A/N: A bit sad. A bit fluffy. A bit gory. I LOVE YOU, I had about THIRTY reviews, you're bloody amazing. All of you. And sorry that it took me so long to update – actually, this time my laptop wasn't confiscated. It's just that it took me all day to write review replies. Lmao. READ THE FIC!
Disclaimer: Get the idea into your head. I don't own it. Now move on.
The Letter P
Chapter Thirty-Four: P is for Pieces Missing
A bloody, disfigured mess in a pool of spreading crimson that Ginny recognized vaguely as a person – someone who had, until recently, been alive and well. "OPEN YOUR EYES!" Ginny yelled, hysterical. "A Professor has been murdered! All over the floor! IS THAT NORMAL FOR YOU?! OF COURSE WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BLOODY PANIC!"
"Who's that other one?" Someone else? Someone else was attacked? Fearing the worst, Ginny turned. Indeed, she had missed to see that there was, a few metres away, another body lying in the blood. This body wasn't mutilated, as Vander was. However, it was as equally lifeless and terrifying to see. This sight chilled Ginny more than the sight of Professor Vander did, and, with no regard towards the people around her, screamed. "RIDDLE!"
xxx
People were gasping; muttering; shouting; it was a blur. She couldn't hear, she couldn't see – just the sprawled out, scarlet body across the corridor.
"Miss Peregrine!" Dippet shouted from within the haze of panic that was flooding through the redhead's senses. "Get back here! It isn't safe; the area could be cursed!"
It probably was cursed – as she stepped over where an invisible line lay, there was a sensation as though she was walking through solid ice. She let out a cry as her head pounded and her limbs numbed, but she continued. "Riddle," she choked out, skidding in the growing lake of blood and falling to her knees beside him. The liquid was hot and sticky beneath her knees, but her disgust was by far overwhelmed by her terror.
"Students are to return to their dormitories immediately!" bellowed Dippet. "Students are to return to their dormitories immediately!"
Professor Selene, the Divination teacher, cast a Loudening Charm on her voice and shouted the message to the school, before escorting the students away from that part of the corridor.
Riddle was paler than ever – almost transparent. Any proof that he meticulously combed his hair every morning was gone. He was smeared with blood. And he didn't seem to be breathing.
"Miss Fionn, if you could Miss Boyka to the Hospital Wing and wait there with her until Madam Royce is available?" Dippet ordered to a white-faced Eleanor. The Head Girl nodded dumbly in reply, and stumbled closer to the body, looking terrified; took hold of the first-or-second-year's hand, and led her away.
"Riddle," Ginny whispered. She grabbed his arm – his left forearm.
Slashed.
As she had expected.
The attacker was getting serious.
Two dead now. One living. And one… Ginny didn't know if Riddle was okay or not; alive or dead.
Please don't be dead…
"Riddle, please-" She moved a hand to the side of his neck and tried to pull him into a more comfortable position that being sprawled out as if… as if he was…
He's not!
Then his eyelashes fluttered briefly again his pale cheeks, and he cracked his eyes open. "P…Peregrine," he croaked – even in a state of near-death on the marble floor, he was able to furrow his brow into a frown. "How… how did you…"
"Riddle, Riddle, shh," Ginny whispered.
"Mr. Riddle, you will need to come immediately to my office to sort out this mess," demanded Dippet.
"What?" Ginny leapt to her feet. "Sir, you can't actually believe that it was him – him who killed-" she averted her eyes from what had used to be Professor Vander, and stared the Headmaster defiantly in the face.
"Really, Miss Peregrine?" snapped Dippet, strangely out-of-character as to his usual attitude. "If you'll direct your gaze towards what is in Mr. Riddle's hand, then I believe that you'll change your own opinion!"
Ginny did as instructed.
The knife.
The long knife that had taken both Riddle's blood and her own was in the Head Boy's loosely-curled, long-fingered hand.
"It could have been planted there!" cried Ginny, taking the defence instantly, though not sure why.
"Miss Peregrine, I have already had two murders in my school!" bellowed Dippet angrily, drawing himself to full height. "I will not be subject to any more! This – business – ends – now!"
"Peregrine," Riddle rasped again from behind her.
She wheeled around to look at him.
He was staring up at her with a look in his eyes that Ginny had never seen before – yet its meaning was perfectly clear. It was the look of a hanged man just before he gets to the noose: please believe me. I didn't do it.
"Sir, he didn't do it," Ginny protested, a note of pleading in her tone.
"This case is closed!" snarled Dippet. "Miss Peregrine, I shall also see you in my office tonight! You have just earned yourself a week's detentions for your back-chat and sheer disrespect!"
"Oh no," said Ginny sarcastically. "Because of course, it's not like I'm being punished enough already for something that I didn't even do!" she glared pointedly at Dippet, to pass across the meaning of how she was being punished for sticking up for Eleanor.
Dippet merely stared at her through narrowed emerald eyes. Then he said sharply, "We will discuss this later, Miss Peregrine. Now, Mr. Riddle, if you'd care to follow me."
Feeling weary with defeat, Ginny turned back to Riddle. She didn't say anything to him – what could she say? She silently offered a hand to help him up, but, ever proud, Riddle refused it and got up by himself, stifling a gasp of pain.
She stood and watched him walk stiffly through the blood. He staggered around Professor Vander's maimed body, and then he took a step forwards; let out a barely audible groan of what could only be agony, and collapsed against the wall.
She shrieked, "Riddle," and ran after him. She knew instantly what had caused his pain, as she stepped over the same area that he had, and immediately felt again the sensation of numbing – ice – pounding – pain – as she crossed what must be the barrier of the cursed area. Pushing through what felt like sub-zero temperatures, Ginny left the curse behind and hurried to the Head Boy, who was leaning his entire weight onto the wall and was slowly slipping down it due to his clothes being slippery with blood.
Warily, and afraid of being snapped at, Ginny peered into his ghostly-pale face. Riddle didn't reply.
"Professor Dippet, sir, we have to take him to the Hospital Wing," Ginny said seriously. "He's not well."
"He can be patched up after he's been through a series of questioning!" Dippet snapped. The change in his character was uncanny and frightening. When had he transformed into this beast of a Headmaster?
"But sir-!"
"Silence!" the elderly man barked, holding up a hand of authority. "Miss Peregrine, that will now be two weeks of detention in addition to the month's detentions you are already booked for. If I were you, I'd keep a wise tongue in your – if, that is, you wish you retain your position as Prefect."
Fury bubbled up inside Ginny until she was almost ready to scream. Preparing herself for a severe blow – verbal or, perhaps, even physical – she shifted her arm around Riddle's back, tilted her chin up at the Headmaster and said defiantly, "I'm taking him to the Hospital Wing right now, and I'm sorry to say, sir, that you can do absolutely nothing about it."
Dippet swelled angrily like a balloon. His veined cheeks turned purple. "Miss Peregrine, you are coming dangerously close to losing your Prefect-ship!" he shouted, waving a fist at her.
Ginny gave a humourless laugh. "Of course, silly me," she said. She knew that she was sassing the Headmaster, and she'd doubtlessly get in trouble for it, but she blundered ahead regardless, "I forgot that these days doing what's right is punishable." With one last rebellious glare, the redhead heaved Riddle onto his feet, and staggered away with him down the hallway.
She was barely a few steps around the corner when Madam Royce came bustling into view.
"Oh, dear," she clucked like a worried mother hen. "Oh, no, oh no. Poor Mr. Riddle – here, Miss Peregrine, here," she waved her wand and conjured a stretcher, and then lifted Riddle onto it with ease. "I'll take it from here, Miss Peregrine, don't you worry."
The words "I'm coming" had left her mouth before she realised that she was speaking, and by the time that she thought about what she was doing, she was jogging along beside a speeding stretcher.
"Dear, has Headmaster Dippet gone into another one of his crazed anger bouts?" Madam Royce inquired, steering Riddle and his moving bed through a series of doors that Ginny swore were usually walls. "I thought I heard his austere tone. Oh dear. What happened?"
"Professor… Professor Vander… was found dead," Ginny said, feeling tears blur her eyes. "Riddle was a few feet away, unconscious – and he was holding a knife. The area around them was cursed, and upon leaving the area, I think… well, I have no idea," she admitted.
"Cadwygawn? Dead?" Madam Royce echoed. She shook her head. "Oh dear, what has this school become?" she then frowned. "You don't look too well, yourself. Did you pass through this cursed zone?"
"Yeah, but-"
"What was it like?"
"Um. Very cold, and very harsh. Like walking through freezing temperatures. It made me numb and it made my head spin," Ginny said, shivering just to think of it.
"Oh dear, oh no…" fussed Madam Royce, blanching.
"What? Ma'am, what is it?" Ginny panicked, her blood running cold. "Is – is Riddle going to be… okay? Will he be alright?"
The matron did not reply.
The two females powered through the Hospital Wing doors, and Ginny fell behind as Madam Royce pushed the stretcher to the very end of the room; drew curtains around it; disappeared into a cupboard, complete with crashing and banging noises; and appeared again with a tray laden with dangerous-looking items that did not console the redhead.
Without so much as a comforting glance towards Ginny, Madam Royce vanished behind the curtains, and the seventeen-year-old Prefect was left alone. She stood solitary for a moment, but then looked around and saw, a few beds away, Eleanor Fionn holding the dark-haired girl who had found Professor Vander and Riddle.
"Hey," Ginny said softly, approaching them.
Eleanor looked up. She was still pale, but her shaking had subsided. The first-year, however, was in Eleanor's arms, and trembling quietly into the Head Girl's jumper.
"Oh – Ginny. Hello," said Eleanor, forcing a smile.
The first-year turned her head slightly to see Ginny. Her eyebrows crinkled into the look of one about to burst into tears. "You – you – you h-have blood on your h-hands," she choked out, her brown eyes wide with horror.
Ginny looked down. She did indeed have crimson still smeared across her fingers. "Sorry," she said hastily, and siphoned it off with her wand. She looked back up at the first-year. "And I'm sorry that I shouted at you back there… are you okay?" she asked gently. "What's your name? I'm Ginny Peregrine."
The first-year trembled, but gave a shaky nod. "M-m-my name's A-Amalia Boyka," she said quietly.
"Really? You've got a very pretty name," Ginny said with a smile. "It suits you."
Amalia didn't reply, but the objective was achieved: a faint tinge of pink emerged on her pale cheeks, and her lips curved into a tiny smile. Then she yawned, and said, "Thanks, Misses. I'm going to go to sleep now." She clambered down from Eleanor's lap and padded around to the bed, before getting in and pulling the covers up to her chin.
"We'll be right here if you need us," Ginny promised; Eleanor gave the little girl another hug, and then they left. Before the Head Girl drew the curtains, she picked up a pile of blood-stained clothes and stockings that Amalia had obviously shed.
For a few seconds Eleanor was silent. Then she said quietly, "I want to thank you, Ginny."
"For what?" asked Ginny, bewildered. "If this is about sticking up for you in The Three Broomsticks, then just forget about that, because I already-"
"No." Eleanor held up her hand, just like Dippet had done. "It's not that. It's…" she took a deep breath "Riddle."
Ginny blinked.
Huh?
"Wait… what do you mean?" Ginny asked, still confused.
Eleanor bit her lower lip. "Well, it's just… he's been here seven years – just like me. But… unlike me – I just," she looked distinctly uncomfortable, "I don't think he's ever had a friend before. Or even just someone who cares for him."
"I-I-" Ginny stammered, feeling her face heat up.
"Ginny," said Eleanor, her voice all don't try to lie to me and slightly patronizing, "I doubt there's a single person in all of Hogwarts – except perhaps him – who didn't see you scream, run through blood, mangled bodies, and – no less – a cursed barrier to get to him."
The Prefect lowered her head. Her cheeks were hot enough to fry eggs.
"If that's not caring for him, then what the hell is?" Eleanor asked quietly with a slight laugh.
Ginny didn't reply. She considered saying 'I don't' in defence, as usual, but it had just dawned on her that saying that wouldn't be true.
"As you may or not have noticed… well. Despite the whole get-the-hell-away-from-me attitude, you can't deny that he's good-looking," Eleanor added. "I mean, honestly? I don't think that there is a single student over fourth-year who hasn't, at some point, fancied him."
And why are we discussing this, remind me?
"Hell, I did." Eleanor blushed. "It's just… so many people have tried to get through to him, you know, thinking that someone so handsome was probably just misunderstood and in need of a hug. I think that you're the only person ever who's gotten anywhere close to succeeding."
"Mm," said Ginny, aware that she had been quiet for too long and needed to reply. She gave a non-committal shrug of her shoulders and for quite a while there was an awkward hush.
"Well, I'm going to go and see Dippet. Things need sorting out, you know, so… bye," Eleanor gave Ginny a quick hug, and then departed.
Yawning, Ginny realised that she was extremely tired, and she walked over a vacant bed near the one that was occupied by Amalia Boyka. Sitting heavily on it, she peeled off her blood-stained outer robes and kicked off her shoes. She lay down, but, despite her weariness, didn't feel like going to sleep. She looked at the ceiling, thinking about Professor Vander's fate, and also about the fate of –
She averted her eyes from the ceiling and looked across the room at the thin gauze curtains surrounding the bed in the corner.
Madam Royce had left along time ago – she'd gone to private room in the back to work on Professor Vander for a post-mortem.
Ginny sat up, still eyeing the curtains. Unsure, she hovered between indecision, before tucking her wand into her waistband – just incase – and getting up. She tiptoed across the room and then paused before the wispy drapes.
Just go back to bed, Ginny. Just go back to bed.
She pushed the curtains aside and stepped quietly through.
Riddle hadn't coloured any more from his chalky complexion. He was still smudged with blood and his clothes were filthy. He seemed to be either sleeping or unconscious; Ginny thought immediately of her thinking about him sleeping, and how she'd never seen him slumber.
Be careful what you wish for.
He was curled up into a ball – the most un-Riddle position she could imagine – with one hand clenching the blankets unconsciously and the other hidden beneath them. His dark tresses looked like the hair equivalent of a Muggle atomic bomb, and little of his face was visible.
Ginny stepped closer, and then crouched down beside the bed. She rested her elbows on the mattress and peered up at where his face was, hidden behind the messy hair. For reasons unknown, she had an inexplicable urge to see his face, and slowly, hesitantly, she stretched out a hand. Her hand floated in uncertainty near his head, and then as she gently brushed the dark waves out of his face she got a shock.
His eyes were open.
She shrieked.
"Hell, Riddle, you scared me!" she gasped, clutching at her heart. "I didn't expect you to be awake," she said, and a blush rose on her cheeks as she silently finished the sentence with: when I was trying to sweep your hair out of your eyes so that I could see your face.
"I… I didn't… expect you to… visit… but I didn't… scream…" Riddle said quietly, his voice unusually subdued, with a pause between each word, as though speaking was difficult. He gave a tiny sigh, like a very small child, and allowed his dark eyes to flutter closed.
A small smile cracked Ginny's features. She merely watched him for a few seconds, and then she tore her gaze away; looking towards the floor, biting her lip. She looked back up at him, and asked softly, "Are you okay?"
A pause. "…no."
She worried her lower lip again with her teeth, before probing further, "Will you be?"
The answer was barely audible: "…yes."
A relieved sigh tugged from Ginny's lips. She didn't really know what to do. She wasn't much of a nurse. Hermione would have hugging him and comforting him, and somehow knowing exactly what to say to make him feel better.
I always wondered how she did that.
What could make the future Dark Lord, evil-in-training, Tom Riddle… feel better?
"Hey, dude! Wanna kill me?"
That'll brighten his day.
Utterly at a loss, Ginny settled for asking, "Is there anything I can help you with… anything I can get you?"
Riddle twitched his head; it barely moved, but Ginny knew that it was an attempt at a 'no' gesture.
She cleared her throat. "Um. I'll just – um – go, then, I suppose," she said, trying to sound cheery, as though he wasn't bedridden, cursed and probably dying, and as though a Professor hadn't just been murdered at, allegedly, his hand. She stood-
"No…" Riddle's eyes opened the smallest amount; just enough to see dark, weary eyes through long eyelashes. "Just… stay…"
Ginny's heart swelled with pity. "Okay," she whispered, and drew up a chair to his bedside; crouching had hurt her feet like hell. She sat on it and quietly looked at Riddle. She had no idea what to do, or even say. A thousand questions plagued her mind like a swarm of bees, and she let these occupy her mind and fill the silence, trying to work out a dozen puzzles with so many missing pieces that the end picture resembled nothing but space.
xxx
A/N: Aw. How sad. Thanks to my beta SilvanXan. Please review, it makes my day.
Remngo: Thanks! I'll make sure that doesn't happen, don't worry.
Josephine Sawyer: Yes, you're right, and thanks!
ricekrispies: Aw, sorry. I actually didn't get it confiscated. Haha. Lol. Thank you!
Asta-Amkis: Dude, fish are FREAKY! They have weird eyes and weird scales and ew. I just don't like them. Live ones are okay, but I HATE dead ones, and their eyes seriously scare me. Don't worry… he's not dead; just mortally wounded. :D I'm trying to find a place to fit Asta or Amkis in here somewhere. If I can't, I'll put it in the next fic I'm planning, which is another T/G time-travel fic (Evil!Tom instead of Lonely!Tom, though). Thank you!
Hydra27: DAMN that was a brilliant review! I love you! And I love caffeine! WOW! –high five- A fear of clowns and dolls? Yeah, some dolls are creepy (like Chuckie… -shiver-), and everyone hates clowns. They scare me so much. And yes, I have a morbid fear of death, as well as an unexplained dislike for fish. I was worried that I was making Ginny too Gryffindor-y. Thank you so much for all the lovely things you reviewed with!
XevenOf9: Interesting theory. I'm not going to make any comment on right or wrong, though.
Storm-brain: Vander? Yes. He was cut to pieces and horribly mangled. Tom? No. He was cursed and had his arm slashed.
chimis: Hehe. I love you too.
peacegirl: Ooh, thanks!
Saene: I've always wanted a cat. They're sort of cute. Whereas my entire family are more of dog-people, so instead we've had five dogs (not all at the same time, lol). Ooh, I LOVE shiny things. I found an empty Tic Tac box today, and I was obsessed with clicking it open and closed like a mouth and making it talk to people for ages but then my Music teacher was like: "what are you doing?" so I stopped. Hehe.
DeadlyCreative: But… the thing is… does he?
00jade: Thank you! Yeah, my brain did that once. I hate it when it does that.
SiRiUsLyInLuV: ARGH! –hides- Don't hurt me. I updated… -cry-
crazedreader: Thanks!
blonde-gym-chick: Aw, thank you!
Amberdream7: I like your pen-name. And as for what happened, we'll find out later. But the basic summary is that Professor Vander (the Charms teacher who I introduced a few chapters ago) was sort of mutilated and murdered, and Tom was cursed.
Leah: Yeaup, you're right! You won't find out what happened for a while, sorry. Thanks!
ShhImNotMVP: Thanks!
creative-writing-girl13: Haha. Someone's getting stressy.
audrhole: Lol. I mentioned him a lot. He's the Charms Professor. Thank you!
Faye8222: Thanks, lol!
SwirlyL: Haha, I laughed when I read about your friend stabbing her fish with a pencil. And actually the dead people are called Inferi, lol, not Furies.
Pixar: Don't worry… I won't… I hate fish. YAY! Hating Fish Buddies! –high five-
kyraThePoop: Ah! Cheater! –scowl- Nah, I still love you. Thanks for the review!
The-Quoi: Haha, I LOVE Monty Python. The evil rabbit is so cute. And then IT DEVOURS THEM ALIVE!! Bwahahaha. "But she is a witch! She turned me into a newt! (insert blank stares from everyone else) … I got better." Haha.
BDSanta2001: See, the great thing about this kind of mystery is that it could be ANYONE! And trust me when I say its going to be the person who you least expect… Yay! Two reviews.
X-XsiobhanX-X: Fish freak me out. –glare- Thanks!
Xxx