A/N: Five hundred reviews! OMG! Wow! –happy dance- Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it, because that was my second favourite chapter that I've written so far. I hope you enjoy this one, too. It's not such a fluff-overload, because it's back to reality, what with school and everything. But it's quite funny.
Disclaimer: Get the idea into your head. I don't own it. Now move on.
The Letter P
Chapter Forty-One: P is for Plushie
Ginevra returned her gaze to Tom shyly. "Now," she smiled. "Where were we?"
For what was the first time in a long time, Tom completely dropped his shield and smiled. Only for her. "I believe," he murmured, "it was something along the lines of this." He held onto Ginevra's hand; rested his other hand on her waist. She slid her hand around the back of his neck. And they returned to the music, dancing in a place that time forgot and that only they could see.
xxx
"Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock!" sang a very high-pitched voice far too early in the morning.
"Graaace… shu'up…" Ginny moaned, turning over and burying her face in her pillow.
"But it's Christmas!"
The magic word had been spoken.
Ginny sat bolt upright, grinning. She scrambled to the end of her bed and shrieked gleefully when she saw the pile of presents. There was a present from Grace; Alden; Flora; Scott (she set it on fire); Malfoy (she threw it out of the window); Eleanor; Antonia Durrell… there were far more than she had received on her birthday. There was also a package from Dippet.
"Aren't you going to open them?" said Grace excitedly.
The word 'yes' nearly burst out her mouth, but it wasn't the right answer. "No, sorry," she apologized. "I'll open them after breakfast."
"What?" Grace gasped as the redhead began to grab her clothes. "Where could you possibly want to go in favour of presents?!"
The Prefect grimaced. "I'll open them with you after breakfast, okay?" she babbled, pulling on a grey jumper. Then she snatched up two large bundles, and ran out of the door.
Please don't let him have already gone down to breakfast…
Having sprinted up three floors, Ginny was exhausted by the time she skidded to a halt in front of Robin the Rich. "Top o' the mornin' to ye," she giggled, sweeping into a ridiculously low bow. "Condolesam."
The portly man in the painting huffed, but let her in. Hoping desperately that Eleanor wasn't in the main room (she wasn't) she darted through the sofas, vaulted over a small plant, and up the stairs to Riddle's room.
Now praying with all of her life that Riddle didn't abruptly open the door before he was supposed to, Ginny unwrapped the first bundle – the scarlet and slightly furry one.
Once finished, she picked up the second bundle, and knocked heavily on the door.
"Go away, Fionn, I'm busy," sounded from inside.
You're cheerful on Christmas morning, aren't you?
She knocked harder.
"Fionn, go away."
Grinning at the irritation he would come out with before seeing that it wasn't Eleanor, Ginny knocked one final time.
There was the sound of someone pushing back a chair and storming across the room. Then the door was flung open. "I – am – busy -" Riddle snapped, and then stopped dead as he came to a sight that he had not expected.
The sight of a very small, and very stupid-looking Father Christmas, beaming like a maniac. "Merry Christmas!" Ginny chirped happily, pushing the rim of her furry hat up to stop it from falling over her eyes (it was three sizes to big. She'd stolen it from a statue in Madam Puddifoots').
Riddle was stunned into silence. Then, he said incredulously, "Peregrine?"
"I'm not Ginny Peregrine – or even Ginevra Peregrine!" Ginny said in a stupidly deep voice. "I am Father Christmas!" She held out the second package; something quite large, oddly-shaped, and wrapped in sunshine-yellow paper decorated with smiley faces.
Riddle raised one eyebrow. "I see," he said. "And may I inquire as to why you are outside my bedroom at-" he glanced behind him, probably at a clock "-six-thirty in the morning, dressed as such?"
"Because I have your present!" Ginny exclaimed, a slightly duh tone to her voice.
Slowly, Riddle's eyebrows furrowed. "My… my present?" he echoed softly.
"Mm-hm!" Ginny thrust the yellow package at him, perhaps a little more forcefully than was necessary; it crashed into his chest, and he raised his hand to take it from its position against the front of his dark robes.
"Peregrine, I-"
"Father Christmas!" she corrected fiercely.
With a weary, bemused expression in his dark eyes, Riddle amended, "Father Christmas, then. I… I don't understand why you got me something." The last few words were very quiet.
Ginny's heart sunk. Of course. Riddle had never had a Christmas present before. He'd never been given anything. He didn't really understand the whole concept of Christmas.
"It's Christmas," Ginny said simply. "At Christmas, you give presents to your friends. And, as a friend, I believe that you qualify."
Riddle stared at the yellow packaging, as though he still couldn't believe that he had a gift.
Pity surged through Ginny. Seventeen years before he gets his first Christmas present.
"I – Peregrine-"
"Father Christmas!"
Riddle huffed out a short breath, fixing his eyes on the ceiling briefly in a God help me – make her shut up expression. Then, after a pause, he said, "Thank you."
"Just open it!" said Ginny, grinning.
"Yes, yes." Riddle fiddled awkwardly with the wrapping for a few seconds before shelling it, and into his hands fell…
A beaver.
It was rather big for a stuffed toy, and fluffy. It was also hideously adorable for a gift received by the Heir of Slytherin – complete with massive brown eyes and plush buck-teeth. It wore a red furry Christmas hat.
Riddle stared at it for quite a while. Then he said dubiously, poking it with one finger as if to check that his eyes hadn't deceived him, "You got me a beaver?"
"Yup – check under the hat!"
Suspicious, the Head Boy lifted the furry hat and found a piece of folded paper. After unfolding it several times, he saw the words scribed there:
Merry Christmas, Tom!
Remember to shave. Tsk tsk.
Love,
Gin(evra)ny xxx
A smirk made itself present upon Riddle's unusually tired face. "Who, may I inquire, is Ginevrany?" he said dryly.
Ginny scowled. "Me, you idiot." She hesitated, before bravely plunging forward with, "Did you get me anything?" Then she regretted it. If he hadn't, then he'd feel really guilty.
No – bad – oh, so bad…!
"Oh." Riddle scratched his head, mussing his tidily combed hair. "No, I haven't. However," he said slowly, frowning deeply as though trying to remember something. "However, I think there's something – yes, hang on."
He turned and disappeared through the door.
Uncertainly hovering by the door, Ginny wondered if she was supposed to wait outside. "Er," she said, loudly, so he could hear her, "can I come in?"
There was a silence from within.
Back-track, back-track!
"I'll just wait out here," Ginny hastily said, feeling her cheeks began to flame from the obvious rejection.
Damn me for being a redhead, Ginny cursed, fanning at her face, trying to cool herself down.
"No – you can come in," said Riddle hesitantly from inside. "Just… just bear in mind that no-one's been in here before."
Ginny grinned. "Are you trying to warn me that it'll be messy-" she teased, but stopped when she slipped through the door.
It was tidy; scrupulously tidy. Everything was neatly in place. It was an unbelievable contrast with Ginny's own room (schoolbooks thrown haphazardly across the floor, bed unmade, socks scattered here and there, and the land of the dead and forgotten underneath her bed). The furnishings – everything from the stiff-backed armchair to the curtains at the slightly open window – were not black, as expected, but the same striking dark green that Riddle had worn to the Yule Ball. The walls were lined with bookcases, nowhere near filled; only a few shelves were occupied with fat, dusty volumes, and then, in addition, very grubby schoolbooks. And there, partly concealed in an alcove behind another dark curtain, was that...?
"Is that a guitar?" Ginny asked, staring at the curve of something pale and wooden.
Riddle glanced across to follow her gaze. "It was the last time I checked," he said distractedly as he rifled through drawers, seeming indifferent to her seeing it – though again the faint colouring high on his cheeks appeared, and he did twitch his wand from on his desk, sending the curtain swooshing sideways and hiding the guitar completely.
"Hm." Ginny tilted her head. "Didn't see you as the musical type."
This was an understatement.
Her mind was shrieking, he has a guitar? The future Dark Lord isn't supposed to be musical and artistic! Get it right!
"Well," said Riddle offhandedly, as he closed the first drawer and opened the next, "I didn't see you as the type to give people-" (he glanced up at the plushie, now seated on his desk) "- vastly over-sized beavers. And," he added cynically, searching the next drawer of his immaculate desk, "if I may ask, what type did you see me as?"
Ginny shrugged. She crossed the room and perched on the edge of his rigid-backed armchair, removing her too-big hat and crumpling it in her hands. "I dunno," she said, "the voodoo-doll type. The collector-of-shiny-knives-and-torture-implements type."
Riddle paused in his searching to send her a withering look over his shoulder. "Very funny," he said dryly.
It wasn't a joke.
Grimacing once his back was turned, Ginny continued to survey the room. "You know," Ginny said worriedly, as she heard a quiet 'damn' from Riddle, "you honestly don't have to get me anything."
"Aha." Riddle straightened. His back still turned to the Prefect in his armchair, he rubbed something against the front of his robes; then he moved towards her.
Ginny sat upright.
"Merry… Merry Christmas," said Riddle tentatively, holding out his hand, and revealing, glittering at the end of his thin fingers, an irregularly-shaped pale green rock.
The Prefect flickered her gaze up to Riddle's face. He was watching her, that microscan look of trying to stare into her soul. Then Ginny took it, and immediately Riddle turned, walked away, as though he couldn't be bothered to see what she thought of it. She held it up; light poured through it, casting a soft green glow on her face.
"It's beautiful. Is it peridot?" inquired Ginny, twisting it this way and that.
Riddle ceased his pacing – his back still turned to Ginny, he said indifferently, "Probably not."
Ginny thought that this was all he was going to say about it.
However, he continued, "I live – lived…" A pause. "-near a series of coastal cliffs. I found it at the bottom of one of the cliffs when I was ten."
"Oh, it's lovely – thank you," said Ginny happily. She pocketed it, and grinned up at him. Then, recalling something, she said, "Well, I remember distinctly you saying you were busy, so…" she waved. "I'll see you later." She stood, and headed towards the mahogany door.
"Peregrine?"
Ginny turned her face towards him.
"Prefect meeting tomorrow, after breakfast," said Riddle. "And thank you." He lifted up the beaver, a bemused, weary smirk curving his lips.
A smile twisting her own, Ginny dug in her pocket and held up the pale green stone. "Same to you."
As she descended the steps from his bedroom, pulling off the ridiculous Father Christmas outfit, she realised that she now had three close friends in 1958. Riddle was, admittedly, a slightly unpredictable wild card of a friend… but a friend all the same.
And this made her the most worried that she'd felt in a very long time.
xxx
A/N: Oh, diddums. Did you like their presents? Please review! Thanks to my beta SilvanXan.
xxx
AppleC0re: Yeah, he was going to say, "For your information, I wasn't going to say that you look like a beaver. I was going to say that you're probably the most beautiful person I've ever seen," but he cut himself short because he panicked.
Kallie: Thanks! Well, it could have started with a P, but I wanted to say that it was optional. It was a pretty pointless chapter, actually. It didn't show us anything new. Except maybe that Tom's starting to fall in- oops! Didn't say anything. Hehe.
00jade: I love slides. My friend got stuck in one once, and she had massive bruises all on her leg. Thank you!
Creative-writing-girl13: Thanks!
The-Quoi: I liked the Safety Dance PM you sent me! Squeeing is fun. Actually, I was considering making that happen! But I decided that it would be way too embarrassing for both of them, and too funny, and I wanted the chapter to be really sweet and serious.
NamineFlower: Um. Wow. Thank you! Yeah, it seriously does work! Try it!
Artemisia Gentileschi: Can I call you something else? Your pen-name is sort of hard to write. I'm just going to call you Art from now on. Sorry. Thanks for the review!
kyraThePoop: I did that! I changed the names of me, my school, and everyone I knew, and I wrote a story about myself, like a diary. And my band with my friends became famous and we toured the world and I had a fairytale romance and ahhh… So lovely. But not true.
SerenityKaitlyn: It is a bit weird, but it works.
SiRiUsLyInLuV71: Fine, don't give me any praise! –huff- And I have to warn you that the kiss won't be what you expect. Not in the slightest.
chimis: Tom is sweet? Why haven't you realised?
Saene: Ah. I see. Good old gang-mentality. Well, I hope you like the rest of the fic. Which should help you feel better. –grin-
Eliseyweesey: Inhale a fanfic? I didn't know that you could do that. Hm. Should try it sometime. Well, thank you, and I hope you enjoy what's coming up? Gin 'n' Tonic? I like it. Did you come up with that phrase?
Loving It!: Thanks!
BDSanta2001: ARGH! NOT MILEY CYRPUS! No offence. I just don't go for her music. I like rock. And indie. And classics, like David Bowie and Britney Spears. Haha. I hate when step-family do that. Well. I don't have a step-sister. But I have a step-cousin-to-be (my aunt's boyfriend's daughter), and she's pretty annoying. Snootchy-bootchies indeed.
audrhole: Er, no. My friend told me. Lol! Thanks!
KayRose: One day very soon… -manic giggle-
Eternal Passion: Oh, thanks. I wasn't sure if I made Tom… well, if I made him Tom-ish enough. Lmao.
XevenOf9: I made you cry? Wow. I feel really honoured. I know, it's so sweet, isn't it? Aw.
o00bubbles00o: Seriously? You read that? For Those Of Us was crap! I can not believe you actually read it. Thank you so much!
Fic-princess: Thank you!
MadeNew: WOW. That is a big compliment. Because I had read some damn good fanfics (The Lost Moments, Have You Ever, The Sweetest Revenge etc.). Anywho, thanks!
XxRandomHeartxX: I know, Tom's just so lovely! Mehhh. –huggles him to death- Tom: -gag- Ahh… help… me… LOL. Anyway. Thanks so much for the reviews… I like your sleep deprivation. You send nice reviews when you're deprived of sleep… STOP SLEEPING! Bwahaha.
Xxx
Had a cool idea. Watch this…
NEXT TIME:
"No!" she cried as the beefy, and totally irrational blonde Slytherin wrenched himself out of his chair and stormed across to the stairs.
Salty water blurring her vision, Ginny ran down the corridor, stumbling blindly over her own feet more than once, before darting into the nearest empty classroom and slamming the door behind her.
"I'm sorry!" she shouted at him. "I'm sorry for your stupid embarrassment! I'm sorry for destroying your stupid reputation! And I'm SORRY for caring enough to get you a sodding Christmas present!"
xxx
DUN DUN DUNNNN….