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Author's Note: This is just a mini sneak preview. Its 2 am... I'll have more soon.
"Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot."
"The Adventures of Huckleberry Fin", Mark Twain
That Sick Bastard
It was always the same cursed bathroom.
Why? Why did every unfortunate chance encounter she ever had happen here?
Aside from the fact that it was inhabited by one of the castle's most annoying ghosts, the third floor girl's bathroom had nothing special about it. Five stalls lined on either side of its walls, it had the typical marble sinks of all the Hogwarts bathrooms, lined with the same, somewhat tarnished, mirrors, decorated taps and soap dispensers. The floor was always flooded. The walls were dank and old.
There was nothing about its unassuming presence to ever suggest that it was cursed- in more ways than one.
Sitting contemplatively over the unconscious body of Draco Malfoy, Ginny wondered, darkly, if it was the lingering darkness of Salazar Slytherin from the chamber directly below her.
(Or, more directly, below her Malfoyish cushion, she corrected mentally, a sinister smile touching her lips.)
Yes, that theory was certainly possible. Particularly since the only other explanation would be to attribute some pretty extraordinry powers of seduction to Myrtle, for luring such an assortment of pubescent boys over the years to meander into the watery stalls of the bathroom. And that was pretty unlikely.
Just off the top of her head Ginny could remember at least half a dozen boys who had invaded the lavatory's woefully unwarded walls. There was Harry, and Ron- both of whom seemed to have developed quite a fetish for the place, as it happened... Then there was Tom, Professor Lockhart, Malfoy- Ginny have his limp body a vicious nudge. Stupid Malfoy, she thought, momentarily forgetting her list and shaking her head in disgust, his mania with the bathroom is almost developing to Harry's proportions.
Sniffing, Ginny decided that it was sad how the two nemeses always ended up plagued with the same obsessions.
So much for the two houses being on opposing ends of the spectrum. Nothing like testosterone, apparently, for some inter-house commonality.
Rolling her eyes, Ginny got back to her list. She ticked off Dean, whom, with a short grin, she remembered bringing here herself on a particularly steamy escapade. And she knew that Professor Snape had been here at least a couple of times with Professor Sinistra, if Myrtle's spontaneous tunes of "Sevey and Sinny sitting in a tree…" were anything to judge by. Weighing the issue of Professor Sinistra's gender, she thought the flaky mustache made her man enough, too. That made eight people!
What the hell was with this lavatory and so many boys? Wasn't there a boy's one nearby?
Even Salazar Slytherin had been caught up by the lure. Why else had he built the pride of his legacy, underneath the stone floors of a girl's bathroom?
The question had baffled her ever since she had regained her sanity, during the summer of her second year, when she had first realized just how ridiculous the whole charade of the chamber of secrets was, Tom Riddle, you tossing pervert, she had thought. For how else could he have possibly unearthed the secret location, if not during a fit of voyeuristic passion? And then she had thought: EW,as the implications about Salazar had come up.
For some reason, she had always imagined Slytherin to have been gay. Not because he was evil and she homophobic, of course. But it had just kind of always been an assumption floating in the back of her head. That Gryffindor loved Rowana, and Slytherin was just jealous because secretly he wanted to be more than just "BFF" with the burly Gryff. But Gryffindor, being brave, chivalrous and somewhat daft to the subtitles of life (rather like Harry, actually) had not really clued in to his dark friend's emotional turmoil, leaving him to seek a companion in the dark arts for his heartbroken woes…
But as the question of the girl's bathroom and Plague of the Pervs had come up again, Ginny had found all her previously held fantasies about the Hogwarts founders crash beyond reparo, only to have her old suspicions about all men being nothing but zombies controlled by highly intelligent sperm, reaffirmed.
Stupid Slytherin,she thought with contempt. Why wasn't just being evil good enough? You had to be a dirty pedophile on top of everything. Grimacing in disgust at her own speculations, Ginny suddenly understood the allegory of the basilisk. A snake under the girls… ugh. Ginny shifted in her seat on the curve of the blond's back. That sick bastard.
Speaking of sick bastards, Ginny turned her attention back to the beaten down 6th year on the ground. With the combination ass kicking and Bat-Boogey Hex, he had gone down fairly easily. She could not quite suppress her feeling of pride, and had the strangest urge to buy a camera and start a scrapbook of her own heroisms.
Girls Lavatory! You shall be plagued by these hoodlums no more! a mental Ginny proclaimed, standing on top of the one working toilet, hair flying like a torch of victory.
There was a groan from underneath her, and she was immediately snapped out of her revere. In her head, the glowing Ginny on the toilet pedestal tripped and fell over. Reacting by instinct, Ginny attempted to fix the problem by whacking a hand across the tuft of albino hair.
"Shut up, Malfoy, or I'll change my mind about being done with you."
Draco Malfoy, self-proclaimed god of all things Sexy made an inhuman sound in response. Ginny taking it as a combination growl and yelp, frowned.
There was a silent moment where no one moved- Draco re-associating himself with his numb limbs while Ginny waited for what came next-r then, struggling against the firm weight on the small of his back, and his twisted arms in her grip, Draco lifted his head from the soggy ground and spat out toilet water.
Ginny barked an evil laugh.
She discovered that, strangely, she felt very little remorse for his difficulties breathing, and made her grip on him tighter.
"Fuck- Weasley? Is that you? By god if you don't get off my back right now-"
Ginny ground her weight onto his back a little more, blissfully unaware of the absolute wantonness of this action, and leaned forward until she was partially rested on his twisted arms. "You'll what, Malfoy? Your wand is in the toilet, your arms bound up, and your face is still pasty and disfigured- what are you going to do?"
Twisting his neck around until it looked painful, Draco shot the vile woman a deathly glare.
"Weasley get off me right now, or I swear you will live to regret it."
"Yeah, Malfoy? What will you do, sneak up on me in the bathroom, try to stun me, and then get hexed off your arse and knocked out onto the floor- again?" Ginny gave another scoffing, villainous laugh. "I don't think you are in any position to be giving threats here."
"Take your filthy, freckly hands off of me, Weasley!" Malfoy's strangled cry insisted. When Ginny, brow lifted at the audacity, said nothing immediately back, he took heart and continued: "And if you take this bind away and give me my wand, I promise I will only make your life miserable until you graduate."
Feeling a sneer automatically twist her mouth, Ginny once more released one of her hands from their clutch, to smack him, harder this time. There was a slapping sound as his cheek hit the water.
"You're not calling the shots here, Malfarret. And this is exactly what you get, you dirty little prat, for frequenting the girl's lavatory" she unconsciously leaned forwards, pressing her breasts flat against shoulder blades again. "And more importantly, I don't bloody have freckles on my hands!"
Lungs stressed beyond belief, Draco blew his breath out against the water, spraying Ginny in the face. She shot back up so fast that she felt her butt rock on the middle of his back. Draco had no breath left to groan.
"Stupid prat!" Ginny went on, "just for that, I'm not going to unbind you at all, so you will just have to stay here until someone else comes in and decides to take pity."
"Weasley… don't you dare!" She could tell he was trying to sound as threatening as was possible with pooling sewage threatening to enter his mouth. When she didn't answer, the Slytherin's efforts to break through his binds became earnest. Sensing that her victory was attained, Ginny eased herself slowly off him. She watched carefully to make sure that the half-body bind hex was still satisfactorily in place, then stepping around him she peaked into one of the stalls. To her relief she found the wand she had expelliarmused dangling on the seat but not quite fallen into the toilet water. Feeling a triumphant grin stretch across her face, Ginny thanked whatever gods had decided that Myrtle should not be diving into the toilets today, and picked up the wand delicately.
Brimming with confidence, she threw the wand up and caught it from the air.
Re-emerging from the stall with the seven inch stick twirling in her fingers, it did not take too long before Draco realized what she had acquired. Eyes on her fiddling fingers, his face went beet red and Ginny's heart squealed with an avenged joy.
"Weasley! Oh, fucking hell- give me that! Give me-"
Ginny, imperious look intact, merely stepped on his rigid thigh, and headed for the door-
"AH! YOU, BITCH!-"
There was squeak as she opened the door.
"HEY!- Weasley? WEASLEY!"
But Ginny was already out the door, and jogging away with her ego flying high, a sense of justice crowning her head, and the urgency that befitted any careful sibling of the Weasley twins ushering her steps towards the blissful sanctuary of the Gryffindor common-room.
COMING UP: Draco plots from the heart. Ginny theorizes. And Harry realizes something deep about himself.
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