What's Mine and Yours (BLINNY) || Discontinued ~

Chapter 16

Blaise's POV

I'm in love with Ginny.

This was the first thing I thought when I woke up the next morning.  My sheets were still damp from the night before, having been too lazy and drunk that I didn't want to shower.

I sat up and recalled last night's events.  A stupid smile smudged up my face.

I'm in love with Ginny. And she's not in love with Potter.

It took me a moment to realise that I was shivering cold and my head was throbbing.

"Blaise?" Draco's voice said. He was standing up, finishing getting dressed. His eyes watched me, tinged with worry. "Yo, where the hell were you yesterday?"

"I was..." I patted down my dirty uniform. I touched my lips where Ginny had kissed me, and began to smile again. "I was..."

Draco's voice flurried on about yesterday, how all the professors were panicked but trying not to show it to the kids, a scrambled mess in my head. All I could think about was kissing Ginny for those two seconds; all I could think about was Ginny.

"Hey... you okay, mate?" Draco reached over and touched my forehead. "Bloody Merlin, Blaise, you're burning up."

My veins felt like ice. My hands shook uncontrollably, "Draco."

"Bloody Merlin," He touched the rest of my face, before slapping the side of my head. "What the hell have you done to yourself?"

He ran out of the room and called for Pomfrey.

•••

Ginny's POV

I woke up to a throbbing ache in my head. My eyesight and hearing blurred, buzzing and fluttering noises filling all my five senses.

"Ginny!" The familiar sound of Hermione's voice caused me to stir. "Harry! Ron! She's awake!"

There was the thud of footsteps.

"Hey," Harry's voice surrounded me.  My eyes peeled open and there he was, Hermione and Ron at his sides. "You okay, Gin?"

No. My mouth tasted sour of vomit and alcohol, and my stomach weighed the world. 

"Yeah," I lied, my throat dry as sandpaper.  I stirred into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes. "Where... where are we?"

"Hospital Wing," Hermione answered.  Despite her careful tone, she looked relieved that I was talking.

I frowned at her answer, "What? Why?"

"Because you have a cold," Ron answered, looking dark about it. "I can't believe this, Ginny.  It's one thing to skip school—it's another thing to come back hungover and soaking wet! Not to mention with a cold!"

"Soaking wet?" I repeated, my frown deepening. "I was wet?"

"Like a dog," Ron grumbled, arms crossed. "It was disgusting. Don't forget barfing on the common room couch! Yeah, that was a blast."