Ginny and Sirius
Giving the man a few moments to wake up more fully and get his bearings, Ginny took a more critical look at him.
Someone had done quite a number on him. And yet, despite their potentially best efforts, he was alive.
And, possibly checking her out. The longer he looked at her without saying anything, the harder it was for her to stop a blush from fully colouring her face and neck. He was rather easy on the eyes, and seemed fascinating to boot, leading Ginny to wonder what, exactly, might be the harm in doing a little flirting back? She didn't think she was imagining it, or mistaking the context behind his words. She'd grown up with five older brothers, some of whom believed themselves to be slick when it came to chatting up the ladies. (She'd never tell them otherwise, but she was convinced that Bill and the twins were better at flirting than Percy and Ron ever could be, and Charlie showed no interest in any of that nonsense.)
"That, my friend, is a very good question... d'you have a preference?" Ginny responded, before gesturing at the chair next to his bed. "Not for nothing, but I can't think it would do you any good to be devoured like a meat pie, no matter how much you consent. Do you mind I sit?"