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Chapter Ten

For the most part, Potions was uneventful. There were various amounts of swearing that rang out around the classroom when someone screwed up, and then the inevitable docking of points, courtesy of Snape. My potion was actually done about five minutes before class was over, so I put it up in Snape's stores. It took a month for the potion to age properly, so Snape kept it under lock and key in his private stores to prevent any theft. After all, Veritaserum was definitely not a potion that should be all over Hogwarts. I was probably one of the only students that he actually allowed to brew it.

When everyone else was filing out of the room hurriedly, I put up my things much more slowly. I was startled out of my slight reverie when someone dropped something heavy on my desk. I twitched, the only visible sign that it had freaked me out, and continued to load up my books before glancing upwards to find out who it was. Logan Vaisey was sneering down at me. I met his gaze with an empty one of my own.

"Hurry up, Gryffindor," he snapped. "I don't have all day." My gaze was withering as I stood up, shouldering my bag. He was a good foot or so taller than me, but he still took a step back, the sneer falling off his face.

"I need to speak to Professor Snape," I said coldly. He picked up his sneer quickly.

"Going to beg him to spare you a few knuts?" he jeered. I glared at him.

"Shut the fuck up, Vaisey, and get the hell out of my face," I said bitingly, causing him to redden in anger.

"I'm not going anywhere, Weasley. Your new boyfriend cornered me before breakfast this morning and oh-so-kindly asked me to keep any eye out for you. By the way, Weasley, do you mind if I join your little ménage-à-trois? You may be a Gryffindor, but I wouldn't mind having your little mouth sucking me off—and I wouldn't mind finger-fucking Parkinson until she came while Nott fucked her in the ass."

I couldn't honestly say what spell was in my mind when those vulgar words were falling out of his mouth, but all I could think of was just how fucking rude he was to two of the people that had saved me. It was a furious rage that was filling me, shooting through my blood like fire and commanding me to jump him, right then and there, and throttle him until he didn't have a breath left in his body.

Luckily for him, though, I had been gripping my wand, and it had gone off with either an unspoken spell that had spun through my mind or just from the violent thoughts that were stuffed into my head. Either way, he was whirling away from me, screaming and clutching at his face, until miraculously, his voice was cut off. I glared at him, filled only with hatred and a pure sense of satisfaction, watching him tumble into a table. I caught sight of his face, and grinned in self congratulations.

Dark laces tied his eyes and mouth shut in a gruesome mockery of stitching. Blood was dripping out of the holes, and it looked beyond painful. The Laces Curse was one of the darkest, and often employed by Voldemort's Death Eaters when torturing muggles. I glanced around to make sure Snape hadn't seen me, and found him innocently writing on a paper at a desk. It was impossible that he hadn't seen me perform the curse on Vaisey; it was unthinkable that he was just going to ignore it. But he was doing just that, ignoring the muffled noises emitted from Vaisey as he stumbled into things.

I grabbed his arm and pushed him towards the door, which he realized was the right way out and tumbled into the light, kicking the door shut accidentally behind him. Now it was just me and the Potions Master—I swallowed. Snape couldn't be too intimidating, could he?

Pansy was already waiting outside of Ginny's potion class when the class ended. She had resolved to call her Ginny from now on, and not Weasley anymore—if Theodore felt that he could do it, then so could she. It surely was different to be thinking about her by something other than her surname, though.

Pansy was beginning to get just the slightest bit worried by the time that the rest of the students had vanished up the halls to go to their next classes—with no sign of Vaisey or Ginny. She swore violently in her head; if that boy hurt her in any way, as Blaise and Draco seemed to think he was going to do, he wouldn't even know the beginning of what it meant to be cursed.

As if she had summoned him by her murderous thoughts, the boy in question came stumbling out of the room, narrowly missing her before he ran headlong into a wall. He groaned in pain, and Pansy wondered briefly just what the hell was wrong with him, before she caught sight of his face. At first, she was taken aback, not sure if she had seen his face properly or not, but then she realized that she had. Someone had cursed him with the Laces Curse, and that someone must have obviously been Ginny.

A strange sense of pride welled up in Pansy at this knowledge, before she halted the feeling before it got too large. I'm proud because a Gryffindor cursed a Slytherin? Things must be getting messed up in my head.

She watched him moan and groan for a few more minutes before she decided that he had suffered enough, and preformed the counter-curse. After all, she did need to be able to interrogate him on whether or not it had been Ginny that had cursed him. It could have been a completely other Slytherin, for all she knew. The major part of her was yelling that a Gryffindor, much less a Weasley, wouldn't even have had knowledge of such a curse, but the smaller part of her was reminding her that Ginny had known A Taste of Hell was, so knowing a curse like that should have been normal.

But it was still beyond strange to think of a Weasley knowing about dark curses.

"Parkinson!" Vaisey spat at her when he was able to see once again. She was brought back to the present, and that present was a bloody looking Vaisey. He was futilely trying to get the blood off his face, but all he succeeded in doing was smear it down his robes, making his shirt bloody and his robes darker.

"Having a little trouble there, Vaisey?" she asked condescendingly. He only snarled.

"Your bloody Gryffindor cursed me!" he snapped, his voice still managing to sound like a petulant whine. She examined her nails, leaning against the wall and hoping that he hadn't managed to curse her first.

"And why would she do that?"

"Because I tried to escort her to her next class, like your boyfriend requested!" Pansy scoffed at him. It was common knowledge in Slytherin house that Theodore and her weren't going out—much to her secret chagrin.

"Whatever relationship that Theodore and I have is none of your concern," she said dismissively. "On the other hand, however, you were given explicit instructions to escort Weasley to her next class. Care to tell me why you left her, without escorting her to her next class?" He looked at her as if she was a clueless Hufflepuff.

"She cursed me!" he repeated loudly. "What was I supposed to do, just take it and then lead her to her next class?"

"Yes," Pansy snapped at him. "Because you didn't do as you were paid to do, plus blackmailed into doing, you suffered the consequences. Just because you were hit with the Laces doesn't mean that you were supposed to high tail it out of their like the fucking coward you are. We told you to do something, and you should have done it. Weasley had all the right in the world to curse you." He stared at her incredulously, probably wondering why she would dare take the side of a Gryffindor over a Slytherin's.

"No wonder she got so fucking upset when I mentioned that you were probably fucking," he hissed at her, his eyes venomous. "I was right, apparently—"

He didn't get any further, because he cried out in agony as Pansy whispered the Laces Curse again, she watched with a cruel smirk as his eyes were sewed shut again. Once he was unable to see her or make another sound, she cast a quick Obliviate on the bastard so he wouldn't remember who had cursed him. He'd know vaguely that it was one of them—Ginny, Pansy, Theodore, Draco, or Blaise—but he wouldn't be able to point any fingers at them. After all, a Head Boy, two prefects, and two model students would never curse another student.

Pansy glanced at the Potions door again, before using her wand to direct the groaning and moaning mess of a boy called Vaisey up the hall and out of her sight and hearing, before collapsing on the wall across the hall from the door. Time to wait, it seemed.

The door had only slammed shut a few moments before when Snape decided to speak.

"I was told that you were given a detention because you engaged in a fight, correct?" came his smooth voice. I walked up to his desk, stopping in front of it and standing there.

"Yes."

"Care to shed some light on it?" He flicked his gaze upwards to catch mine, pointedly saying that I had better tell him, before he turned back to the parchment he was scrawling on and continuing writing.

"Colin Creevey was hit with his own Jelly-Legs Jinx, courtesy of my Protego that I cast on myself when I found that he wasn't going to cast the Avis charm on me," I explained shortly. I noticed, with no small amount of shock, a small smile ghost across his face, before it disappeared just as quickly.

"So you were given the detention for participating," he summed up.

"If you could call it that," I said dryly.

"And knowing that you could receive detention for such an act, you once again engaged in a fight just now with Mr. Vaisey." I gripped my wand tightly, wishing I had done more damage to the dirty bastard.

"I don't believe a fight is the proper term, Professor Snape," I said, the wish for violence in my voice not going unnoticed by him. He put down his quill and looked up at me, waiting for me to finish. "A fight could be defined as a thing between two people, with equal vehemence on both sides—I'm afraid that Mr. Vaisey did not engage me with his wand at all, so it could hardly be called a fight." This time, the smirk that twisted his lips was all too real.

"Be that as it may, Miss Weasley, I cannot allow you to continue to engage in fights with any more students—or not engage, as you may have it. Another three detentions will be added on to your other one, due to the severity of the curse you used on Mr. Vaisey." I nodded. I didn't really mind having detentions with Snape; as he had already proven, he was actually quite okay with me cursing people, but he couldn't say that, due to his job. I doubted that he would actually make the detentions hard.

"Yes sir," I said respectfully.

"Your first detention will be served tomorrow night at seven, and will run for the duration of two hours. I will continue to see you at that time for the rest of the week." I nodded, turning around and heading up the aisle towards the door.

"Miss Weasley," he called to me. I turned around, much more willing to hear what he would say to me in parting than what Aberforth had told me.

"Very good job with the Laces Curse—not many can pull that off without using their voice." The smirk that was on his face was much too unbelievable for my brain to comprehend, and all I managed was a weak smile in thanks, before I slipped out the room. I found Parkinson waiting for me, and I quickly fell into step with her. She was silent, waiting for me to explain why I was talking to Snape. I took my time collecting my thoughts.

"Snape complimented me on cursing Vaisey," I said, my thoughts running a mile a minute. She let out a snort of laughter, and I glanced at her in surprise. So this was normal?

"He'll do that from time to time when one of his students manage a particularly hard curse, and get away with it," she explained.

"Well, I didn't really get away with it; he gave me three additional detentions." She nodded. I guessed that she had already heard from Malfoy and Zabini.

"He couldn't really just let you get away with it; what do you think it'd do to his reputation?" We both shared a laugh at this.

"Too true," I commented, thinking just how much of a pushover Snape'd seem if he was known to pardon Ginny Weasley for cursing one of his students.

"What exactly did Vaisey say to make you curse him?" she questioned in a detached voice. I instantly scowled.

"Just wanted to join our apparent little fuck party we had going on." I watched the look of rage pass over her face, before she patted me on the back.

"Then you were good to curse him. I took it off him for a short few minutes, though; I needed to properly chastise him for leaving you. He didn't need to know that Draco and Blaise have actually already deigned that having him escort you around to your classes is a properly horrid idea, so we'll be alternating who picks you up and who doesn't. Speaking of which, we need a copy of your schedule."

"I don't need you all to take me to each of my classes!" I protested. "Honestly, I can get there perfectly fine, and you know I can take care of myself." She shook her head, her face grim.

"Don't even bother. When they get into this kind of mood…it's best to just do what they want you to do." I slumped, resigned, before digging in my bag for an extra copy of my schedule. She pocketed it after giving it a cursory glance, and then we subsided into silence once again. We were nearing the entrance of the school, because I needed to go out to the greenhouses for Herbology.

"Do you…do you want to talk about what happened in your last passing period?" Her voice was tentative, and I surmised that anything emotional was pretty hard to talk about in front of a Weasley. I myself flushed and looked at the ground; I didn't really want to have a heart-to-heart with Parkinson just yet. That would just be too fast for my comfort.

"Not particularly," I muttered. I saw her stiffly nod on the periphery, before thankfully, I heard voices and realized that we were there.

"Good. Well, we're here, so I'm going. I…well, if you do want to talk about it, I'll just see you tonight." I nodded at her, eyeing the amassed crowd before me with trepidation. She seemed about as eager as I was to drop the subject. I wasn't going to talk about it any time soon, that was for sure.

"Thanks, Parkinson," I told her quietly, out of earshot of the group of students. She nodded.

"You're welcome. And…well, no need to surnames if you're going to be living with me. Call me Pansy." I glanced up sharply. This was definitely not a normal occurrence. To my knowledge, only the Slytherin's closest friends called her by her first name. This was definitely an honor.

"Ginny, then," I said, and we shared a brief moment of understanding, before she turned around and walked back up to the castle. I turned back to the students, watching them start to file in, before sighing inaudibly and joining them. I sat at my usual table, staring warily at the thorny red vine that was curling around in a shallow bucket, before someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned, and found Luna Lovegood standing there.

"Good morning, Ginny," she said in her usual spacey-sounding voice.

"Hi, Luna," I told her, only slightly edgy. I hadn't talked to her in ages, of course, but Luna had never really been against me or with me, so to speak. She was just kind of…there.

"Mind if I work with you?" she asked, already sitting down and giving me to room to argue. I shrugged helplessly.

"Go ahead." She smiled at me slowly, before leaning forward and plucking an invisible something out of my hair. At my curious glance, she explained.

"Wrackspurt." I nodded sagely; she believed in a variety of creatures that I myself was slightly doubtful about, but I couldn't really outright deny their existence. Especially the Wrackspurt, who Luna claimed was invisible. She shook her hand lightly, as if disorienting the tiny Wrackspurt that she was clutching, before tossing it over her shoulder. I had ceased many years ago wondering about her strange beliefs; they were just a part of Luna, and I didn't want to doubt her with she being one of my only friends.

"Class, we will be milking the Venomous Tentaculas today. You and your partner should be able to have a small quantity by the end of class. Be sure to use your gloves, and be extremely careful; the thorns are poisonous." I was already pulling on my gloves, and I watched Luna do the same.

"What are we supposed to milk on it?" a Gryffindor boy asked. He was shot numerous glances from many of the Ravenclaws due to his hopeless lack of brains, and he squirmed in his seat. Professor Sprout took pity on him, though.

"You squeeze the thorns. You will be milking their poison today. Used correctly, it is also a powerful restorative, said to bring back the memories of the dead." This was an interesting property, and I remembered reading it somewhere once. I was going to harvest a bit more than normal, so I could take my own little stash.

"You can use my vial, Ginny," Luna offered dreamily, holding out a small glass vial. I took the bottle, looking at her curiously.

"What for?"

"I know you want to get some for yourself, so go ahead," she replied calmly, reaching for the spare bucket. "You harvest your bit first, and then you can help me with the stuff we need to turn in." I looked at her in a new light; apparently she was much more perceptive than I had originally given her credit for.

"Thanks, Luna." I quickly did what she told, making sure no one caught me as I slipped the vial into my pocket. The plant was squirming much more violently now, and I knew it was going to be harder to do.

"I heard that you and Harry had a falling out," she said quietly in her dreamy voice. I tightened my grip on the plant before loosening it again; no need to go killing it.

"Yes," I answered shortly while she squeezed the thorns, squirting violently green poison into the bucket.

"That's good to hear." I had to catch myself; had I heard her right?

"Come again?"

"Harry hasn't been the same since he killed Voldemort." Luna had also never had a problem with saying Voldemort's name—that made a small handful out of the entire Wizarding world that was willing to, even though he was dead.

"That's true," I commented dryly.

"I'm happy that you're not with him any more. You were being suffocated." I had to snort at this accurate image. I was pretty sure that Potter had tried to suffocate me on a few occasions, before he had realized that my family wouldn't forgive him—although my brother Ron didn't seem to have a problem with it.

"Thanks, Luna."

"And if you ever get tired of spending the night in Slytherin house, I've got plenty of room in my bunk in Ravenclaw. All you need to do is answer a question to get in, and I'm positive that you'll be able to." I shot her a grateful smile, not even wondering how she had gotten that information. Knowing just how perceptive she was, it was pretty easy to assume that she had simply either overheard it or seen it.

"Thank you, Luna," I said, and we fell into an easy silence. I was rather happy to find that my only allies right now weren't just Slytherins. I could also count on Luna. That made a small few that I actually could count on, but it was still quite a bit more than it had been a few nights ago.

The rest of the class went quickly, our partnership effective enough to allow that we finished harvesting before anyone else, and had time to idly chat before the class was over. She was very easy to talk to, I found, mainly because she didn't speak where it wasn't need to. I also returned the favor and heard a story or two about The Quibbler and her father, and was very happy to actually renew the friendship with her. It was a nice feeling. She waved at me and went with the rest of the students when class was over, and I only had to wait a few more moments before I walked out as well.

It wasn't Nott or Parkinson—Pansy, I corrected myself—waiting for me. It was Malfoy.

Lunch with Malfoy. Oh, joy.

A/N: Zomg. 140 reviews. ((passes out)) I thank absque amor especially; she/he reviewed on every chapter up to date, instead of just the latest one. Thank you so much!

Notes-Wrackspurt is real. In Luna's point of view, though. And the Venomous Tentacula, although its poison property is all made up by me.

Fun fact: About three paragraphs in here were typed with only my right hand because I was eating a mango popsicle.

So, yeah, I'm definitely going to have 150 reviews for Christmas, so I love all of you so much!! Thank you!

I have posted a new story, too, at the request of a few of you reviewers. It is feeling an obvious lack of many reviews, so do go add the few reviews company, please. It's a DGB as well called Seven Deadly Sins--and if you're complaining about the lack of DGB in this story so far, that one definitely won't have a lack. It's about the darkest desires and wants that people can experience, and it starts off hard and fast. I love writing it. You should love reading it.

'Nother Note: My name has been changed from "Bloody Rapture" to "Sinful Rapture." I just liked it better.

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Merry Christmas to everyone!! And various other holiday exclamations to those that don't celebrate Christmas. Hope you get loads of loot!

-Rapture