when I heard a hearty chuckle from the door. I gave a spasm of surprise as I registered the fact that Harry was standing in front of me clutching onto a container of soup.
I flashed my eyes over to the window and cursed myself for not noticing that it was dark outside already.
"Hello Harry." I said with as much dignity as I could muster.
"Hey Gin." He plopped down on the floor next to me, set the soup down, and examined the bunnies with a cocked head.
"I'm making pom-pom bunnies." I informed him.
"I can see that." He said lightly.
"For the orphanage." I continued. I saw a flicker of something cross across his face.
"Can I help?" He asked with a smile.
"Sure." I smiled back.
"What do I do?" He asked.
"Glue those together." I handed him the materials and demonstrated with mine.
"Like that?" He asked uncertainly.
"Good." I praised him. "Then you put on the googly eyes."
Soon Harry and I had piles upon piles of pom-pom bunnies surrounding us.
"Put a flower on that one's head." I instructed him as I pointed at a yellow bunny devoid of any decorations.
"Alright then." He put on the flower.
I changed my mind. I like my luck. If my luck means that Harry and I can make pom-pom bunnies together then I love my luck. A lot.
But of course all forms of luck come with side effects. My side effect was lots of sneezing and a fuzzy little pounding noise in the back of my head. I, in a show of sheer embarrassment, sneezed all over Harry.
I groaned inwardly. Now he was going to leave my pom-pom bunnies and me all alone. It was a miserable thought.
But, to my surprise he merely smiled and handed me a tissue.
"Thanks." I mumbled.
"How are you feeling?" He asked. It was the first time he had brought up the fact that I currently resembled more of a fungus than an actual person.
"Eh."
"Eh?"
"Eh."
"Does 'eh' translate into wanting some of your mum's soup?" He asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"Does it have the spindly noodles?" I countered.
"I made sure of it." He replied.
"Then 'eh' means soup." I answered as I leaned further into the couch.
"I'll go pour you some." He announced before he sat up and did a balanced little dance around the bunnies to get to the kitchen.
I smiled after him. He was too good to me.
I started to arrange the bunnies by color and had just begun contemplating the possibilities of creating pom-pom kittens when I heard the whooshing noise of someone flooing in over by the fireplace.
I perked my head up. Maybe it was Ron brining me ice cream.
It wasn't.
My face went slack as I registered the fact that Aidan was now standing in my living room bouncing around on the balls of his feet and gripping onto a bouquet of red roses. I like red roses. I just don't like them from Aidan.
"Hello Ginny." He greeted me warmly.
"Hi." I squeaked. He came forward and crouched down next to me.
"I heard you were sick."
"How?"
"A friend of mine." He answered.
"Oh." I trailed off and played with the fraying edges of one of my blankets. "How do you have access to my floo network?" I asked him quizzically.
"Well, being the Minister's son does have its advantages." He replied smugly.
Have I mentioned how much I hate the government?
"I'm making pom-pom bunnies." I informed him.
"Oh." He looked considerably uncomfortable. I frowned at him. For some reason it hadn't sounded as stupid when I had told Harry.
"They're for the orphanage." I told him. I really wanted him to not think I was weird. I wanted to gauge his reaction. I wanted to compare him to Harry. But he wasn't like Harry. I was stuck with him and he couldn't even compete. He didn't even offer to help me make them.
There was a very painful silence.
"So." He clapped his hands together and looked at me expectantly. "There's this Ministry event I want to take you to when you get better." I made some uncommitted noise in the back of my throat, which he must have taken for agreement. He was so wrong. "It's a dinner for all the Quidditch teams in the league and their biggest fans." He continued on with exuberance. "You like Quidditch."
"Who doesn't?" I smiled at him weakly.
"That's the spirit." He clapped me hard on the back. And I choked on my saliva. It must have gone down the wrong tube or something because I was having an extremely hard time filtering air through my lungs. "You really are sick." He commented. I wanted to take a jump-start in removing his manhood when he edged away from me.
"Very." I wheezed.
"Don't worry then. The dinner isn't for a while yet." He said. Oh, yes, like that was going to make it all better.
"Gin I have – " Harry walked in with a bowl of soup but broke off when he realized there was someone else in the room. "Oh, hello." He nodded at Aidan politely.
"Harry Potter." Aidan exclaimed with importance. "I attended your open training session last week. You flew remarkably." He jumped up and wrung Harry's hand about vigorously.
"Er, thanks." Harry said sheepishly. His cheeks were coloring at the unexpected attention.
"I'm a huge supporter of the Falcons myself. Best team in the league if you ask me." Aidan continued on pompously. I blinked. He had to be channeling Percy. "I know the coach personally."
"Yeah, they're a pretty good group of guys." Harry said approvingly. He scooted to the side and set my soup down next to me.
"Sit." I mouthed to him. He plopped down immediately. Aidan didn't seem to notice our brief exchange as he came and sat down on my other side still babbling on about Quidditch statistics and other things of that nature.
I stopped paying full attention when I had the soup in my hands. I pushed the broth around with the spoon for a while just to make sure the noodles were spindly, and upon confirmation I dove in.
It really was good soup.
After I had gotten a good taste I tuned my ear back onto what Aidan and Harry were discussing.
"My new novel, if I do say so myself, is riveting." Aidan bragged.
"Oh." Harry actually sounded interested. "Have you had anything else published?"
"No, but I've had many offers." He emphasized many. "But none seemed to be the right fit for me."
"Ah." There was really nothing else to say to something like that. "I'm sorry. I don't believe I ever caught your name." Harry alerted.
"Aidan Kinsella." Aidan held his hand out again to be shaken. I watched with a real interest as Harry took Aidan's hand in his own, and shook it with more pressure than was probably necessary. When he released it Aidan did a wincy thing and shook his hand a bit. I was betting to restore blood flow. "Firm grip you've got." Aidan smiled over at me. "That's always a good judge of character." I looked over at Harry and had to bite back a giggle at his satisfied sneer.
This would be good.
"Gin's told me so much about you." Harry plastered an inviting smile onto his face.
"All good I hope." He said a bit apprehensively.
"Oh, nothing but the best." Harry said with gusto. "She's very taken with you." Oh, Good boy.
I pretended to be blushing and withering at that statement. Aidan looked distinctly relieved.
"Well I'm quite taken with her too."
"Have you met the family yet?" Harry asked.
"No. No, can't say I have." Aidan looked over at me with a chuckle. I just sipped another spoonful of my soup.
"Yes, well." Harry put a pensive look on his face. "Good luck with that." He let a low whistle out from between a set of clenched teeth.
"Why?" Aidan gulped and looked at Harry expectantly.
"She didn't tell you." Harry asked, aghast.
"No. Tell me what?" His voice was getting more and more anxious.
"She's got six older brothers. The youngest being my best mate." Harry informed with a wicked grin. "They don't approve of many of their little sister's chosen male companions."
"Oh, come now." Aidan tried to downplay the severity that Harry's voice carried. "She's a grown woman. They can't have that much of a say."
"You'd be surprised." Harry's voice was low. "There was this one bloke a year ago, and, well…" He switched his gaze to the floor mournfully before snapping it back up quickly to Aidan's. The little sod jumped. "We don't like to talk about it." Aidan cleared his throat and looked to me for confirmation. I nodded with my head bowed low.
I listened to Harry's scare tactics for a bit longer before I got bored. Back to the soup.
I was halfway done with my bowl and bringing another spoonful to my lips when it was knocked unceremoniously from my hands and into my lap. I yelped.
It was really hot soup.
"Come here." Harry took the bowl and pressed a towel into my hands.
Aidan just sat there.
"What happened?" He asked.
"You knocked her soup over." Harry said coolly. Did I detect a hint of disdain?
"Did I?" He asked. Harry sent him a glare as he helped me to stand up. "I mean, I'm sorry Ginny. Let me help you." He pulled me out of Harry's grasp.
"That's okay. I can just take her to her room to change. It would take you too long to find it." Harry yanked me back over next to him.
"I don't know if I like the idea of my girlfriend being accompanied to her bedroom with another bloke." And I was back with Aidan.
"I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of her, unlike some people in this room." Harry growled. And I was back with Harry.
"You don't understand what you're talking about." Aidan hissed. And I was back with Aidan.
You know, I had always wanted to have a pair of blokes fight over me. It's a very romantic thought to entertain. I remember one of my favorite daydreams as a kid was that the very cute boy next door who I made mud pies with would fight a daring battle in my honor against this stupid little rugrat who used to call me carrot top. But the fact of the matter is it's a lot more painful in real life than it is in the dreams. Especially when you're already harboring a dangerously high temperature and a queasy stomach, I might add.
"I understand perfectly well. You got her drunk and you used her. Now, she's staying with you to save me." Harry was practically shouting the roof off as he pulled me securely behind hid back.
Aidan tried to scrabble around Harry. I presume to grab me again. But he was not match for Harry's Quidditch and war training. Aidan just settled for yelling.
"Ginny and I have worked out our differences and I will have you know that we are very much in LOVE!" Aidan really was quite red. I noticed, with a twisted hint of satisfaction, that Harry twitched at the declaration.
Hermione was in the room now clutching onto a dishrag with a mixture of something akin to horror and satisfaction written plainly across her face. I was feeling pretty much exactly the same.
And I had to admit it was all entertaining – a little hard on the limbs – but nonetheless entertaining. If only I didn't have rapidly cooling chicken soup resting in an area that chafes extremely easily. I sent Hermione a pleading glance and she seemed to understand.
"BOYS." She yelled over their loud voices.
They both stopped mid-argument.
"Ginny is sick." She scolded, marching over to stand in front of Harry. By the look on her face she was just challenging him to try and contradict her. By the look on his face he wouldn't dare try. "Harry Potter, I am disappointed in you. You come over to keep Ginny company and now she's covered in dead poultry, you're screaming your lungs out, and pulling her around like a rag doll."
Harry's face colored rapidly and he mumbled an abashed apology. He turned and looked at me sheepishly. I nodded at him in reassurance. That is until I heard Aidan chuckle appreciatively. Then I got mad. Apparently, so did Hermione.
"And YOU." She spun around to face Aidan. "Should be doubly ashamed. She is your girlfriend. And after everything you've put her through I don't see why she puts up with you. But she does. So, please understand if you aren't my favorite person in the world at the moment." She paused and took a deep breath. "I suggest you get out of my house right now before I get aggravated." Aidan had a look on his face proving that he thought Hermione was already aggravated but he didn't seem to want to test her.
"Well, I do suppose it would be prudent for Ginny to go change and get some rest." Aidan said diplomatically.
"Too right." Harry scoffed. Hermione glared at him and he cowered.
"I think that might be best as well." I piped up. "I'd walk you out." I said to Aidan, before looking down. "But walking is a bit uncomfortable at the moment." I was trying really, really hard not to blush. It wasn't working.
"Yes, well, goodnight." Aidan hesitated a moment before rushing forward and giving me an awkward, sloppy kiss on the cheek. I presume he lingered a bit too long when Hermione snapped the towel she had been carrying at him. He hustled out of that room like a pair of skrewts were chasing him.
Once he was gone Hermione pushed me into the bathroom and shoved a pair of clean pajamas into my arms.
I stripped down and changed, but I wasn't ready to leave the room yet.
It had started raining sometime during the hectic evenings events and I took a moment to listen to the water droplets pounding against the rooftop. I smiled faintly. I had always liked the wintertime and rain more than summer and sun.
Sure, baking outside until your skin felt like it was going to melt off was nice but in my opinion there was nothing better than being huddled up under the covers with a good book while the storm gods raged wars outside.
I tried to ignore a dizzy spell as I pushed myself out of my sitting position and hobbled to the door. Whatever I had done was effective, I observed with satisfaction as the world stopped spinning.
I stumbled my way back into the living room where Hermione was quietly chastising Harry. There was a reason she was my best friend.
"Gin, I'm sorry." He apologized when he noticed I was back in the room.
"Quite all right." I waved it off. I must have waved a bit too energetically as I felt another dizzy spell hit me. I swore under my breath. Harry and Hermione watched me apprehensively.
I tried to tell them to mind their own business but I suddenly felt my protests die in my throat as I felt a stabbing pain somewhere on my person. I wasn't really sure where, I just knew that it hurt. A lot.
- - - - -
I spent exactly three and one half days in St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries before my healer deemed me a clean bill of health and sent me home. It was too long if you asked me. But apparently other people felt otherwise.
It turns out I had some sort of viral infection or another. It all boils down to the same thing. Antibiotics and a lack of physical exertion. I actually really didn't mind that last part.
But it also came with problems, because if I couldn't physically exert myself then that also meant I couldn't kick Harry's arse for being a stupid prat. Hermione claims I should be nice to him because he feels like he was part of the reason I wound up in the hospital but I could really care less. It's all a load of codswollop.
So, as I sat bundled in bed yet again I decided to do something productive. Something productive being the next stage in my thoroughly thought out plan. Yeah…
I had a large book of names and addresses spread out in front of me. I was searching for someone named Maggie. I didn't know Maggie's last name. I didn't know Maggie's place of residence. I simply knew that Maggie was a reporter and had attended, well, you know.
"Hello, Maggie?" I asked the head in the fire that I had floo called.
"Yes." The lady answered.
"Are you a reporter?"
"No."
"Alright, goodbye then."
And it had gone on like that multiple times over. Because in case you didn't already know, Maggie is not exactly an uncommon name.
There were, however a few bright spots.
"Maggie?" I asked the curiously dressed woman.
"Yes."
"Are you a reporter?"
"Yes."
"What type of reporter?"
And she had regaled me with what she wrote.
"You can actually do that?" I asked in shock.
"With practice." Maggie answered.
"Fascinating." I had mumbled.
"Yes, the human body is fascinating."
We talked for a bit longer and although it was interesting I had a feeling that, that particular Maggie wrote more colorful pieces than the one I was looking for.
Then there had been the wo- , actually I'm not really sure anymore. The person had referred to themselves as Maggie, but, call it an inkling, I had a feeling it wasn't their real name. Needless to say, they were also not the right Maggie.
But, never fear. For three hundred and twenty-one Maggie's later I reached the Maggie that had given Harry his interview. And she was more than willing to do a follow up.
We made the plans. Now all we had to do was pick a date.
"Hermione." I called happily. She came into the room.
"What?"
"I found Maggie." I said with pride.
"And she agreed?"
"Yes."
Hermione got an odd smile on her face.
"What?" I asked warily. Hermione took a seat at the end of my bed.
"How long, exactly, did it take you to find Maggie?" She asked.
"Well, since I got back from the hospital I suppose."
"Oh." She smiled like she was hiding some big secret. She probably was.
"What?" I shrieked in exasperation.
"I was just thinking it would have been easier to take her name off of the article she wrote for Harry."
I just stared at her with my mouth hanging open. I was probably catching flies.
"Well, you know, because it would have her full name – " Hermione began to explain.
"I know." I cut in. Stupid Hermione.