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Chapter 2 : To Every Guy who brings her flowers When She's Sick
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*Quick background on personally created character:*
Ammie Malfoy – twin to Lucius, and I know that’s hardly cannon, but we actually have it all schemed our in our minds. ^_^ Anyways- he and her brothers for the most part disowned her on the bases of being in Gryffindor of course.
Mandatory Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter, including the characters and settings do not belong to me, rather to the wonderful JK Rowling and her affiliates
~Sirius and Ammie~
I lay in my bed shifting from side to side, trying anything to get comfortable. It was no use, I reasoned, squeezing my eyes shut. Here I was achy, stuffy and congested, while outside the sun was shining and the birds were singing.
My friends were out having a grand old time, gallivanting about Hogsmeade, while I was here, stuck in Gryffindor tower, seventh year girls dormitory, third bed from the door, in absolute agony. One way or another, I had been the one to contract whatever bug that was going around. I didn’t even want to know how I, the healthy one, the one who always had fruit with every meal, the one who trained five out of the seven days of every week as the only back up for every possible position on the Quidditch team, me, the one who washed and sanitized everything, had gotten sick.
I sighed heavily, regretting it instantly as I was sent into another bout of coughing. Rolling over again I reached out to open my scarlet curtains, even moving that little bit hurt like I was being trampled on by a hippogriff. I did smile however when I saw that someone had left my window open for me. Probably, Amia, I guessed, she knew how claustrophobic I got when I was inside. The warm breeze did feel good, I had to admit, but I still wished I could have been out enjoying it with everyone else.
Resigning to my fate, I began poking around in the drawers of my nightstand, looking helplessly for my book. It was a muggle novel Lily had loaned me, or rather; she thought it was a muggle story. It was Macbeth, by William Shakespeare. Very few people knew that dear old Willy had been part of the wizarding community, unfortunately for him; he was born a squib to two magical parents, which is probably why no one knew. Not too many families liked to admit they had a squib in the bloodlines.
I read for what felt like hours as the clock on Amia’s bedside table ticked on. Looking up I realized it had only been five minutes. Five minutes of enduring Lady Macbeth’s new found conscious. It was great really, cold-blooded killer turned scared. Why couldn’t something like that happen to some one, anyone really, in my family? Ah yes, that’s right, because I am a spawn of one of the most noble and ancient wizarding families. Behold the black sheep of the Malfoy clan. The irony of course lay in the fact that as the proverbial black sheep, I was actually one of the good guys.
I let out another moan of agony as I rolled onto my stomach and threw the book at the door. Why me? Merlin, what had I done to cause this type of suffering? Wallowing in my own misery I failed to notice that the door, which I had just abused with the obscenely thick old-style version of Macbeth, had clicked open and there was now another person standing in the seventh year Gryffindor girls’ dorm room, someone who quite frankly didn’t belong in any female dormitory.
Sirius Black was standing, dressed in a pair of casual khaki pants and a steely blue short-sleeved shirt. If I had to be honest, I’d say I love that color on him, but I’m rarely that honest with him. His hands were conveniently hidden behind his back as he continued to observe me without my knowledge. Clearing his throat after a minute or two he startled me into awareness, which sent me, rather ungracefully really, jumping into the air and sprawling out onto my four -poster bed. Dressed only in a slightly long Harpies team t-shirt and knickers, I fumbled around for my blankets trying desperately to cover myself. I was in no condition or mood to entertain.
“Black!” I shrieked. My voice cracked on the “a” in a very undignified manner. But I didn’t care. I was tired, and achy, and my throat hurt too much to try and correct myself. Besides, what was he doing here? Leave it to my obnoxious prat of a boyfriend to be smiling at me as I sputtered around.
“I’m sorry Love,” he replied promptly wiping his trademark smirk from his face. But the damage was done; I had seen it.
“Don’t you sorry Love me!” I snapped, but lucky me, my attempt at being loud and intimidating backfired, resulting in another painful wave of coughing. That changed the look on his face. Faster then I thought possible, Sirius was kneeling on the floor with his face by mine. I swear he wanted to catch this horrible cold.
“Shhh Ammie, shhhh it’s alright Rose,” he soothed rubbing his large hand in small circles on my back. I could feel myself being eased into a half sitting half laying position and my pillows being quickly replaced with a certain Gryffindor beater. His arms were wrapped around me tightly, and I had to admit I was enjoying the feel of his shirt against my arms.
When my coughing finally tampered off I closed my eyes burying my face into his chest. I smiled when I realized just how soft his shirt was, it wasn’t silk, but it was softer then cotton. I made a mental note to inquire about the cloth at a later date. For now I was content just to be held in his arms. If I was being honest with myself I would have to admit I liked the feel of that shirt very much. As it is, I am rarely that honest with myself either.
Smile still on my face, I inhaled his scent as best I could through my runny, stuffy nose. Sirius Black always wore the same cologne day in and day out, the only one in all of Hogwarts who had it, and it was amazing. It smelled like the Forbidden Forest during a storm and the Quidditch pitch all at once, mixed with the perpetual mint smell he had from eating all those peppermints. It was completely Sirius and I knew I would never be able to get enough of it, even if I could only just smell it though my cold hazed head.
“Better?” He asked, tilting my chin up so he could look in my eyes. I nodded slowly. I was exhausted again and I knew it showed on my face. Sirius smiled at me.
“Go back to sleep Ammie,” he whispered gently brushing a few loose strands of hair from my face. It was all I could do to nod again, becoming heavier in his arms.
Just before I slipped off to sleep I saw them. Lying forgotten by the door were at least a dozen roses of all different colors. I smiled drowsily, here I was sick and he had brought me flowers. With a small happy sigh, my eyes fell shut and I was lost to a world of dreams, but happy didn’t quite cover it. No, I don’t know what words did, but happy wasn’t good enough.
After all, he had brought me flowers.
AN: Just so everyone knows I am currently in the processes of re-writing Pretending to be Perfect. And as always if you have any questions please don’t hesitate to e-mail me @ Silverblackstorm21@yahoo.com
Until next time- Thanks to my beta Nym, and please review!
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