An Unexpected Funder

Ginny's Quidditch team doesn't have enough money. Will Draco help, despite his depression? Will she help him in return by being his friend? Or more? And what'll happen when Harry comes back?

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15. Fairy Tales

Ginny POV

 

He still hadn't moved. Not an inch.

I was sitting on the edge of my chair, expecting him to wake up and look at me like I had been nuts to believe he was in a coma.

I've been sitting here of and on for about a week, I took over a lot of the other girls' time, because I wanted to be there for him if he wakes up. When he wakes up.

He will. I'm sure of it. He'll pull through, he survived the war, so he couldn't die like this. It's just impossible. He can't die, because I haven't apologised yet.

The guilt of that is eating away at me and getting worse every second I look at him. I really shouldn't have kissed Harry the night I went on a date with Draco. I should've broken up with him first, even though we weren't really a couple.

He deserves better than the way I treated him.

Looking at him lying there, all vulnerable and soft, made me think about how he used to be at school. He looks so much younger asleep, the little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth barely visible and without his usual cocky smirk. I tore my eyes away from his mouth and looked out the window.

In 2 hours Gwenda'll start the meeting in which we'll all brainstorm for a new funder. Not that we'll find one, at least I hope we won't. Then I'll never meet him again after he wakes up.

So he has to wake up before the meeting, he just has to. Otherwise everything that happened between us will evolve in a far-away memory, nothing more, nothing less. Not that I mind that very much, it's just that he doesn't have anyone else but me and his house-elf.

I looked at him again, his hair looked incredibly soft and blonde against the white pillowcase. Like it had all week.

"Draco, you don't know what you're missing. Did you know that the Prophet has a new lay-out? Everyone is talking about it. And of course about the weather, but what else is new?"

Yes I know it sounds crazy, but I talked to him. Even though he's in a coma. I started talking to him after the first 5 hours. By then I was so lonely, tired and flat out awful, because he didn't move or anything and because he was hurt.

"Why did you ever fly into a tree? It doesn't sound like something the great Ferret, King of Slytherin would do. You'd probably rather die than take that blow to your ego." I chuckled lightly, but soon got serious again. "Please wake up!"

I leaned forward in my seat next to his bed and softly brushed his hair from his forehead. His skin felt incredibly soft and I decided to just leave my hand at his cheek. And flashbacks crossed my mind to the alley, and to the way his hands had felt against my skin. I sighed loudly, moving his hair back even more.

Would his lips still feel the same? Would his kiss still make me go all tingly inside, make my knees feel like jelly? Or did my unconscious finally gather it's senses and agreed with me that I love Harry more than anyone?

Harry.

He didn't like it that I'd gone to see Draco for almost a week straight. I probably would've done the same if he'd done that, but still. I can't help myself to go see him. To see for myself that he isn't dead or awake. That, and to show him that he does have a friend, it's just something friends do for each other. Even though we've just become friends a couple of weeks ago, still, he is my friend and Harry can't tell me not to visit a friend. If he thinks he can, he doesn't know me at all.

I looked at my watch, only half an hour to go until the meeting. I should go now.

I glanced at Draco's hand and picked it up in mine, intertwining our fingers. Why couldn't he just wake up, that would be so much easier.

I softly squeezed his hand and looked at his incredibly pale face.

Unconsciously I moved forward and again reached out with my other hand to softly stroked up and down his left cheek, stopping after a couple of seconds to rest it on his jaw. His skin felt even softer than I remembered.

And again I couldn't help but think back to our kisses. Maybe I should just one last time… No, that would never help. But, there's no one to see, so why not take a chance? It only happened in fairytales, but maybe… Maybe there was a chance that he…

I quickly looked at the door and slowly bent over his bed even more, so I could be closer to him. "Draco, please wake up." I whispered, only an inch away from his face. His gorgeous, handsome, sleeping face.

Why didn't I go for him when I still could? Now it's too late.

And then, forgetting that it would never work, praying to whatever deity there is that fairytales were true about this, I softly kissed him. Just a chaste kiss, nothing special, but hopefully enough to make him come back to me.

Then… nothing happened and after a couple of seconds I pulled away, disappointed I tried to hold back my tears.

Tough Quidditch players like me don't cry, let alone cry about a boy.

Letting my face hover above his, I whispered to him that he had to come back to me. Then I slowly kissed him again, a goodbye kiss, the last kiss we'd ever share. In an hour he won't be our funder anymore, so we probably would never meet again.

Kissing his passive form a bit more passionately this time, I moved the hand that cupped his cheek to tangle it up in his hair, remembering how he used to kiss back, mentally screaming at him to wake up this instant.

And then, just as I tried to pull away, the impossible happened and his arms came around me, keeping me cradled against him. I jumped in surprise and opened my eyes to see his silver ones looking into mine, both unable to look away, we kept staring at each other for what seemed like hours, before reality hit me and an enormous grin spread over my face, almost splitting it in two.

He smiled right back at me, a little less enthusiastic, but it was a grin, which I'd never seen on him before.

At a loss of words I just kept staring at him, grinning like a fool, then it hit me again that he was alive and awake and then I kissed him again, even more forcefully this time. He answered my kiss with as much fever as mine and we stayed like that, both too caught up in the moment to think about anything else than each other.

When I finally pulled away, and when he finally let me, I coughed softly and asked him, my voice a bit hoarse from all the emotions, if he needed anything.

He'd been lying there for a week after all, he would probably be thirsty or something. He answered, very softly, with his voice breaking about three times, that he was a bit hungry and thirsty.

So I tried to stand up, but his hand wouldn't let go of mine, while his eyes silently begged me not to leave him, so I just pushed the emergency button to call the Mediwitch that checked him ever couple of hours.

 

We patiently waited, me sitting in a chair next to his bed, him lying back, looking incredibly tired and hurt. I held his hand, stroking my thumb softly over the back of his hand to soothe the pain he was obviously in. And he just stared at me, apparently not believing that I was there, that I kissed him again, that he was alive.

When the Mediwith finally came, I didn't look up, but kept looking him in the eye, while he did the same.

I hadn't thought about Harry since the first kiss, and wouldn't think about him in a long, long time.

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