The Advice of Blaise Zabini by Citrus587

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 7
Published: 20/04/2008
Last Updated: 08/06/2008
Status: In Progress

To this day, Draco Malfoy still cannot pinpoint the day when his best friend became a genius.
Blaise Zabini, however, is most definitely a genius. After all, he gave Draco the best advice of
his life.




1. Follow Her
-------------



To this day, Draco Malfoy still cannot pinpoint the day when his best friend became a genius.
Blaise Zabini, however, is most definitely a genius. After all, he gave Draco the best advice of
his life.

---

*“When she walks away from you mad… follow her.”*

“Healer Weasley, come on, wait up a second!” Draco yelled, running after his student.

“What do you want, Healer Malfoy?” Ginny asked, seething, never turning around.

“You could turn around and face me, for one, Ginny,” he stated plainly. He immediately regretted
asking her to turn, as now he could not ignore her tear streaked face.

“Look, you can't expect to be called in -“

There is a faint line between getting angry and being in a blinding rage, and Ginny knew that
she was flirting with it. She simply could not wrap her mind around that fact that now, instead of
spending her birthday with people she actually liked, she was stuck here at the hospital
charting.

“Called in on every case, you mean?” Ginny interrupted, “You called me on my first day off in
weeks to work explicitly on this case! You told me you wanted me on this case! Now, you're
telling me to chart while Harold takes over my spot!”

“You can't have it your way all the time. Other people need the practice!” he told her
exasperatedly.

“You called me in, Healer Malfoy, on my first day off in weeks, on my twenty-fifth birthday, no
less, to tell me that I'm hogging the practice time of the other students?”

Draco opened his mouth as if to say something, only to close it and furrow his eyebrows.

“Your twenty-fifth birthday?” he asked softly.

“Yes, my twenty-fifth birthday, not that anyone else cared to notice. Funny, when I was
picturing my birthday celebration, it didn't involved doing your charts. Obviously, I was
wrong. Just let me go get this over with so I can go home and shower, Healer Malfoy,” Ginny
finished, struggling to hold on, to not break down.

Ginny turned on the heel of her favorite electric blue sneakers and strode down the hall, never
looking back. She didn't know if she was delirious from lack of sleep, but she could have sworn
that her boss, Draco Malfoy, looked apologetic. *Of course*, she thought, *he did have a lot
to be apologetic about.*

**

What seemed like only five minutes later, the door of the room Ginny was in flew open. She
looked up to see a harried Draco.

“Do you have any bloody idea how many rooms are in this hospital? Did you have to choose the
very last one I look in to chart?”

She chose not to respond to his question. She remembered all to well what she had said to him
earlier, and while she believed every word of it, he had every reason to kick her of the program if
he so desired.

“Let's go, Ginny,” he said, holding his hand out.

She looked at his outstretched hand, and then into his eyes, eyebrows raise in skepticism, never
attempting to move.

Draco knew she was tenacious when working on a case, but had no idea that she held such grudges
in her private life too.

“You can walk on your own two feet like a big girl or I'll drag you kicking and screaming
behind me,” he threatened.

She closed the folder and hopped off the bed. She looked at him expectantly and he stared back
at her.

“Well,” she said, breaking her silence, “where are we going?”

**

He had had no idea that it was her birthday today or he never would have called her in. In the
few weeks that they had been working together, she had rapidly ingratiated herself as his favorite
student. She was quick, decisive, and intelligent, all of the makings of a perfect Healer. He just
thought that she might like the exposure to this case.

Unfortunately, he hadn't counted on Harold, another student, starting his rotation today,
and since Harold was there first, he got the case. He figured that since he'd already called
her in, she might as well make herself useful.

When he found out it was her birthday, his stomach bottomed out. Just because he had spent his
last three birthdays in this hospital without any birthday cake did not mean that anyone else had
to.

**

“Just follow me,” he said, turning back from the direction he had just come from.

She followed him around corners, down staircases, and through doors that she never knew the
hospital had. She eventually found herself in the basement. As they rounded one last corner, she
saw a small table with a plate in the middle. There were two buckets turned upside down and he
pulled hers out for her to sit on. He took his seat after she took hers.

“Look, Ginny, I had no idea it was your birthday today. If I had, I would have never called you
in,” he started, raking his hands through his hair and looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“It doesn't matter,” she replied apathetically.

“Apparently, it does,” he snapped. Before she could retort, he continued, “I didn't bring
you down here to bicker,” he said. He lifted off the plastic coverlet over the plate.

“You brought me down here for a sandwich?” she asked.

“No, I brought you down here for a piece of birthday cake. It's special birthday cake.
Bread, peanut butter, and banana flavoring,” he corrected as if it was the most obvious thing in
the world.

“You mean a peanut butter and banana sandwich?”

“Call it what you will,” he muttered, pulling a candle out of his lab coat. He lit the candle
and started to sing.

**

Ginny couldn't believe what she was watching. She knew that the Draco Malfoy who was the
Healer-in-Charge on her floor of St. Mungo's was not the same snaky Draco Malfoy who haunted
her Hogwarts days, but this was too much. Draco Malfoy was singing happy birthday to her. After one
very hard pinch, she realized that he really was indeed singing to her. *If only she could get
proof*, she thought, *since no one would believe her*.

“Aren't you going to make a wish?” he asked, snapping her out of her reverie.

She looked at him, then down at her cake. She flashed a smile at Draco before blowing out the
candle.

“What did you wish for?” he asked almost immediately.

“I can't tell you. I'd have to kill you,” she replied casually, as she doled out the
cake and took a bite.

**

Draco just smiled at her as she took a bite of her cake. He watched as she licked the peanut
butter that stuck itself on her lips. He listened as she hummed a little when she tasted the first
bite.

Blaise Zabini was definitely a genius.

-->



2. Back Yourself Up
-------------------



*“When she looks at you with doubt… back yourself up.”*

“Go on a date with me,” he said so suddenly she almost missed it.

“Healer Malfoy,” she started.

“I'm not your teacher any longer, Ginny. Call me Draco.”

She paused for a moment, digesting the request.

“Draco, I'm not so sure that's such a good idea,” she replied uncertainly.

“Why not?” he questioned, moving closer.

“Do you want me to name all the reasons, or just the top ten?” she countered, increasing the
space between them by taking a step back.

“I require a good reason, Ginny,” he answered skeptically. He crossed his arms and leaned
against the wall, looking at her as though he had already won.

“That still leaves at least a hundred other reasons why we can't date,” she told him, using
her hands for a bigger effect.

“None of those reasons matter!”

Ginny didn't think that it was rocket science. After all the time she was his student, he
had proved himself as a smart guy. Even a person with mediocre intelligence would know that a
Malfoy and a Weasley are not compatible.

“Draco, you can't ignore reality,” she said, moving to up her coat.

He hadn't anticipated on her being so difficult to convince. Normally, he didn't have
this much trouble securing a date. She didn't even consider his proposition for a second.

“Ginny, let's place a bet on it,” he told her confidently.

“A bet? Are you serious?” she questioned, turning to face him.

“Yes, a bet. If I can guess the number in your head, then you have to go on a date with me,” he
explained.

After weighing the consequences for a minute, Ginny informed him that she had a number.

“Five hundred and seventeen,” he said immediately.

Ginny's jaw dropped, and he knew that he had gotten it correct.

“How did you know?” she asked, shocked.

He simply flashed a smile at her.

“I'll meet you at eight o'clock tonight, Ginny, at the Beau Rivage in Muggle London. Do
you know where that is, or should I pick you up?”

In truth, Ginny had no idea where it was, but she didn't want him to know that. She told him
that she knew exactly where it was and would be there at eight.

**

It wasn't until Ginny was back at her flat that she realized she had no idea what sort of
dress attire was required at this restaurant. Ginny stared at her closet for close to an hour,
hoping that her mind would subconsciously lead her to the perfect outfit. When that wasn't
working, she went to plan B.

“Hermione?” Ginny asked through the Floo.

“Ginny, is that you?”

Ginny could hear the voice, but couldn't see its owner. After a few more seconds,
Hermione's head popped into sight.

“Hermione! Have you heard of the Beau Rivage?”

Hermione thought for a moment, then her face illuminated as she thought of the answer.

“Oh, I have heard of that place! It's very dressy! Why do you need to know Ginny?” Hermione
asked, but her fireplace was already empty.

**

It took Ginny nearly another hour to get ready after talking to Hermione. After she finished up
all the final touches, she walked to Muggle London and caught a taxi to Beau Rivage.

After paying the driver, she took a deep breath in, smiled at the doorman, and walked into the
huge lobby of the high rise building. After speaking with the receptionist, she learned that she
needed to take the lift to the top floor of the building.

Now, Ginny was standing outside the lift, looking at herself in the mirrored doors.

“Waiting for an invitation?” a silky voice questioned from behind her.

She jumped at the intrusion of her space.

“I don't require an invitation,” she said stubbornly.

“Then why have I watched you standing outside the lifts for the last five minutes, never moving
to touch the button?” Draco asked cockily.

She bit her lower lip, then punched the button with far more force than necessary. She walked
into the lift, him following in her wake. Finally, she spoke, never looking at him.

“I don't like the idea of going in lifts alone. If I'm going to get stuck in a lift,
I'd much rather be stuck with someone else. I was just waiting for someone else,” she
explained.

“Ah, I see,” he acknowledged. “I'm glad that you'd like to be stuck in a broken lift
with me, Ginny,” he told her cheekily. “By the way, you look stunning,” he added before she could
retort to his earlier comment.

She looked up at him, searching his eyes for any malicious intent.

“Thank you,” she told him, deeming his intent benign. “You don't look so bad yourself,” she
added with a smile.

He smiled down at her as he took her arm and led her out of the lift.

**

“So, *Draco*, I'm curious as to why you asked for this little dinner date,” Ginny asked
between bites of her filet.

Draco nearly choked on his water, unprepared for this question. Up to this point, they'd
been talking about the weather and the latest news of the up-and-coming Quidditch star. Now, she
wanted to know about his intentions.

He took a few moments to regain his composure before he countered, “Why not?”

Inwardly, he cringed at his response. It was not one of his most eloquent statements.

She merely raised her eyebrows at him, clearly unimpressed by his answer. After waiting a few
beats, she decided on a new question.

“Why St. Mungo's? How did the infamous Draco Malfoy wind up as a lowly Healer at St.
Mungo's?” she asked.

Draco wished he had answered the other question. He couldn't go back now, however.

“I had always had a knack for healing. I became a medic in the war. After the war, I was out of
a job and went back to school to become a Healer. The rest, my dear, is history,” he finished with
a wink.

“That's it? Eight years of your life consolidated into two sentences?” she questioned
skeptically.

“I'm not sure what you're asking, Ginny,” he replied as lightly as he could, given the
line of questioning.

“You somehow wound up on the light side, healing Order members. Yet, at Hogwarts, you seemed to
be on track to stand next to your father and Voldemort. A bit of a one-eighty, and, if you ask me,
a one-eighty can't be explained in two sentences, *Draco,”* she drawled, emphasizing his
name.

They were both startled out of their staring contest when their waiter appeared next them.

“Would either of you care for dessert?”

**

Their desserts arrived, neither mentioning their previous conversation. Neither person had
forgotten about it either, however.

Ginny closed her eyes and moaned in throat as she tasted the first bite of her Dutch Apple
Streusel Cheesecake. When she opened her eyes, she was startled to see her date staring amusedly at
her.

“Would you like some?” she asked, motioning with her fork, attempting to end the
awkwardness.

Draco nodded and she handed him her fork. He looked at her hand uncertainly.

“You're old enough to feed yourself, I presume,” she told him cheekily.

“Of course,” he answered, recovering. He took a bite and was suddenly extremely jealous that he
hadn't made the same dessert choice she had.

“Amazing, right?” she prompted, moving to take her fork back. He moved it out of her reach every
time she made a move for it, eventually returning with another bite of the delectable
cheesecake.

“It really is amazing,” he said, fire alight in his eyes, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Two can play at this game,” she threatened teasingly, stealing his fork and a piece of his
traditional cheesecake. They continued to fight over their desserts long after both pieces were
gone.

**

Draco had offered to walk her home after dinner. She was grateful for the company, since taxis
were not very common on this side of town.

They talked about trivial things on the way back to her flat, occasionally bumping hands before
she moved away from him again.

She thanked him when they had finally arrived at her door. Just as she was about to walk in, She
heard him begin to speak.

**

“It was an obsession,” he told her solemnly.

Ginny turned around at his sudden statement. She searched his eyes for a hidden meaning as she
waited for him to elaborate.

“What was an obsession?” she asked quietly.

“Saving people. No one can truly understand the enormity of power until they hold the life of
another in their hands. After the war, I went back to society life, but I never fit in there. It
wasn't who I was. I enrolled in medical school the next semester. It's what I'm meant
to do, saving people,” he finished, mumbling the last few words.

He wasn't sure what he had hoped to gain from his confession, but before he could think
about it, the words were already out. The fact that she hadn't responded left him silently
cursing himself.

“Thanks for a great night, Ginny,” he said finally, before turning to leave.

**

Her head was still reeling from Draco Malfoy's confession. She was surprised to hear him
speak so bluntly. Her mind barely registered that he had wished her good night and was walking down
her steps.

Involuntarily, she moved down the steps and reached out her arm to grab his arm. She spun him
around and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek.

He looked at her curiously when she pulled back.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” she told him by way of explanation.

“Your welcome,” he responded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

-->



3. Give Her Your Attention
--------------------------



*“When she ignores you… give her your attention.”*

After a trip to America, Ginny had found her guilty pleasure. To most, her guilty pleasure would
be considered way worse than merely reading gossip rags or dipping into her chocolate stash
routinely. Ginny's guiltiest pleasure was country music.

“Man, I feel like a woman,” she sang off-key, while picking up another picture frame and jumping
around her apartment.

The music was so loud Ginny never heard the knock at the door. Nor did she hear anything when
the door clicked open.

**

He really did not want to be *that* guy. *That guy* was the needy one that women
always laughed about with their friends. Draco Malfoy had prided himself on never being talked
about like that. However, after one date with a redhead, he was a convert.

She had been working nights at the hospital, whereas he had been working days. They hadn't
crossed paths except for the occasional greeting as they passed each other in opposite
directions.

It confused him greatly that she hadn't called him yet. He had had a great time on their
date, and he assumed she had too.

He had to know what went wrong. Before he knew what he was doing, his feet took off, leaving his
logic behind, trying to catch up.

**

Ginny could have sworn she heard someone say her name. It freaked her out so much, she almost
dropped the picture she was wrapping in newspaper. *Get a grip on yourself,* she chided.

“You're leaving?” she heard a voice ask.

She spun around on her heel and let out a squeak of surprise.

“Draco,” she exhaled, relieved.

“You thought it would be…?” he trailed off with a smirk on his face.

“No one, no one. What brings you here, inside my house, without knocking?” she asked
levelly.

“*Au contraire, mon amour*, I knocked. No one answered. I heard the music inside, found the
door open, and decided to let myself in,” he answered obviously.

“Oh,” was all she could muster.

“So, you're leaving?” he asked again.

“Moving up,” she answered, motioning him to hand her the picture next to him. “I don't have
to live like I'm impoverished anymore, now that I actually receive a paycheck as a Resident
Healer.”

“They make spells for packing, you know. All you need is magic and a swish of the wand and
you're done,” he informed her, dodging the pillow she threw at his head.

“Of course I know that, you dolt. I prefer to pack the Muggle way. It forces you to get address
the junk that you never ever use,” she said, tossing out an old newspaper.

“Ah,” he said, as if he completely understood.

**

While he was glad to hear that she wasn't leaving for some remote place like the South Pole,
he hadn't yet asked her his question, the entire reason in which he came to her apartment.

Luckily, Ginny pushed him in front of the moving train, forcing him to own up.

“Draco, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” she asked, laughing as she watched him snap
out of his thoughts.

“Oh, right. Well, I just wanted to know, I was just wondering if,” he stammered. Even he was
laughing at himself.

“Yes?” she prompted.

With every second that passed, he felt more and more uncomfortable. *It's like a
band-aid,* he told himself, *it'll hurt like hell, so rip it off fast.*

“Didn't you have a good time on our date a few weeks ago?” he blurted.

Ginny bit her lower lip, suppressing a grin.

“Yes, I had a good time on our date,” she agreed.

“Then why haven't you said anything to me since then?” he asked, confusion in his eyes.

“I didn't want to seem desperate, which you apparently have no problem with,” she
jested.

And there it was. It had happened. He was *that guy*.

**

Ginny hadn't meant to offend him. She definitely hadn't meant to hurt him. However, as
she watched a flash of hurt cross his eyes, disappearing with a blink, she realized she had done
just that.

“Fiddlesticks,” she muttered under her breath, so quietly Draco had to strain his ears to
hear.

“What was that?” he questioned, amused.

“Fiddlesticks,” she answered. “I didn't mean to offend you. I was just joking,” she informed
him apologetically. “You aren't really *that guy,”* she added guiltily.

“Of course I'm not,” he said, exuding confidence he didn't have. “It's water under
the bridge,” he told her, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Is that so?” she asked.

“It is. You'll just have to make it up to me,” he told her.

“I think I can do that,” she told him. “How about you help me finish packing, then I'll
order a pizza.”

“I hope you don't think that that will qualify as your making it up to me,” he said.

“Of course not,” she muttered sarcastically.

**

“What is this?” Draco asked, eying the piece of pizza on his plate suspiciously.

“What do you mean? That's the best slice of pizza in all of London,” she informed him,
aghast. “Don't tell me that you haven't had pizza before,” she added.

“All right, I won't tell you,” he said as he picked up his fork, stabbing his slice with
it.

“I can assure you it's dead,” she told him, smiling. “Look, you eat it with your hands.”

She picked up her own slice of pizza, folded it in half, and took a bite much larger then what
he figured she could rightly fit in her mouth.

He continued to eye the pizza, as if it might attack him.

“I thought you said that you could feed yourself,” she stated, eyebrows raised in a mocking
dare.

Without bothering to ask, he picked up his slice, folded it just as she had, and took a bite.
Then he felt something warm and somewhat slimy moving down his trouser leg. He jumped off, wiping
frantically at his leg, trying to get off whatever insect was climbing on him.

**

Ginny was laughing so hard, she couldn't even get out the words to tell him that he had just
dribbled sauce on his trousers, and that he was not, in fact, being attacked by any insects.

“What is so funny?” he asked, still jumping around sporadically.

“You just got sauce on your trousers,” she pointed the spot out, “Nothing's crawling on your
legs.”

“Right, I knew that,” he said half-heartedly. He furrowed his eyebrows and said as an
afterthought, “These were my favorite trousers.”

She picked up her wand and muttered a cleaning spell before he even had thought of it.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” he told her.

“No problem, Draco. Want to try again with the pizza?” she asked.

“I suppose so,” he answered unenthused.

“Here, we'll put a napkin on your lap, to prevent any further damage,” she said, patting the
napkin into place.

She practically jumped away from him when she heard a moan deep in her throat.

“Merlin, Draco! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to,” she said quickly, clearly flustered, color
rising to her cheeks.

“Don't be,” he told her. He kept his eyes closed, however, and concentrated on regulating
his body for a moment before picking up the slice of pizza again.

They watched the rest of the quidditch game on Ginny's tiny Wiz-vision, a recently developed
wizard equivalent of Muggle television, with no more incidents. Draco was glad, as he didn't
think he'd be able to take another one.

-->



4. Don't Say a Word
-------------------



*“When you see her start crying, just hold her and don't say a word.”*

Ginny ran up to the main desk of the ninth floor of St. Mungo's. On the ninth floor, one
finds an array of patients who just don't fit on the other floors.

“Arthur Weasley. Where is he?” Ginny asked between pants, barely slowing down to question the
secretary.

“Room 922, but -” the secretary answered. Ginny heard nothing past the room number as she took a
left past the desk.

Ginny barged into the room, only to find no Arthur Weasley. Ginny turned around to find the
correct location of her father when she smacked into her mother. Ginny feared the worst with one
look at her mum's face.

“Mum, what happened?” Ginny asked, taking her petite mother into her arms just as Molly's
legs gave out. Ginny lead her to a nearby chair and retrieved some tissues, giving her mum time to
come to grips with the situation.

After nearly a whole box of tissues, Molly's sobs began to subside.

“Your father -” she choked out slowly. “We were cleaning up around the house. I heard a thud.”
Mrs. Weasley stopped here, trying to suppress another bout of sobbing. “I ran upstairs and he was
on the floor.”

Unable to stop the bubbling sobs, Mrs. Weasley once again began to cry, her shoulders moving
with every heavy breath she tried to take. Ginny pulled her mum to her and Mrs. Weasley sobbed into
her youngest child's robes.

**

After almost an hour of crying, Mrs. Weasley fell into a fitful sleep. Ginny used this time,
along with her Healer badge, to talk with the Healers on her father's case. After that, she
Flooed her brothers, taking time between each call to hide the tears streaming down her cheeks.

**

Her brothers had arrived one-by-one, dropping everything. When they had all arrived, Ginny
explained to the five worried faces staring at her what the situation was.

“He had a myocardial infarction,” Ginny explained with a calmness that did not belie her true
feelings. “Basically, heart muscle dies. In Dad's case, he had a blockage in his heart. Mum got
him here quick, though. That's good. He's undergoing treatment right now,” Ginny
finished.

No one had any questions. They were still too shell-shocked. Two days ago, they had all been at
The Burrow for Charlie's birthday. Arthur Weasley had seemed no different that Sunday than he
had any other day.

They filed into Mr. Weasley's still unoccupied room to comfort their mother. Ginny stayed
outside the room, leaning against the wall for support.

“There was nothing you could have done,” Ginny heard one of her brothers tell her mum.

She tilted her head against the window and closed her eyes to keep the tears in.

“It's not your fault,” another said.

It felt like Ginny's legs couldn't hold up her body any longer. She slid down the wall
and buried her hands in her hair when her butt hit the floor. How could this happen?

**

When her mum asked for some tea, Ginny was the first to volunteer to get it. Her father had yet
to come down from his procedure and Ginny needed to move.

On her way to the cafeteria, she kept her eyes down, not daring to look at anyone. She turned a
corner and ran into a very sturdy obstacle, throwing her down onto her butt. She looked up to find
Draco Malfoy looking down at her, concern etched in his features.

He offered his hand. She took it, grateful for his help as he pulled her up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, searching her eyes for the answer.

She opened her mouth to answer, and then shut it and closed her eyes, breathing evenly through
her nose.

When she opened her eyes again, she couldn't hold back the tears. He pulled her into his
arms and they stood still, independent of the movement around them. He let her sob into his chest
until she had no more tears left.

**

“Everything went fine,” Healer Washbern said, looking at Mrs. Weasley. “Your husband is on his
way down to the room as we speak. He'll be drowsy for some time, and I ask that you don't
excite him.” This time, he looked at the Weasley children behind their mother.

The Healer left the room as the orderly pushed Mr. Weasley's bed into the room. As soon as
the orderly left the room, Mrs. Weasley ran to her husband's bedside, throwing her arms over
him as she began to sob again.

Ginny smiled slightly at her mum's obvious adoration of her husband, hoping that one day, if
she was lucky, she would find someone to share even just half of the love her parents had. After
one more glance, she left the room in order to find Healer Washbern.

She didn't have to go far. He was waiting just outside the door.

“I figured you would have some questions for me, Ginny,” Healer Washbern said knowingly.

Ginny nodded in response, and Healer Washbern continued.

“When your mother Apparated here with you father, he was unconscious, but breathing. It must
have been a tough Apparation for her. From what she told us, he was unconscious when she found him,
and she came straight here. Probably no more than five minutes from his collapse to his arrival at
the hospital, whereupon he came straight upstairs. He was in V-Tach. We took him to the cardiac
unit, administered a blockage cleanser. We found there was approximately seventy percent blockage.
There were no complications with the procedure. He'll stay in the ICU for a few days. At home,
as I'm sure you know, we'll put him on a strict regimen to make sure this doesn't
happen again.”

“Thank you, Healer Washbern,” Ginny said, shaking his outstretched hand.

“No need, Ginny,” he answered. “Now, go see your father.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, striding into the room.

All the eyes in the room seemed to turn to her. Her brothers moved, allowing her to analyze her
father closely. He was paler than usual and he looked tired.

“Daddy,” she whispered as she moved to give him a hug.

**

Ginny had taken off from work for the week to share shifts with her mum. Mrs. Weasley didn't
want her father to be alone in the hospital, so there was constantly someone sitting by his
bedside. On the third day of her father's hospitalization, Draco knocked at the door. Ginny
glanced at her father, who was peacefully sleeping. Ginny quietly slipped out the door.

“How is he?” Draco asked, gesturing to Mr. Weasley.

“He's been better,” Ginny answered.

“How are you?” he asked, cupping her face in his hand. She leaned into his touch and closed her
eyes.

“I've been better,” she answered.

“When is your mother getting here?”

“Midnight,” she said, opening her eyes again to look at him.

“We're getting dinner. You look like you haven't eaten or slept in days, Ginny,” he told
her, looking worried.

She heard something in her father's room. She looked at Draco and he nodded as she pushed
open the door to re-enter her father's room.

**

At twelve fifteen, Ginny bade her mum good night and closed her father's door behind her.
She saw Draco off to the left. As she walked toward him, he held out her coat.

“I got it from your locker,” he confessed. “It's too cold outside to go without one.”

She was too tired to protest at his invasion of privacy, no matter how innocent the
intentions.

They walked outside the lobby doors of St. Mungo's.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“My flat,” he told her. “Hold on tight.”

He pulled her close as he Apparated them both. She snuggled into his warmth when she felt the
familiar tug.

**

“It's your favorite!” he told her.

“I thought you'd never look at another slice of pizza again after you last experience,” she
told him, a shadow of a smile on her face.

“What can I say? You have good taste in food,” he told.

“Thank you,” she said, “for the compliment and the pizza.”

“You're welcome,” he told her, cutting a bite size piece of his slice.

“What in the world are you doing?” she asked incredulously.

“Eating my pizza, Ginny,” he said innocently.

“That is not eating your pizza. That is mutilating it,” she told him.

“Adaptation is sign of a genius. If eating pizza with my hands doesn't work, why would I do
it again?” he questioned.

Ginny shook her head and smiled, taking another bite.

**

Ginny ate nearly half the pizza before finally passing out, slumped on the couch. Draco picked
her up and carried her to his bed, pulling the covers up to her neck. He kissed her forehead before
turning to go sleep on the couch.

He faintly heard her say something as he left. He turned to see her half-lidded eyes looking up
at him.

“Stay, please,” she pleaded quietly.

He didn't say a word. He just crawled into bed next to her and held as she snuggled into his
arms and fell back asleep.

He stared at the sleeping form in his arms. He finally fell asleep, hoping that this wasn't
the last time that she was the last thing he saw before he shut his eyes.

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