Words - 1061

Rating - PG

Warnings - None

#19 – THUMBELINA

"Okay, okay," she whispers, tinny and barely discernable, gripping at your hair and earlobe. "I get it, I owe you. Now just get me to Madame Pomfrey already, okay?"

You give a kick to the cat at your feet (Granger's, the size if nothing else is telling) and it hisses, backing away with bared teeth. Obviously, it resents you for the lost meal. "I don't know, I-"

You're cut off by a sort of whimper and a, "Shh! You idiot, I'm shrunk down to practically nothing, don't talk so loud!"

"I actually almost prefer you like this," you whisper, and something sharp pierces your earlobe. You barely abort an instinctive slap at the sting, and swear under your breath. "Did you just bite me?"

In answer, something wet splatters at your neck, and she says, "You taste like evil and citrus soap."

The chuckle is held back, but she can doubtless still tell from your shoulder shaking if nothing else, and if she was where you could see her eyes, you're sure they'd be rolling.

You set off to the hospital wing at a leisurely pace, a pinky-sized Ginny Weasley clinging to your ear in a vice-grip that makes you wonder if this is what earrings feel like. It's amusing listening to her reactions, for all that she tries to act unaffected; she hisses in fear every time you walk too fast, and it actually stops being funny when her grip slips as you mount the stairs and she nearly falls to her death.

"Again, I could just hold you in my hands," you start and she cuts you off with a snort that tickles the side of your neck.

"Please, who knows where your fingers would go."

"I don't think I'd actually be able to tell," you muse. "After all, they're so tiny –" Another bite, on your neck this time. You'll have to get those looked at as long as you're in the hospital wing; this girl would probably infect you just for fun.

You are considering which of the many quips jostling around in your head you should next use, when a student rushing past bumps into you and sends you flying at the wall. You could catch yourself easily with your shoulder, but that's the side she's on, so you spin around in a tripping maneuver, bringing both hands up to cup protectively around Ginny at the same time. You end up smashing your head and other shoulder hard against the wall and falling half-over until you catch yourself on one knee, grunting in pain, but none of that matters and you're pulling your cupped hands in front of your face in a sort of juddering terror.

She's so utterly tiny and helpless like this – and her wand didn't shrink with her, so it's not like she can cast a shield around herself or something. You found her about to be eaten by a cat, screaming in a near-inaudible voice with her wand large and useless next to her, and she's been dependent on you since. You can't bear the thought but who knows what might've just happened, that utter imbecile running through the halls could have just murdered her and your fingers are trembling uncontrollably as they slowly uncurl from around her.

Ginny is flushed and breathing heavy, disheveled from the knocking about she just received, but still all in one piece, and she's struggling to stand when your relieved sigh knocks her down again. She's scowling when she looks up at you after that, and you're prepared to receive a thorough tongue-lashing for being careless with her safety… except it never quite comes. Instead she's just looking up at you with an expression you really can't interpret at all, except to be quite certain it's not anger.

It's also freezing in some way, or maybe that's just the remnants of fear-fueled adrenaline still coursing through your system, but you can't move while she's looking at you like that, and she's not stopping. Evidently, she's seeing something very significant in your face, because her eyes are intent on you and you have no idea what she might be thinking. She slowly hoists herself up again and walks down the slope of your palms towards your face, each step just barely creating enough pressure for you to feel it. Soon she's right in front of you, so close that she's got to brace herself against your lips and you can't quite see her past your nose – still with that unreadable expression on her face. You're not sure what she's intending to do, but an ache has struck up in your head and it thrums through your shoulder and that's got to be why your heart is thudding so hard in your chest and you can't bear to breathe (it would probably knock her over again anyway).

And she leans forward, movements oddly solemn, and presses her miniscule lips gently to the tip of your nose.

It's not a kiss – at least, it doesn't feel like one, not when you can barely feel anything she does, and anyway it can't just be a kiss all of a sudden. She just wouldn't do that. But nonetheless you find yourself swallowing thickly and blushing, the tip of your nose tingling under her touch and your lips twitching against her tiny fingers.

After that, she moves sideways, gripping onto your face in a series of places until she can shuffle back to your shoulder and grip a tuft of your hair in one hand, the bottom of your earlobe in the other, like before. You don't quite move as she does this, unwilling to upset her balance and feeling oddly shy. The top of her head is just visible in the corner of your vision for most of the journey, but once she's out of your sight completely, it's strangely easy to move and breathe again, as though a spell has just been broken. You stand slowly, wincing at the dull pain in your shoulder and pulsating headache already beginning in your temples. You really are going to need the aid of Madame Pomfrey too.

"Ready?" you ask as quietly as you can, more breath than words, and in return she grips on a little tighter, her fingers oddly warm and electric against your skin.

"Yes."