A/N: Some SR-GAP action. Yay! Ginny's birthday continued. The Ball/Disco majiggerthingy. And yes, that is a word. I GOT SO MANY REVIEWS! THANK YOU! –dance dance dance- Quite a funny chapter.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Though I wish it was.
The Letter P
Chapter Twelve: P is for Party-Pooper
Riddle was silent. When he did speak, his voice was so surprisingly quiet than Ginny nearly missed it. "If you must know," he said, his voice low and barely audible, "I actually came to ensure you didn't have another spontaneous seizure in front of everyone, due to the fact that Madam Royce is stopping alcohol poisoning in the ball upstairs, and you would only be treated by a group of infantile and naïve twelve-year-olds."
Ginny knew in an instant that she would have much preferred to hear a lie, an insult, a quip, anything – than have him confess to her that he was real and human and had a heart and cared for her. Because that would make murdering him so much harder.
"I'll manage," replied Ginny shortly, locking her icy stare onto his in a challenge of dominance. Shockingly, he retreated almost immediately, and walked away without a glance backwards.
…
His words stayed with her during the whole party. Even when she shook that to the back of her head, the words were still there, echoing and ringing in her mind.
Despite this, Ginny managed to enjoy it. The only bad part was how surreal it was to see her brave, confident great-uncle terrified of her, and only half her size. She licked crumbs of chocolate cake from her fingers, rocking from side to side with the music that was still playing on.
The piece of heavy, slow music was drawing to a close, and shy, reluctant juniors were drawing away from their first slow-dance, hiding their blushes behind monster-masks. Eleanor stood on the stage, and called, "Alright! That's a wrap! I hope that you enjoyed the party. We may have another one at Christmas if you thought it was good! And congratulations to: Henry Oliverwill, for winning the costume contest, and Annabeth Campbell, for winning the fashion parade!" She started to clap, and soon the room filled with applause.
Slowly, but steadily, the students began to pour out of the Great Hall, and, in their place, in the doorway, was a fabulous-looking Grace. Nodding at her to acknowledge that the brunette had been seen, Ginny quickly finished up – cleaned the room, levitated the tables back in, and sent The Ugly Basilisks to the Headmaster for payment.
"Hey, Grace," said Ginny, smiling as she escorted the Wizarding fifties' band to the door of the Great Hall. "Wow. You look amazing."
And she did. The klutzy Slytherin had cleaned up nicely. She wore shimmering floaty blue robes that were tight across her chest, and then swirled loosely around her ankles, revealing flashes of dainty silver-slippered feet. Her make-up was applied beautifully, and her hair was behaving itself, in a simple bun at the back of her head, though much of her wavy fringe had fallen out. Her eyes sparkled with glee and it was obvious that she'd had a fantastic time.
"Thanks," said Grace modestly, going red. "You coming up to the ball? There's still two hours left."
"Yeah, why not. I don't have a dress, though. Screw it. If my attire isn't good enough for the arty-farty ball people, then they're missing out on having an amazing guest," said Ginny dramatically.
"And a modest one, too," chipped in Grace, grinning.
"Oh, shut up," Ginny said, elbowing her friend in the stomach as they headed up the stairs to the Room of Requirement.
They arrived, and Ginny did not even hesitate, nor worry about her lack of a dress. She did not wish for one – wishes wasted came to mind, and she pushed through the door.
The room hit her immediately, like a hammer. It was beautiful. The floor was glossy marble, and the walls sparkled. The band sang a sweet serenade, and the swoosh of many skirts was dazzling from each flash of silk, satin and glossy velvet. The food smelled delicious, and the most romantic paintings were put up around the walls.
"You and Eleanor really outdid yourselves on this," Grace said with a grateful smile.
Ginny was still stunned. Finally she said, "I didn't do this. Riddle did."
Grace's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
"… yeah."
The brunette snorted. "Pouf."
Her companion gave her an appraising, shocked look. "Grace!"
"What?" Grace said, as if she really couldn't see what was wrong with her comment. "No straight guy could make something so beautiful."
"You'd be surprised…" mumbled Ginny, and again she saw the words will you marry me written in roses on the Hogwarts grounds, in the most fabulous cursive, with a heart on the question-mark. It had been beautiful, serene, and perfect… and not for her.
Grace frowned. "What was that?"
"Nothing." Ginny walked towards the drinks table. Riddle's words still echoed, and, deciding that since she was coming of age today, and feeling bitter, she took a glass of Firewhiskey; downing it in one.
Immediately she felt as though her throat had caught fire, and her eyes were burning in their sockets. "Ow," she gasped out, clutching her neck. When the burning subsided, she licked her lips, grumbled, "Yummy" and stared out gloomily onto the dance-floor.
"Oh, couldn't the Mudblood afford a dress?" sneered Claude, appearing in front of Ginny, elegantly dressed in a gown that was, admittedly, beautiful, but did nothing for Claude's shape or colouring.
"I'd rather be a Mudblood than a pig forced into pink lace," Ginny said smoothly, taking another glass of Firewhiskey and sipping it – the flaming sensation from gulping it down was not favourable.
Claude's lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. "I'll get you later," she hissed, having no comeback, and stalked away with Avani and Ramira, her two right-hand idiots, before striding across the room and demanding a dance with Jack, seemingly to make Ginny jealous; the redhead was anything but.
Smirking to herself, Ginny drained her glass, shook her head to clear the smoke-coming-through-ears feeling, and sighed deeply. Everyone was dancing. There was Alden and Grace (a slightly odd couple, considering the height difference); Jack and Claude; Eleanor had come up and was dancing with a tall blonde young man with whom she looked totally smitten; Robert and Mia Brown were twirling around the room endlessly…
"I'm so glad we're going together, aren't you?" asked Neville excitedly, grinning his enthusiasm. He took Ginny's dampening palm and walked her out onto the dance-floor. They pirouetted once, and then twirled and swirled away on the marble floor.
"Yeah…" Ginny mumbled; though with every turn she looked over the fourth-year's shoulder and found the face of an awkward, flustered, bespectacled boy with Parvati – found the flickering glances to Cho Chang. Never good enough
"I still can't get over the fact that Riddle's gay," said Grace, appearing beside Ginny and taking a glass of punch.
"He's not."
"Why are you so adamant? Fancy him, d'you?" she sipped her punch, smirking. "Scott won't be pleased."
"No! Pigs will fly before I fancy that tosser," retorted Ginny. "Where is said tosser, anyway? I think I'll compliment him on the room…"
"See! You do fancy him."
"Actually, I'm giving his ego a chance to inflate before I burst it…" Ginny scanned the room. "Where is he?"
"I dunno." Grace too looked around. "He's not a very social person."
Ginny frowned. "Really?"
I'd have thought he was really popular. He's got so many Death Eaters; he must have loads of friends…
But Death Eaters are followers – not friends.
"I'd have thought he was quite popular," mused Ginny to Grace.
The brunette snorted. "Whatever gave you that impression?" she guffawed. "With his charm and wit? Oh yes, he's the bee's knees."
However, Ginny wasn't listening. Her eyes were closed as Grace's snort had just landed a large quantity of punch on her face. "Grace," she said irritably, opening her eyes, "I wanted the news, not the weather." She tugged her sleeve longer and wiped her face.
"Hm," said Grace. "I'm going to find Alden. I'm in the mood for a tango." With that, she set her punch glass down (empty – the contents were on Ginny's cheeks) and strode away through the crowd, swaying and humming.
She's mental. She's like a feminine Ron.
Blood, pooling around her feet. Ron's screams echoed and echoed, of absolute agony, his face draining of all colour as his body rapidly emptied of blood –
Ginny squeezed her eyes closed, trying to block out the memory. When it was gone, she grabbed another glass of Firewhiskey and downed it, gasping as the contents seared her stomach.
"Well, well, what do we have here?"
"A scrawny, short-tempered redhead without a dress who really needs to either sleep or get drunk," Ginny replied, not looking at who'd addressed her. "Either one. I'm not picky."
"Party-pooper," said Scott, pouting. "Come on, let's dance."
Ginny's heart pounded in her chest. She really wanted to, but dancing lead to hugging which lead to kissing and then she'd be left on her own again… but she really wanted to. "Nyes," she blurted out, combining her battling emotions.
Scott's eyebrows raised. "Nyes?" he teased. "Is that a 'scrawny, short-tempered redhead without a dress' way of answering?" he grinned at her, before offering his hand.
The hand. Outstretched, towards her. Ginny stared at it, her feelings clashing inside her heart. She apologized to herself, before shaking her head. "Sorry, Scott… not tonight."
She could have sworn that his face fell – it must have been a trick of the light, because he didn't like Ginny that way… did he? "Okay," he said, smiling. He walked away.
Shoulders sagging with disappointment, but her heart telling her it was for the best, Ginny took another glass of Firewhiskey. She was lifting it to her lips when suddenly a dark-haired Italian face was beside her.
"Dance with me?"
"Sure!" Ginny burst out, before she could even think. Before she knew what was happening, they were on the dance-floor together, one of his warm, soft hands at the small of her back, the other holding her own petite hand. Her stomach in her throat, she slid her arm around his neck, and they began to waltz.
Ah – I'm going to fall – no – that's his foot! – sorry, Scott – whoops – AH! – was that a banana peel? – no. It was his foot – AHHHH!
"I'm really sorry about this," apologized Ginny, face red as she collapsed into him for the hundredth time. "I'm not much of a dancer. Anyway, you brought this upon yourself, you know."
Scott grinned. "You're a brilliant dancer, Ginny. We're all brilliant dancers. You just happen to be the least brilliant in the room," he teased.
"Oi!" she gasped, and playfully slapped his arm.
"Ah – the lady wounds me," Scott lowered his head, attempting puppy-dog eyes.
'Attempting' being the operative word.
Eyes glowing with happiness, Ginny twirled out in a circle, her full swing-skirt flaring out effectively, Marilyn Munroe-style. She stumbled on something. And fell.
"Ow," Ginny complained. People started to laugh, and she turned onto her back, from where she was, flat on her face. "Some help, Scotty-boy?" she lifted her hands.
"Ohh, so now it's Scotty-boy?" the Ravenclaw laughed, before pulling his fallen dance partner to her feet. "I must say, Ginny, even in a state of disarray flat on the dance-floor… you look really nice."
Frozen.
So, with Bill and Fleur's marriage-sealing kiss, the party began. The music blared, and the dancing started. Ginny searched the crowd for Harry, and, as a professional with five years of Harry-crowd-searching, found him immediately. He looked incredible…
… and he was looking at her. "You look beautiful!" he yelled across the crowd to her. "I love you!"
Her eyes stung with tears. Her only dream. She was Harry's love. Harry, the famous Harry Potter, loved her. "Harry," she breathed, and started to move towards him when a yellow blur ran past her.
Ginny didn't acknowledge the yellow blur until she saw where it was going, and what it was… or rather, who. Luna, clad in a fabulous yellow gown, running to Harry – throwing her skinny arms around his neck – kissing him heatedly – "I love you, too" – pain
"Are you okay?" Scott said worriedly – after his compliment, Ginny had gone stiff and had stared blankly at him with eyes full of pain and horror.
His words snapped Ginny back to reality. "I'm… I'm fine…" she said, breathing hard.
"D'you want to keep dancing?" Scott inquired kindly, holding out his arm.
"No," Ginny choked out, and she walked away, holding her head between her hands and squeezing it hard. She grabbed another glass of Firewhiskey, downed it, and collapsed onto a chair, pinching the bridge of her nose.
There she sat, for so long that she lost track of time. She heard people making announcements; Claude in front of her, taunting her; but all that she focused on was swirling her Firewhiskey in its glass with her eyes tightly closed.
Someone tapped on her shoulder.
Ginny ignored them.
Someone tapped harder.
Ginny ignored them.
Someone shook her shoulder. "GINNY!"
The redhead opened her eyes blearily and stared up at Grace. "Whaddyou wan'?" she grumbled.
Grace eyed Ginny for a moment, taking in her slurred speech, over-emotional state, and hooded eyes. Then she commented, "You're drunk."
"Oh! Am I really?" snapped Ginny. "And today, on 'Geniuses R Us', we have Grace Hartwin – and her speciality, ladies and gentlemen, is the bloody obvious!"
"Geez, okay," said Grace, looking offended.
"Can we go?" demanded Ginny, slamming her glass down onto what she thought was the table – she heard a smash, and stared down at the broken goblet, wondering how it had gotten down there.
"Er. Sure." Grace bit her lip. "D'you need any help getting down to the dungeons?"
"No," said Ginny, looking affronted. "I am not a baby, Grace, I assure you that I'm fine to walk down to the-"
THUD.
"…that's the wall, Ginny."
"I am aware of that, Einstein."
"Who's Einstein?"
The redhead picked herself up from the floor by the wall, and, giving Grace a haughty look, stormed through the door, and started to head down to the dungeons.
When Ginny walked into her fifth wall, and started shouting and swearing at it get out of the way, Grace deciding that it was time for her to support her friend as best she could. She wrapped her arms around Ginny's skinny body and lugged it down the stairs.
"GraceIamfinenowgetoff!" Ginny yelled, slapping feebly at the brunette.
"Okay, okay!" Grace let go. "Ow…" she massaged her stomach, where she had been struck.
"See?" Ginny stuck her tongue out. "I am fi-"
Suddenly there was a sensation of the ceiling and floor being mixed into each other, and jolting pain, and Grace shrieking, "Ginny!" and then all went dark.
…
A/N: Haha. I love writing drunk people. It's so much fun. Thanks to my beta SilvanXan. Enjoy the rest of the fic! REVIEW! DO IT! NOW!
o00Bubbles00o: Caffeine is indeed lovely, isn't it? I'm glad you liked it, and I hope you laughed a lot on this one too, because I certainly did. Teehee. Lol, Canada is even further for me, because I live in the UK. Lol. Thanks for the review!
LunarEclispe: Thank you, I loved that part, too!
midnightblue17: Thanks! I had so many plot-bunnies for this fic, it gets really complicated very soon. I'll give you a hint – I didn't know what to classify it as. Mystery, thriller, supernatural, drama, romance. DUN DUN DUNN! Yeah, I think I will update it, because writing her memories are a bit gory. Thanks on the whole.
storm-brain: Thanks! Well, Riddle's a half-blood, so he thought that he was a Muggle, and therefore he had Muggle dental treatment while he was in the orphanage. Ginny isn't a murderer, so her heart's not really into it, and she's trying to delay having to kill someone. Thanks for the review.
SilvanXan: Okay, then. Thank you, you know that you're wonderful. –huggle-
vlucia: Thanks! Yes, there will, but not very many. Because, yes, it is a bad memory of how she was possessed, but she has so many much worse memories that it sort of gets blocked – like, she still has to get over the fact that her first and supposedly only love was murdered.
XxRandomHeartxX: Ooh, thank you! I know, I just wanted to add something that no-one would expect Voldie to have, to really send across the message that he's not a weird diary-Horcrux, or a freaky snake-eyes; he's a normal person, with feelings (though he hides them all) and, yes, dental problems. I loved the ending, too. It took me AGES to work out how to phrase his 'I came here to look after you' speech. Lol. Same with the neopets thing! I was obsessed with it for about two years, lmao.