Percy Weasley's alarm gently chimed once, and Percy sat up, and properly rose from his bed. Percy then proceeded to pull his sheets up, before heading into the bathroom for a shower and change. Percy then collected the gifts he had stacked neatly on his bedside cabinet the night before, before leaving his dormitory.
He glanced around the common room; not noticing any of his siblings, he went over to push the portrait of the Fat Lady open.
A hand seized Percy's shoulder.
"You're not getting away that easily!" Fred – of course it was Fred – declared triumphantly.
Percy tried to swivel around, but failed miserably, because George grabbed Percy's other shoulder, and the two forced him out the portrait hole, singing Christmas Carols in terrible, off-key voices.
"Let me go!" Percy tried, to little avail, to wriggle out of their grasp.
"You know what we're thinking?" George asked Percy.
"No!" Fred and George chorused. "We're off to…where are we off to?"
"Not again." Percy groaned.
"Come on Percy, sing along."
"I don't even know the words – I don't want to know them."
"We be off to breakfast feast,
With our bro we love the least,
Just kiddin', Perce you're really grand,
Though ye usually be very bland."
Ron, Harry and Hermione, smiling broadly, joined Percy, Fred and George. Fred and George instantly sped up.
"Oh, we must hurry, and pick up the food with our opposable thumbs,
Before Ron gobbles it all up, and leaves the rest of us with nothing but crumbs."
The warning was well taken, and everyone hurried into the great hall.
It was emptier than usual, with a lot of students home for the Holidays. The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione took up a portion of the table, and breakfast appeared at areas unoccupied by the presents.
"I've heard that there are some surprises in the pastries – oh, honestly Ronald, have you never head that good things come to those who wait?"
"Erm, you're mistaken, Er-my-o-nee." Ron said through a mouthful of pastry goodness. "Good things come to those who take them and shove them in their mouths – ow!"
Ron bit down on something hard, and learned his lesson. Hermione chuckled, and Ron shot her a look which meant. 'Yeah, yeah, right as usual Miss Granger. Don't rub it in.'
Everyone pulled their morsels apart after that.
"Goodness, you two, don't you ever behave yourselves?" Percy asked, as Fred and George juggled their breakfast.
The twins merely continued what they were doing, unabashed.
"Well, I for one can no longer continue to remain here." Percy declared, rising from his seat.
"Where're you off to, Perce?" George asked, still juggling his breakfast.
"I'm going to find…oh, never mind, here she is."
Who she was was very apparent. Ginny had come through the doors of the great hall, weaving her way down the aisle.
"You're late." Ron declared to her as she approached.
Percy frowned as Ginny came closer; she didn't look quite herself, but of course, that was not surprising. With all the issues with the attacks, Ginny had not been able to settle in.
"Pershee." Ginny swayed and it looked to be a struggle for her to keep on her feet.
"Ginny!" Percy began, outraged. "You're drunk!"
"I am not drunk, Pershival Weashley. I do not appreshiate these falsh dishpershions on the integrity of my charashter."
Ginny sank into a chair next to Percy, and continued, to the dumbfounded looks of Percy and Ron.
"Sherioushly, I have not been hitting the egg-nog, Pershy. I waszh walking through thish shcool, when I shtumbled upon tray- trey-go – bleach-head boy and hish two loyal lackies."
Percy still glared at Ginny, but she didn't seem very affected.
"And he wash his usual charming shelf. And Lobshter – shorry, Crabbe, shtopped me, and then BB Boy was wanting to compare fashion tipsh with me - wish was okay, if a little strange. But then he shtarted inshulting…" Ginny's eyes flashed towards Hermione. "He called her the name Pershee. THE NAME."
Ron swore under his breath.
"My shentiments preshicely." Ginny agreed, and continued. "So I shaid. 'For your shakes, I hope you're feet are fashter than your brainsh. Shtand and fight, you cowardly cads!' In hindshight, deshpite the fact I wash able to turn them into a wonderful shmorgasboard of shuffering, perhapsh I should've dish armed them firsht."
Hermione, with the logical intelligence that she possessed in great riches, understood what was happening. "Finite Incanatatem." Hermione pointed her wand at Ginny.
"Thanks, Hermione. They manage to hit me with a weak slurring spell and a dizzying hex."
"How'd you get away?" Ron asked. "I don't see how you could've cast spells properly whilst speaking like you were."
Ginny did not have chance to explain, as a great shadow fell across her.
"Miss Weasley. Professor Snape -" Snape hung back, like a giant, malevolent bat. "Has told me that he found three of his students hanging from the rafters near the statue of Ugbert the Unworthy. I…" Professor McGonagall glared beadily at them all. "Was wondering if any of you had an idea of how they got up there."
"I put them there, Professor." Ron admitted before anyone else could say anything.
"Mister Weasley." Professor McGonagall said sharply. "Though I admire your loyalty, I cannot see how you were able to perform the charms required to do so with your damaged wand."
Ron looked down at his plate.
"Not to mention the fact that at the time of the incident, you were sitting in this hall under my gaze, Mr Weasley."
Ron slumped back in his chair. Ginny shot him an appreciative look.
"I did it, Professor." Ginny stood up. Professor Snape stepped forward. "Well, that will be 150 points from Gryffindor, a month's worth of detention and you will make a formal apology to Messrs Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle."
If anyone thought Ginny would be cowed by Snape's imposing shadow, they were wrong. "Try as you might, Professor, you're still not getting the House Cup back this year."
Snape's eye twitched, but otherwise, he looked quite impassive.
"As for apologising to the three stooges. " Harry managed to stifle his laugh just in time. "I am sorry that I didn't hex their entirely worthless bodies more times than I did. Does that count? When shall I see you for my detention, Professor?" Ginny smiled sweetly.
Professor McGonagall turned to Snape. "Perhaps you should check on the recovery of your students, Professor."
Snape snarled at Ginny, before sweeping around and striding out of the great hall.
"Say what you will about the man, he does know how to make an exit." Ginny said as she watched him go.
Professor McGonagall fixed her eye severely on Ginny, who now felt very small and insignificant.
"Why did you do it, Ginny?"
Ginny explained.
"I see. Well, Miss Weasley, I cannot and I will not attempt to reverse Professor Snape's punishment; although I understand why you did it, I cannot allow my students to have free reign in dealing with their problems in this manner. However, I do not see that Professor Snape's punishment fits the crime. I shall speak to him about it. Oh, Miss Granger" Professor McGonagall turned to Hermione. "Five points to Gryffindor for a perfect Finite spell. Ten points to Gryffindor for coming to the aid of a fellow student in distress."
Hermione smiled slightly, as Ginny gave her a pair of thumbs up.
"I must go and deal with Messrs Goyle, Malfoy and Crabbe. Have a lovely Christmas, all of you."
"Same to you, Professor." Fred said, and then turned to Ginny when McGonagall was out of earshot.
"So, tell us every single juicy detail." George leaned in too. "Tell us exactly what happened."
"Well…" Ginny began.
*Censored for the delicate ears of Narcissa Malfoy*
Fifteen minutes later…
"And *Censored for the easily offended sensibilities of Draco Malfoy* Then I…*Censored for the honour of the Noble House of Malfoy* and finally…"
"What I don't get is why you were there in the first place." Ron asked.
"Oh, I had something to do…" But Ginny did not elaborate, so Ron contented himself with eating some more.
That morning…
Ginny, with a look that would have scared the pants off nearly anyone on the planet, glared at the unimpressive black diary in her hands. However, since it was a diary, it was little affected by Ginny's glare. Ginny weaved through the halls with the diary (taking care to sink her nails as deep as she could into the leather) and hurled into a toilet.
Ginny just walked away as the book gurgled down the drain.
'Good riddance.' Ginny thought.