A/N: A little bit of Tom here. Fairly important, not really. Enjoy. Just a sort of filler.
COMPETITION:
The winner is anonymous reviewer branni, who guessed correctly with the bands Panic! At The Disco and Kids In Glass Houses! WOOP! She'll be getting a oneshot! Teehee! And also, I'd like to mention ShhImNotMVP and XxRandomHeartxX, who both got the band Panic! At The Disco, so they got it half-right. Sadly, no oneshots for them, but they will be having a smooch from a fictional young Dark Lord of their choice. THANK YOU!
Disclaimer: Get the idea into your head. I don't own it. Now move on.
The Letter P
Chapter Thirty-Two: P is for Point-Black Refusal
Ginny turned to the voice that had spoken. "Yesh, Riddle," she slurred at him, hands on her hips. "That's what I said. Because you… you are seeeeexyyyyyy!" she sang, terrifyingly high-pitched.
"Well, duh!" giggled Ginny. "I'm already taken. Alden Philips," she chirruped. "Didn't you know?" she gave a high-pitched giggle, and then promptly downed the majority of her Firewhiskey bottle. "Yum yum yum!" she yelled, jumped to her feet –
Riddle was staring at her, his eyes dark and weeeirrrrd. A thousand crazy urges… weeeeee – THUD. She let out one last manic giggle before the world went dark.
xxx
Owwww.
Ginny blearily tried to open her eyes, but was overcome by the pounding headache and the stinging muscles. She groaned.
Owww.
She tried again, this time succeeding. Her eyes were sticky and her vision was blurred, but she blinked several times and kneaded her eye-sockets clumsily with her knuckles.
"Mmpgghf," she groaned, and stretched her mouth in a cavernous yawn. Then she looked sleepily at her surroundings. She was not, as she had expected, sprawled out inelegantly on the floor, as she had expected. She was lying quite neatly on the sofa of one of the private cubbies in the corner of the pub.
What… what happened?
The redhead furrowed her brow as she frantically tried to recall what she had done last night. She hoped desperately that she hadn't down anything ridiculous or embarrassing.
Something called the 'Lydia dance'… a lot of Firewhiskey… a lot of giggling… a lot of kissing… and singing in a very high-pitched voice…
Oh God no.
The chance of her not doing anything humiliating was now approximately one to a thousand. Unless she was in a truly terrible mood when she started drinking, she always became extremely hyper, something that always ended in general embarrassment – once, at Harry's seventeenth birthday, accompanied by hospitalisation.
She sat up, her muscles protesting angrily at the movement, her head spinning from the slight move of position, and frowned past the blur that was a very unpleasant hangover.
Blinking once – twice – she looked around. On other seats were equally hung-over Eleanor and the rest of the Prefects.
Where's…
Bewildered, Ginny glanced from her left side to her right, and there saw him. Sitting, straight-backed, in a chair on the other side of the room, staring out of the small, grubby window. He looked as alert and observant as ever, though he didn't seem to have slept.
It was weird to think of Riddle sleeping. Ginny saw him as the arrogant, cold Head Boy – that all he did was argue and be irritated with the world. However, he slept, and ate, and drank; things that, admittedly, Ginny had never seen him do, nor even thought he was capable of. The closest to seeing slumber was him unconscious on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, in a puddle of blood.
Not quite the same.
"Haven't we been rescued yet?" asked Ginny groggily, rubbing her eyes again and stumbling to her feet. She looked down at said feet and saw that her beloved pink-and-orange stripey socks had a hole in the big toe.
"If we had been rescued, don't you think that we'd be back in the castle?" replied Riddle icily, his tone short.
"You and Eleanor can Apparate," Ginny said, and found a rather unpleasant amount of accusation in her voice. "You could've Apparated up to the castle and got a teacher."
"Have you never bothered to read Hogwarts: A History?" Riddle snapped. "You can't Apparate onto Hogwarts grounds!"
This was something that Hermione had pressed onto Ginny, as well as onto Ron and Harry, a thousand times, and it set off a pang of pain through her chest.
"You could've at least Apparated outside of the bloody pub!" Ginny snarled.
"If it was that easy, I would have done it by now, wouldn't I?" Riddle retaliated angrily. "We – can – not – get – out! There are wards around the whole building!"
Pride stinging, Ginny found that she had nothing to say to it, and her own ignorance had just been proved. Her cheeks glowed, and with a final glare she sat back down.
There was a thick silence lying between them that, in total, lasted an impressive feat of an hour and a half. During this time, the other Prefects and Eleanor woke up (the Head Girl cast Sobering Charms on everyone with a hangover), and, refusing point-blank to be the first to surrender the war of hush. Ginny was inwardly smirking; she had years of practice at staying quiet.
In a house with seven brothers, you get used to not being able to say anything – drowned out by the rest of the chatter. I can stay like this for days.
It was only when orange light flashed through the cracks around the door, and then it swung open, that she decided that it was enough of being childish; Ginny ran enthusiastically to the door. There stood Professor Vander, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Dippet. She could have kissed them, she was so happy.
She quickly slipped her shoes on, snatched up her coat, and straightened her skirt before darting to the door. "I'm so sorry, Professors," she babbled, "for dragging you out here, and thank you for rescuing us and -"
"Whose brilliant idea was this?" asked Dippet, frowning at them all. "This could have turned out very dangerous. You could have all been injured; you could have frozen to death in the snow! You didn't tell anyone where you going – no-one knew where you were at all! I assure you, he or she who decided on this will lose their position of power for sure."
Oh no. Ginny's heart sank. She cast a surreptitious glance at Eleanor, who had suggested the Hogsmeade trip; the blonde was white as a sheet, and trembling at the prospect of losing her Head Girl-ship.
Without a second's hesitation, she blurted out, "It was me."
The three male Professors turned a unanimous sharp gaze on her.
"I suggested it," Ginny continued. Her heart was pounding, and her mouth was very dry. She had always wanted to be a Prefect. And now she was losing her position. "I wanted to do something fun after I came out of the Hospital Wing. Riddle and Eleanor tried to tell me that it was a bad idea, but I wouldn't listen. I went anyway, against their warnings that it would be dangerous, and they followed, to keep me out of trouble."
"That still doesn't explain why you went without telling anyone," said Dumbledore, his voice strangely stern, though his blue eyes were twinkling.
"I… I was…"
If you're going to lose your Prefect-ship, you might as well go for the full Monty.
"I drank a lot of Butterbeer before the meeting," Ginny lied quickly, attempting to force a blush into her cheeks. "I was on a massive sugar-high. I was a potential danger to myself if they left me alone. I ran away, and, as the loyal and caring Heads, Eleanor and Riddle put my safety first priority against telling a Professor where they were going. The Prefects followed and then… well, I suppose that we forgot."
"I see," said Dumbledore, looking sideways at Dippet.
The Headmaster was frowning at Ginny. "Miss Peregrine, when we arrive back at the castle, you will not be going to your classes with the others. You will accompany me to my office," he said.
"Yes, sir," Ginny said quietly. She felt everyone's eyes upon her; Eleanor, guilty but grateful; the Prefects, a mingled collection of shock and bewilderment; and Riddle, stunned.
Yeah, well, just because you don't give a damn about anyone or anything except you and your stupid Head-ship doesn't mean we're all like that, Ginny thought bitterly.
"Right then, everyone, yes, put on your coats, yes, and your shoes, dear me, what happened in here, yes, yes, come on then, let's go," said Professor Vander, ushering them out of the pub.
Ginny pulled her coat on, and followed the teachers humbly. However, she was dragged to the side by Eleanor.
"What the hell?" the Head Girl whispered frantically. "Ginny, you're going to lose your position as Prefect for sure! It was my fault, why did you do that?"
"You love being Head Girl," Ginny reminded her. "And me? Well. I'm just hoping I don't get expelled for getting nine other students into a possibly dangerous situation," she finished, her voice numb. She didn't think that she would be able to handle expulsion. She smiled bravely at Eleanor, and hurried out of the pub – she didn't want the Professors to get suspicious.
xxx
The door closed with a slight bang behind the stocky redhead. Dippet's Augurey, which she knew now to be named Merle, gave a low, mournful hoot upon Ginny's entrance, and fixed beady, dark green eyes upon her.
Yes, I've been bad. I don't need you judging me too, you stupid bird.
As if it had heard her thoughts and was highly offended, Merle let out a rush of air from her beak and turned on her perch, away from the seventeen-year-old.
Dippet shuffled about behind his desk, and then sat neatly in his leather-backed chair. "Sit," he instructed, indicating a wooden chair that had just appeared from nowhere.
Doing as she was told, Ginny dropped into the chair, her eyes lowered.
"Now, Miss Peregrine," said Dippet, settling his spectacles onto his nose and peering at her through them. "May I inquire as to why you took the blame?"
Alarmed, Ginny looked up at him. "W-what?"
"You and I both know that it was not your idea to go down to Hogsmeade. Whether or not you showed any enthusiasm towards the spontaneous journey from the Hogwarts grounds, you did not strike the spark that caused the flame," said Dippet knowledgably.
There was a hush. Ginny didn't know what to say.
"It was Miss Fionn, I believe?" continued Dippet, pulling a sheet of parchment towards him and straightening it on the hard surface of his desk.
"No sir. It was me," Ginny said bluntly. She refused to get one of her friends in trouble for a reason as silly as this.
"Miss Peregrine, no-one is going to get in any trouble," Dippet said wearily, as though he had read her thoughts. "I assure you."
Relief flooded through the redhead. "Really?" she said anxiously, hardly daring to believe that she could keep her position as Prefect.
"Yes, really, Miss Peregrine," responded Dippet smoothly. "Now, I'm going to trust that it is indeed Miss Fionn?"
Ginny bit her lip. "Yes sir," she replied after a moment of uncertainty. "But, please, sir, don't-"
"I won't," Professor Dippet reassured her, sounding irritated, yet him dipping a large eagle-feather in a pot of black ink and scratching across the parchment in a firm manner of authority did nothing to console her. "I am curious however, as to why you decided, seemingly without much thought on the matter, to defend her and therefore get yourself in trouble when you had nothing to do with it.
Ginny merely shrugged.
"It was very noble of you," replied Dippet. "Now, I will not make a bigger mess of this situation than it already is, so you will receive a month's detention, and that will be the end of it."
He dotted a full-stop on the parchment, rolled it up, and set in aside. "Let's hope that this never repeats itself, Miss Peregrine," he said sternly. Then he shooed her away to her lessons.
"Thank you, sir," said Ginny, struggling to contain her grin.
With a muttered phrase that she didn't quite catch, Dippet shooed her from his office, and the redhead gleefully obliged. She skipped down the stone steps, beaming at her luck of getting off so easily.
She ran down to the Slytherin common room to fetch her books, and then hurried to catch up to Grace and Alden, who would be heading towards Transfiguration. She couldn't wait to tell them about the meeting, and how she had escaped Dippet's punishment.
"Grace! Alden!" she yelled happily, waving her arms as she thundered down the final few steps.
Her friends wheeled around to look at her.
"Where have you been?" Grace exclaimed, wrapping her in a bear-hug.
"Hello," said Alden; he, reluctantly, awkwardly, kissed her cheek – not without first, Ginny noticed, a wary glance at Grace.
Ginny told them the whole story, delicately skirting the parts involving Riddle, hoping that she wasn't being too obvious, and was smothered in questions and gaping-mouthed exclamations of "but you could've been trapped for ages in there".
"Alright, hush now, students," said Professor Dumbledore, blue eyes twinkling down at them all. "Into the classroom."
Grace jostled Ginny in an attempt to get into the classroom, forming a childish race between the two. The redhead would have happily joined in the immature squabble, but a flailing hand struck her hard on the forearm, and she yelped in pain. "Ow!"
"What's wrong?" Grace frowned.
Ginny spluttered for a moment like an angry kettle. Then she lied, "Nothing", not wanting to worry her companions. She looked down at her hand, now wrapped around the source of the pain – her forearm.
The pose was oddly familiar…
The Death Eaters.
It was identical to when their Mark burned as Lord Voldemort called them to him. That position on her arm was where the Dark Mark lay – and also, she remembered, where she had been sliced open by an anonymous attacker in the Chamber of Secrets, and then found by Riddle.
She gasped.
Svenagli!
Myrtle's murder!
I totally forgot!
"Hello, earth calling Planet Ginny?" called Grace, waving her hand in front of Ginny's face.
"Wha-? Oh. Yeah. Hi," said Ginny, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.
"Are you okay? You seem kind of blanked out today," said Grace, frowning worriedly.
"Yeah. Fine."
"Well, come into Transfiguration, then. You're blocking the doorway."
Nodding, and apologizing to the crowd of people waiting behind her, Ginny entered the room and found her seat. Dumbledore began a speech about Animagi, but the seventeen-year-old's thoughts were elsewhere. She would have an interesting evening tonight.
xxx
A/N: Dum dee dum. Review, please and thank you. Thanks to my beta SilvanXan.
MAJOR PLOT-TWISTS COMING BACK INTO PLAY.
Xxx
o00Bubbles00o: Poor Tom. Thank you!
Josephine Sawyer: True, actually. There can never be an online conversation that lasts more than a month where the topic of Nazis doesn't come up. Depressing. –sigh- Thanks! Yeah, I thought that it would be really awkward for Ginny to remembering calling Tom –ahem- handsome, shall we say.
Saene: Ah. I see. I have two dogs that sometimes do that. At the same time. –wince- They're more of Hufflepuff pets; they lounge around and lick your feet. Haha. No offence to Hufflepuffs. BACK OFF! TOM'S MINE! –grabs him defensively-
branni: Thank you! What do you what your oneshot to be about? You can have romance (you have to tell me the pairing) or angst or supernatural or humour or whatever you want. But you have to give me characters and settings. Have fuun.
creative-writing-girl13: Oh, I thought she was really funny. –pout-
X-XsiobhanX-X: Thank you! Yeah, it made me hyper too… :D
SiRiUsLyInLuV: Er, no, because Tom – despite what everyone else thinks – is really, really shy, which we'll see later, and he's never actually had a friend before, and he's never liked a girl before… Sad. But that'll change soon. –wink- Sorry, so no.
The-Quoi: Okay, three things. One: I love your pen-name. It is awesome. Two: Your evil guinea pig comment made me laugh SO HARD! Three: Sadly, Tim can't eat my soul, because I never had one to start with. –sob- And thank you! Wait, that's four.
ShhImNotMVP: Thank you so much! I was a bit worried if I wrote the drunk part well enough, because actually I've never been drunk, and I've only ever seen one of my friends drunk, and he was basically normal except for the fact that he tried to kiss me. –shiver- Oh, the horror.
Faye8222: I had a kindergarden buddy called Faye. Except that she was really, really evil and she got all of her friends to attack me when her teacher wasn't looking. I'm sure that you're not evil, though. Thank you!
storm-brain: Oh! Right! That! Yeah, I know. Um, Tom thought it was a totally stupid idea. Lol. Oopsies. I updated the rating, didn't I?
BDSanta2001: -does Lydia dance- Lol!
XxRandomHeartxX: Brendon Urie is awesome. I love P!ATD, except now it sucks because they dropped the exclamation mark. –SOB- Anywho. Thank you loads!
Xxx