A/N: Thanks to reviewers! There's a little Tom at the end. But the next chapter is filled with Tomness! (lol XxRandomHeartxX). Anywho. Ginny learns something interesting. Enjoy.
NOTE: On Saturday, I'm going to France. Sorry. No updates after Saturday until the NEXT Monday. But I'll have lots and LOTS of updates for you when I return. :D
Disclaimer: I own it all. Every plot, every character, every spell, every place. Not.
The Letter P
Chapter Twenty-Four: P is for Pretending To Be Shallow
"Ginny, it's Svengali! It's illegal!It's a severe act of Dark Wizarding evil! It's from somewhere foreign. Ending in –ia. Something. Romania. Slovakia. Bulgaria. Albania. I forget," Grace said absently, waving her hand. She dropped the book onto Ginny's bed, and started to burrow through her trunk for her pajamas.
Salazar Slytherin was born in Albania! Voldemort lived much of his life in Albania! The first Parselmouth was discovered in Albania! HELL!
"So what is it?" Ginny pushed further, feeling her pulse speed up with anticipation.
"It's an act of possessing and controlling another human being for evil purposes, usually ending in the victim's death."
Let's think back five years. When I was eleven… Shit
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"It's… it's what?" Ginny choked out.
"I don't know. Something like that," Grace shrugged.
Cogs turned in the redhead's brain. Then, realization of what she had to do dawning on her, she leapt to her feet. "Gotta go!" she blurted. "I'll be back before curfew, don't worry!"
"If you're not, I'll cover for you," said Grace loyally. "Be careful, it's getting dark."
"Thanks!" yelled Ginny before disappearing through the door. She barrelled past Flora and Avani, who were descending down the stairs to the dormitory, and left the Slytherin common room.
As she hurried up the steps from the dungeons, shivering in the cold night air, she dug into her pockets and fished out her pocket-watch.
Eight thirty. She had half an hour until curfew.
Up the stairs, around the corner, through the secret corridor… and out.
Ginny stopped before the door for the abandoned girls' bathroom. She sucked in a deep breath, and then slammed through the doors, letting out loud sobs. Being the baby girl of six brothers, she had to be able to turn on the waterworks like the flick of a switch in order to survive.
"Gin, I wanna use the toy broom now!" said a six-year-old Ron Weasley, stamping his foot. "Give it!" he tried to wrestle it from her little hands.
On command, Ginny burst into tears. "Wonnie," she howled. "No!"
A thirteen-year-old Charlie came quickly through the door. "Ron, leave her alone," he scolded, scooping the little girl into his arms. "There, there, Ginny, shush."
Just to be safe, Ginny sobbed a bit louder. She sat on the floor and 'cried' into her arms.
"What are you doing here?" someone demanded, in a cold, and slightly squeaky voice. The two aspects of the person's speech contrasted, creating a very odd effect.
It was Moaning Myrtle Tristanebury. She was quite small, and fat, with thick dark hair in two very neat pigtails; the parting in her hair was perfectly straight, ending abruptly in a very heavy fringe. Underneath the fringe were thick, round spectacles to challenge even Trelawney's, through which teary, yet suspicious, brown eyes were narrowed. She wore her school uniform – her skirt neat, her robes pressed carefully, her tie ironed to perfection.
"Oh!" exclaimed Ginny. "Why – I – I'm terribly sorry," she sniffed. "I thought that this bathroom was abandoned."
"It is abandoned," Myrtle said, her lower lip jutting out in the pout to mother all pouts. "It's abandoned because I died in here!"
Ginny gasped. "Really?"" she whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm new here. Hogwarts' first transfer student. My name's Ginny, by the way. Ginny Peregrine." She looked around at the bathroom. "My boyfriend just broke up with me," she added with a sniffle. "What's your name?"
"Myrtle," replied the young ghost, her voice sounding tearful again.
"Hi, Myr," said Ginny, grinning. "You don't mind if I call you 'Myr', do you? I mean, Myrtle is just kind of long, dontcha think?" she twirled a strand of hair around her finger, trying to seem as stupid and shallow as possible. "My name is, like, so long! It's Ginevra Aiobheann Peregrine! I mean, seriously! Like, what were my parents thinking?"
Myrtle snorted. She didn't look impressed.
"So how long have you been here?" Ginny asked, eyeing the bathroom with what she hoped looked like disdain. "'Cause, you know, this place could totally use a splash of colour." She waved her arms about. "A scarf here, a painting canvas there… the works!"
"A year."
Ginny 'gaped'.
"No – way!" she exclaimed. "But, like, I thought that all of the ghosts here were like, a gazillion years old!"
"Well, most of them are," said Myrtle, shifting her glasses higher up her snub nose. "They got killed in the Norman invasions, most of them."
"Ohhh." Ginny's hazel eyes widened. "Coo-el. What about you then, Myr? Did you, like, get stabbed by an angered lover or what?" she inquired, fiddling with her fingernails.
"No," said Myrtle, almost sadly, Ginny thought. "I was killed a year ago."
There was a moment's pause before the meaning of the fifteen-year-old dead Hufflepuff's words sank in, and realization dawned on Ginny.
One.
Two.
Three.
Killed?!
Wait – that would imply murder, or manslaughter. Not… not being frozen by a hungry basilisk!
"Killed?" Ginny echoed. This time, her awe and shock was real. "You mean… killed, killed?"
"No, I meant chicken-pot-pie, killed," said Myrtle sardonically, with what had to be the worst comeback ever. "Yes, killed, killed! I was murdered in this bathroom in the evening after I ran away from Olive Hornby."
Murdered?
Myrtle was murdered?
"But – murdered – murdered by who?" asked Ginny incredulously, anticipation and a slight chill of fear pounding through her veins.
Myrtle opened her mouth-
"Peregrine. I thought I heard you in here."
ARGH!
Fighting back the urge to rip the speaker into a thousand pieces, she took a deep breath. A glare settling onto Ginny's features, she wheeled around and glared at the speaker. "Riddle," she said coldly, her hazel eyes narrowing to slits.
He towered above her, and a look of suspicion, mingled with wry bemusement, glittered in his dark eyes.
"It's two minutes until curfew, Peregrine," continued Riddle glacially. "Don't you think that you're cutting it a bit fine?" he flickered his gaze across the room, landing briefly on Myrtle, behind the redhead. "You're not even allowed in here."
How dare you! Myrtle was about to tell me who murdered her!
And now she won't tell me!
"Sorry, Riddle," said Ginny darkly, firing him another glare. She turned quickly back to Myrtle. "Who?" she asked.
Myrtle shook her head. Her brown eyes were wide and she was staring very strangely at Riddle. "I… I can't," she howled, and then plunged back into the U-bend.
ARGH! Thanks so much, Riddle!
"Come on, Peregrine," said Riddle frostily, before turning sharply on his heel and marching away, his cloak billowing behind him.
Merlin, how I loathe you.
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A/N: Oooooooooh. Thanks to my beta SilvanXan. REVIEW! You know you want to….
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XxRandomHeartxX: Ronald McDonald scares me. –shiver- Lol. Same, I'm not good with flying. I have never flown. In my past life, I was a stick. Sticks do not fly. Lol. Thank you!
creative-writing-girl13: Thanks!
AppleC0re: Well, I kind of gave you Tom. But he's BIG in the next chapter. Is that enough for you? –puppy dog eyes-
SiRiUsLyInLuV71: Yeah, I know that her birthday's supposed to be in August… but it didn't work with the plot, like you said. What's a Centric? –frown- Haha. Beg, fool, beg. Well, I updated. And thank you for your wonderful review, it made me all happy on the inside.
BDSanta2001: Yeah, I thought that Ginny was seriously under-appreciated. Plus, no offence to JKR or anything, or to anyone who ships Harry-Ginny, but their relationship is sort of stupid. It just basically sends out a message to girls that if you pine after something long enough, you'll eventually get it. –cough-stupid-cough- Thanks!
ricekrispies: I loved that part, too. Thanks!
storm-brain: Thank you! Er, no, because Ginny pretended that it wasn't hers. Plus, Ginny had no idea what Svengali was, so she 'couldn't' have taken it out. Supposedly.
Leah: HAHA. Playing around with geese… HAHA. Ooh. I can't wait to see your fic. Thank you!
kyraThePoop: Aw, thanks! Er, I'm learning German, but I'm really bad at it. And I spoke Dutch when I was four but I forgot all of it except yes, no, and good morning. Why? 0o
chimis: Aw, sorry! I mentioned Tom in this one. Even if it was only for a bit. Sorreeeeee. Happy birthday! HAHA. Die, Barbie, die.
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