Fire and Ice

Healing Progidies

"Oh," Draco said, a hint of suprise on his face.

A fire began in his crotch, there were a thousand dragons clawing it with their vicious claws and sharp teeth. He could not even see straight.

Searching valiantly with his eyes for that red-headed bitch, he exhaled, shuddering.

His eyes rolled back as his knees fell to the floor, grunting. Breathing heavily with his eyes closed, his hands clutched his genitals as he growled "Weasley, I swear to fucking Mer-"

"I don't want to hear it, Malfoy." she said shortly, unwilling to show any remorse. However, she was a Griffindoor and being violent wasn't one of their traits. Crouching low, she whispered in his ear, "I know it was a bit out of order, so I'm sorry. But you did desreve it." With that last note, stood and searched the slightly-dusty classroom one more time, ignoring the motionless figure on the floor.

After letting out a scream of furstration when she couldn't find her wand, she stormed out. Almost as if she'd forgotten something, she returned and stood by the door. She stared at Malfoy. Her feet wouldn't allow her to leave. Biting her lips, she knelt down next to him again and waved her hands in front of his body, concentrating with all of her might.

***

Wait... did she just apologise?!

Opening his eyes the tiniest amount, Draco peeked under his lashes to see her generously-sized thighs lift from the ground and turn away, giving him a clear view of her perfectly-round buns. Who the Hell would apologise for kneeing a guy in the Knuts?! But then again, ever since... That Night... the baby weasel had done nothing but suprise him.

He had thought he'd felt real pain when dueling with Death Eaters, having his stomach slashed open, shaking hands with the Dark Lord. But damn, this girl had some strength in those legs.

No, Draco! He scolded himself. Malfoys a) never admit their pain and b) NEVER compliment Weasleys. As the aching in his mid-drift continued, Draco shuddered again and surrendered to the pain. Closing his eyes, he embraced the blackness, barely noticing a flame of red kneel down beside him, blue sparks emmiting from it's fingertips.

***

Groaning, Draco lifted his head and turned. His jaw dropped. For the second time in two days, he had woken up next to a passed-out Ginny Weasley. Furiously opening his trousers, he sighed with relief to find no evidence that he had sex... with her... again. Suddenly, he frowned, thinking.

What the Hell am I doing here anyway? I came back to get my wand... saw Weasley... called her a blood-traitor... ohhh.

Wait. His groin was in perfect condition. He prodded, loking for any bruising or aches. None.

Wait. What were those blue sparks he saw? Just before passing out he remembered a red flame suspiciously the exact shade of Weasley's curls.

Wait. Isn't she some healing progidy? The day before, when he has cuts all over his hands, she'd healed him.

Wait. She'd had a wand though. How could she have healed him?

He stared down at her body. She looked so exhausted. Her dark circles under her eyes deepened and her her chest barely moved as she breathed. She was in a deep slumber.

Draco nearly yelled when he caught sight of her hands.

Blisters coated the palms of her hands, blurring the lines he was told were so important in Divination. The scarlet colour of the tips of her fingers sizzled into blue, then purple, then red again, like miniture fireworks. Then it dawned upon him. Flitwick's voice eched thorugh his head as he recalled sitting in a Charms lesson.

"Unspoken charms are ideal when one has no wand to call, but they are incredibly dangerous! Within a single wand," he paused, and dramatically flourised his own. A shower of confetti blanketed Padma Patil, who expertly swung her own wand to Vanish it. Flitwick smiled appraisingly at her before continuing. "there is a power beyond our touch, beyond our skin. Inside this very stick is fire so hot, ice so sharp that it could scald your hands beyond recognition! With Unspoken charms- or Unspoken spells altogether- your hands are your wands. That searing energy rushing thoguh your wand will rush thorugh you. Only in severe circumstances must you ever use an Unspoken charm. But of course, you all will always have your wands with you!" he cried joyously. "You'd never need to cast one anyway!"

"Shit." he murmured softly, careful not to wake her (though she was so deeply asleep the effort was pointless). Gently taking her palms innto his hands, he stroked them gently. He stood abruptly.

Two minutes later, Draco retured in the exact same spot he was in two minutes prior, only now carrying a short, stubby want and a First-Year over his shoulder, passed out of course.

The wand was unfamiliar in his hands, but he had no choice. It was true, she had inflicted the pain onto him which she then removed at her own expense, but truth be told he was asking for it.

Muttering cooling incantations, he watched as her sores and blisters healed before his eyes.

It took almost an hour of Cooling to fully heal her palsm, but Draco was unwilling to use an actual Healing charm on her. Healing took a great amount of effort and concentration, and the thought of passing out again did not amuse him.

Satisfied with his works, Draco stood and slund the First Year over his shoulder. He'd drop him off in a classroom or something. He didn't turn back as he left the room.