A/N: Thanks to reviewers! Not really any GAP-TMR action in this. Or anyone else. But it's important. And sorry that it's so short.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Though I wish it was.
The Letter P
Chapter Nineteen: P is for Pranks Unsuitable For The Sensitive
"Scott," said Ginny, turning back to him. Her words were strangled, and she fighting desperately to keep her voice even and from wobbling. "You told
Refusing all of her desires, Ginny stuck up a rude hand-gesture at both of them, the Gryffindor and the Ravenclaw, and so, laughing hysterically, and still with the urge to kill, the redhead entered the Great Hall.
All eyes fixed upon her as she entered, and the room fell silent.
What did I say?
As she moved uncertainly to the Slytherin table, the staring continued, and the whispers started. Ginny couldn't hear individual comments, but she knew that every gossiping mouth was whispering her name.
Ginny found Alden and Grace's familiar faces and walked towards them. As she grew closer to the tables, she heard what was being said, and blanched.
"I heard they all died."
"I heard that she killed them all."
"Where was she from again?"
"I bet she killed them. And next… she's going to kill us
Her hands were clenching into fists. Scott. She would murder him. She would rip him to pieces. This is precisely why she hadn't wanted to tell anyone. She had told Riddle against her will… and Scott.
Well. I'll just get someone to tell him not to go to sleep tonight.
"Hey," said Ginny quietly, sitting beside Grace. "What's going on?"
They didn't reply. Alden looked horribly ashamed, and was concentrating very hard on his food; Grace was pale, shamefaced, and sympathetic.
"I'm sorry," the brunette Slytherin whispered.
Then Claude appeared on the other side of the table. "Can I have this seat?" she asked the second-year sitting opposite Ginny, and without waiting for a reply, said sweetly, "Thank you."
Sensing the dangerous waters, the second-year and his friends got up and scurried away.
"So," said Claude. "Here's my theory. You were in a Wizarding school, filled with purebloods – much like this one, actually. And you felt under-appreciated because of your blood status, so, poor jealous thing, you went and murdered them all." She smirked. "Hot or cold?"
Ginny swallowed. "I… I don't know what you're talking about," she lied, fighting to keep the stammer from her voice.
Claude smirked. "Sure you don't. What was your old school called again? Might be able to dig up some interesting gossip on what happened," she said casually.
Good luck with that.
"I don't…" Ginny's voice was strangled. "How – how do you know?"
"Oh!" gasped Claude mockingly. "But I thought that you didn't know what I was talking about…"
"Hello… it's Ginevra, right?" asked a third-year Hufflepuff, coming up behind her.
"Ginny, but yeah…" said Ginny slowly.
"Did you kill them?" demanded the Hufflepuff.
"I… no, I… I-" Ginny stammered, her face draining of all colour.
"Hey, leave her alone!" snapped Grace at the Hufflepuff, for which Ginny was grateful – however, this did not deter 1958 Hogwarts students.
It only encouraged them.
"Did you really see your friends die?"
"What's it like to see someone die?"
"Can you see Threstrals?"
"What exactly happened at your old school?"
"Who died?"
"What's your name?"
"I feel so sorry for you…"
"Why did you collapse in Muggle Studies?"
"What blood-status are you?"
"Did you kill them?"
"Is it weird seeing someone die?"
Ginny was trying not to shake. Her head was throbbing with painful memories threatening to drown her, and the questions and jeering were ringing in her head.
Holding her head in her hands… massaging her temples… make it shut up make it stop…
"SHUT UP!" yelled Grace, standing up to full height in all of her tall, terrifying glory. "Piss off, you insensitive arseholes – all of you!"
"What is going on?" demanded Professor Dumbledore – the Transfiguration teacher, identical to the twenty-first century Dumbledore, save for the auburn hair and beard – rising slightly in his seat to see what was causing the commotion.
"Thanks, Grace," said Ginny quietly. "I really appreciate it, but, you know, it's okay. I just… I'm going to go. Just… I can't take it. I'm sorry, but thanks."
Grace nodded. "Is there anything I can help with?" she tried.
"No, it's fine. Thanks," Ginny muttered, and stood. The jeering followed her, getting louder with every person she passed, like a horrible Mexican wave.
"HEY, PEREGRINE!"
She was at the door when she heard it. She turned, though her head was shouting, No good will come of it.
A Gryffindor was standing in the aisle. With a sinister grin on his lips, he threw a tomato directly into his chest. With a sickening flump it splattered crimson all across his upper torso.
Tears streamed down her face; Lord Voldemort laughed at the display of emotion. He waved his wand – with a twisted scream and in an explosion of blood, Bill fell –
The terrible Gryffindor let out a mock scream and fell to the floor, writhing and twisting in 'death throes'.
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 onto the floor around her...
Tears blurred her eyes, and with a cry of dismay, Ginny whirled around and fled the hall.
Her footsteps were pounding in her ears, thrumming in time with her fleeting heart. She ran blindly, totally unaware of where she was going. Her feet took their own path, thundering up and down stairs, dashing along the corridors.
You can't run forever.
The words spoken by both her brain and heart spoke the truth, and a stitch was forming in Ginny's abdomen. She slowed down, her breathing ragged, and leaned against the wall to clear her thoughts and her vision from tears.
Unbeknownst to Ginny, the wall just beside where her elbow leant was a door, and it silently opened.
She did not hear the opening of the door – Ginny heard someone breathing behind her.
Alarmed, Ginny spun to see who had snuck up on her.
A tall, dark silhouette in the dark corridor that had opened up behind Ginny. It held a knife.
Ginny, eyes wide with terror, let out a loud, piercing scream, but before she could turn and run, a cold, long-fingered hand clamped painfully over her mouth and –
PAIN.
Black.
xxx
A/N: OMG! Who is it? Who attacked her? Why? Will she be okay? Find out tomorrow on The Letter P, BBC Two. Thanks to my beta SilvanXan. Review. Review. Do it or I'll stalk you and eat you.
WARNING: THE PLOT TWISTS HAVE ARRIVED. HAHAHAHA.
KayRose: Can I have a great big hug and a nice big double, chocholate chip, dutch, fudge, brownie? –grin- Just joking. Well, Scott's hot. Haven't we all at some point stayed with a asshole because he's hot? Lmao. Thank you!
o0Bubbles0o: Ooh thank you! I'd love to check through your fics. I'm already betaing SilvanXan. Lol. (Which, by the way, if you're reading this, SilvanXan, I'm still getting onto. I think I lost the file. Oops) And thanks, I'm glad someone liked the snoggy bits.
LittleNK: Thanks! Yeah, don't worry. She'll hex him at some point. –evil grin-
Saene: Yeah. Boys suck. I don't bother either. Partly because I just want a sort of fairytale romance like the ones in my fics. Meh. Yeah, she will. Later. Latttteerrrr. –sinister eyes- Bwahaha. ?? Even I don't have dreams about them. Oo Weiiird. Thank you!
XxRandomHeartxX: Scott's evil. I should stab him. But he's kind of important, so I can't. Thanks. I love Tom as well. He's just sort of… get the hell away from me, I don't like you all the time. Yeah, I know what part you mean. –wink- We'll be seeing more of that. I love sugar-highs. I had one yesterday. Just eat the burnt marshmallows. Sure, they give you cancer – but they taste good. :D
Intricacy: Lol, don't we all? Thanks!
creative-writing-girl13: No, you can't, sorry. Not only is he kind of important, but also there's a queue to kill him. LOL. Everyone wants to. Thanks!