A/N: Sorry it's late. LOTS OF FLUFFINESS! SO MUCH FLUFFIENESS THAT YOUR EYES WILL BURN! AH!
Note: This chapter is much improved if your listening to slow but happy music, or just any slow music. E.g. Hey Now, Hey Now by Crowded House, or You And Me by Lifehouse is especially good.
Disclaimer: Get the idea into your head. I don't own it. Now move on.
The Letter P
Chapter Thirty-Nine: P is for Poignant
"Who is it?" Grace demanded, putting her hands on her hips. "I haven't seen you this nervous since you wanted to look your best for that Hogsmeade trip because you had overheard that Scott had accidentally reserved the table next to the one that we had. And then," she continued, as the story wasn't already long enough, "he didn't even show up!" she flickered her blue eyes over Ginny's face. "Who is it?"
"I. Do. Not. Fancy. Anyone."
"Suit yourself," Grace shrugged. "Don't expect me to drop this, though."
xxx
Ginny and Grace ascended the steps to the Slytherin common room. Only a few people were still there. There, in one corner was Ramira and Avani, Claude's friends. Claude wasn't with them, so Ginny presumed that the curly-haired blonde was still primping herself to perfection.
Ramira came over to the two of them. "Don't tell Claude I said this," she whispered, "'cos she'll be, like, madsville. But... well, considering that I don't think you've brushed your hair, like, once since you arrived… you clean up really well."
The redhead blinked. A compliment? From Claude's friend?
"Um. Thanks," she said, smiling despite her bewilderment.
I can't look that bad if they think I look nice.
Still unsure if it was a prank or not, Ginny smiled again at Ramira, and then departed with Grace.
Despite telling herself firmly that she wasn't going to care about her appearance tonight, Ginny couldn't help but glance at her reflection in a passing window. She gasped audibly. She had wanted to look like a princess… and she looked more like one that she could imagine. Her hair was positively glowing, and the merlot-coloured dress she had chosen looked incredible.
Grinning happily, she skipped to the Room of Requirements.
"Wait out here," said Grace. "I have a special job to do."
"What-?" Ginny started, but Grace had already disappeared through the doors. The redhead looked around. The other Prefects were outside as well. "Why are we out here?" she asked Antonia, who looked dazzling in sunshine-yellow robes.
"Oh. A bright idea of Eleanor's," Antonia rolled her eyes.
Ginny frowned. She opened her mouth to ask what the 'bright idea' was, but at that moment the question was answered for her.
From inside came a deafening whistle. "HEY!"
Ginny groaned. It was Grace.
"Everyone, please welcome and applaud… the people who made this Ball happen! Amelia Brown, Gareth Coville, Antonia-May Durrell, Ginevra Peregrine, and Scott Reeve!"
Just before the doors swung open, Ginny turned to Antonia, eyes wide, and mouthed, "Antonia-May?"
Then the doors opened, and the applause began, and Ginny flushed bright red to see that some wonderfully clever person (who she would see to was strangled later) had installed flowing marble stairs to make that fabulous entrance.
Feeling her face heat up violently, Ginny descended, holding her skirt out in one hand. The room looked incredible. Thick, powdery snow had been laid out evenly across the floor, and the very air seemed to glitter with magic. However, Ginny wasn't interested in the room; she'd created it. She scanned the crowd, and, then, in the corner, rested on someone who she hadn't expected to see.
Riddle was dressed in, not black and grey, as she had expected, but, surprisingly, black and a very attractive shade of green (okay, I so didn't just think that). Admittedly, no, it was hardly bright and festive, but it worked. And there was a look on his face that Ginny had never seen. It was the kind of look that most people got when they weren't really paying attention – mouth slightly open, head slightly tilted forwards – but Ginny knew that for Riddle, Mr. Emotionless, it was an appearance of being totally and utterly shocked.
Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
At the bottom of the stairs, Ginny curtsied with the applause, and then made her way to find Riddle. However, someone grabbed her elbow. She turned to see who it was and found herself face-to-face with Abraxas Malfoy.
"Hi," she said dully.
"May I have this dance?" he inquired, offering a hand.
"The music hasn't even started yet," Ginny pointed out.
As if on cue, the band, The Explosive Cauldrons, began to play.
"Er. Okay." Ginny shrugged, and placed her hand in his. The platinum-blonde grasped her fingers and pulled her close to him. "Try a move like last time," she warned him fiercely, "and you'll be jinxed into next week."
Smirking, Abraxas placed a hand at the small of her back and started to twirl her around very rapidly. Within the first three seconds she stumbled and nearly fell flat onto him.
"Not so fast!" she gasped, twisting her ankle painfully as she tripped on her wine-coloured skirt.
"But it's a fast song," protested Abraxas, a smug smirk on his face that Ginny didn't like at all. He spun her in a broad circle, so broad that she was almost hitting some dancing seventh-ears, and then twirled her back into him so swiftly that she collided with his chest. "Oh, hello," he leered.
"Malfoy," Ginny growled. "I will continue to dance with you on one condition…"
"What's that…?"
"My face is up here!" she snapped.
"Sorry, doll," smirked Malfoy. "Couldn't resist. They're just too-"
He didn't complete his sentence as Ginny's knee promptly became acquaintanced with his manhood.
With one last look of disdain, Ginny turned her back on him and marched away into the crowd. She grinned at Eleanor dancing like an idiot with a crowd of her equally giddy friends, and then continued on her way, weaving easily through the bustling bodies on her way to the left corner where she had last seen:
"Riddle!" she said happily, smiling enthusiastically at him.
"Oh. Hello, Peregrine," he said. He cleared his throat and stared rather intently into the glass of wine he held.
"You look really good," Ginny blurted out. She coloured madly, but grinned to make up for it, as though she wasn't bothered about what she'd just said. "How 'bout me?" she spun in a circle, so that the skirt of her dress, the colour of darkest wine, could flurry out to its full extent. She then narrowed her hazel eyes at Riddle. "And if you say, 'like a beaver' then I'm going to kill you."
Riddle's lips twisted into a smirk and he looked up to meet her eyes. "Thank you, and for your information, I wasn't going to say that you look like a beaver," he said wryly. "I was going to say-"
He suddenly cut himself off. Again the tinge of pink was visible, high on his hollowed cheeks; he swallowed hard and returned his dark eyes to the wine in his glass.
"Well?" Ginny asked, rather worriedly.
Do I look that bad?
"You… you look lovely," muttered Riddle, not looking up from his wine.
However, Ginny knew that this wasn't what he had been about to say, and felt a sinking sensation in her heart. "Thanks," she said brightly, but her smile was fake.
There was an awkward hush between them as a slow song started.
"Um," said Ginny, glancing up at Riddle. "D'you… d'you know how to dance?"
"No," replied Riddle smoothly, sipping his wine as opposed to merely staring at it.
Ginny sighed. "Well, that makes two of us," she admitted.
Silence.
It wasn't truly silence, for the soft, melodic ballad that rang through the room.
"Are you going to ask me to dance or not?" Ginny asked crossly, folding her arms and scowling at Riddle.
"Probably not," Riddle said coolly. "You can't dance, and I know for a fact that I can't, so what, I ask you, is the point?"
Ginny's brow furrowed into a glare. She didn't know what the point was. Everything about her life was too confusing and strange. "Fine," she bit out. Then, just as she had with Malfoy (minus, of course, kneeing him in the groin), she turned her back on him sharply and walked away.
Halfway towards totally disappearing into the crowd, she heard, "Would you like to dance with me?"
"No," Ginny replied snappishly over her shoulder. "What's the point?"
"Peregrine, get back here."
"No! I don't have to do anything you say."
There was a pause. Then, just before she vanished from his view:
"Ginevra-"
What?
Ginny stopped dead. She turned around, her red curls whipping sideways over her shoulder, a curious expression on her face.
"Aha. Triumphant," said Riddle smoothly, setting his wine-glass down and making his way towards her.
"Where did that come from?" Ginny asked.
"Where did what come from?" Riddle inquired, avoiding the question easily.
"Ginevra."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that it was your name," Riddle said dryly, raising one eyebrow.
Ginny reddened. "It is," she said. "It's just… I never thought I'd hear you say it. And normally people call me Ginny. I haven't heard that name in… a long time."
"Pull your dress lower, Ginevra. It's ridiculously short," snapped Ginny's great-aunt Muriel at Fleur's wedding.
"I'll have you know that, at any given point in the foreseeable future, I refuse to refer to you as… Ginny," Riddle's lip curled. "I mean this in no offence to you when I say that it is probably the most irritating nickname I have had the misfortune to hear."
"Having an argument of who knows the most irritating nickname?" Ginny snorted. "I can top that. Wait for it – Tom."
"Why don't we put this delightfully interesting conversation starter on hold, and instead assume that, to my offer of a dance, you have said yes," Riddle said formally, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.
He extended a hand.
Ginny took it.
Side-by-side, Riddle walked her out a few feet onto the dance-floor – enough so that they were on it, but not at the center of attention. Then they turned to each other.
A half-smile quirked the corners of Riddle's lips as he shifted his hand awkwardly into the proper position for holding hers, and then after a moment of hesitation, placed his other hand on Ginny's hip.
A warmth rapidly spread through Ginny, only visible on her glowing cheeks, though she was certain that she was nearly on fire; a burning sensation that might have come from the feel of Riddle's hand on her waist.
But it was probably just the faulty heating.
She slid her spare hand around his neck, and then, avoiding his eyes, started the clumsy attempt at a slow waltz whilst not breaking all of Riddle's toes.
Preferably breaking none of his toes, Ginny thought to herself. But that's very unlikely. I'll just keep my hopes up for not breaking them all.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up into his face. Time seemed to freeze with the snow that they stood in, and in her strange dancing tranquillity, everything else was tuned out – like how she didn't step on Riddle's feet once. Like how people were staring, whispering, and giggling, "Look at how short she is compared to him!"
All that existed was the poignant, smooth, tuneful ballad that rang like fairy bells; their soft, shallow breathing; that one dark wave of hair that had come separate from the rest and was curling into his eyes; the slightly dark, but comforting smell of sandalwood and ink; the rustling of Ginny's wide merlot skirt against the snow-
"I'm sorry," she said softly, interrupting the serenity and the total peace that she'd just blindly accepted. It was at that moment that she trod on his foot.
Riddle frowned – seemingly oblivious to having his foot stood on. "For what?"
The red-haired Prefect bit her lip. "For… Hogsmeade."
For a few seconds there was a silence. Then Riddle said tensely, "Oh."
"I really am, and I'm also sorry for bringing it up because it's basically spoiled our dance." Ginny said all of this very quickly.
Drawing in a deep sigh, Riddle shook his head; barely moving his head from side to side. "It's fine," he said quietly.
Suddenly wolf-whistles erupted.
Ginny looked over and saw Grace and Alden, also dancing to the slow waltz – however, unlike them, she and Riddle were not locked lips as though there was no tomorrow. "GET A ROOM!" she shouted, though grinning proudly. Her match-making had worked.
She looked back to Riddle. He was staring at her incredulously.
"What?" she asked self-consciously.
"I thought that was your boyfriend," he said.
"Oh. Yeah. Good point." She withdrew her left hand from Riddle's neck, and, still holding his right, turned to face the crowd and bellowed, "ALDEN!"
The two Slytherins kissing broke apart. A guilty red flooded Grace's face and neck; Alden looked extremely ashamed of himself. "Yeah?" he called in reply.
"YOU'RE DUMPED!" Ginny yelled back.
Alden looked at her in bemusement as he worked everything out in his head. Then he grinned and returned to snogging a delighted Grace.
Ginny swivelled back to face Riddle. "Now," she said, "where were we?"
For the second time in probably his whole life, Riddle's hard, smooth, emotionless features broke into a smile. And this time, he kept smiling. "I believe," he said softly, "it was something along the lines of this." Then, with those words, he replaced his hand upon Ginny's waist, and Ginny's hand at his neck, and together, both smiling still, they danced into the night.
xxx
A/N: Awww. –swoon- Review or I'll never post again! Bwahaha. Thanks to my beta SilvanXan.
xxx
exohexohex: Yay! Oh, right, I get it now. And no, that smirking part comes later. Teehee. Because she got the visions in the correct order, so she's got to do other things first. But I'll point out that one of the visions was: a dress the colour of wine. Which is what she's wearing to the Yule Ball.
Kriz: Yeah, sorry, it was a little boring. Oh well, I'm glad you liked it, and I hope the Ball chapter lived up to your expectations.
Courtney P.: Wow. Thank you so much!
XxRandomHeartxX: Haha! Sorry. I wasn't supposed to laugh, was I? My bad. Oh well, feel better soon. Thanks!
Kallie: Ooh, thank you!
KayRose: Indeed she is… :D
Saene: Oh, yeah, same. I'm not scared of heights – I'm scaring of falling and splatting and dying. I'm not scared of water – I'm scared of drowning. I'm not scared of vicious animals – I'm scared of being mauled. I'm not scared of freaky dolls and dead people – I'm scared of being possessed and then killed once my body has fulfilled whatever purpose they wanted. Hence the thatanophobia. –shrug- Rebelliousness and craziness? How about Ginny and Luna for characters?
Ricekrispies: Nope. Sorry. Too cliché. I'm avoiding as many clichés as possible. Wasn't that fluffy enough for you?
The-Quoi: It was already said in her vision that she was going to be wearing a dress the colour of wine. Haha. Your review made me laugh. Thanks, your reviews always give me something to chuckle about.
Bewitching: Thanks! By the way, I love your pen-name.
SiRiUsLyInLuV71: No, sorry. It's hard enough for me to post regularly anyway, because I have exams coming up, and my CCF Training (that's like army), as well as athletics practice. And whenever I post a new chapter I have to spend ages typing review replies. Not that I'm complaining. It's fun. But it takes a while. I hope you liked the chapter!
creative-writing-girl13: Did you like Tom's reaction, then?
BDSanta2001: Oh, I used to love The Jetsons. I haven't seen that Hair-In-A-Box thing. It'd be really cool, though. No more bad hair days!
Asta-Amkis: Sorry. No mistletoe. I said they'd kiss in chapter forty-six, and not a moment before. So ha! Thanks! YAY! Snarky sarcastic children!
kyraThePoop: Well. That made no sense. But thank you! LOL.
00jade: Not the teddy bear! I love teddy bears. I have hundreds of them. No kiss though. Sorry.
xxx
Apparently, toothpaste gets rid of spots. I now have Oral B smeared all across my face. All it seems to be doing is making my cheeks stiff and giving off fumes.