A/N: Hi! Wow, sorry it took me so long. Guess what… laptop, confiscated. I won't be updating much this week because I have my SATs, sorreee. And also, I won't be putting up review replies today because I just want to get this chapter out.
However, I'd like to respond to one person by saying: actually, I haven't totally forgotten the plot. This is the plot. Like it or lump it.
Disclaimer: Get the idea into your head. I don't own it. Now move on.
The Letter P
Chapter Forty-Four: P is for Ponytails For Effect
"The voice - it – it was low, and gravely, and I heard it before, just after Professor Vander was attacked – and I followed it, and it lead to Riddle's bed, where he was staying in the Hospital Wing – but he was gone. I thought I'd imagined it. Then, during Auld Lang Syne, just now, I heard it! And I followed it again, and it lead to Riddle! To his bedroom – but his bedroom was vandalised, it was really messy – and there was blood – there was blood! – and – and – the voice was moving again, and it lead me outside, but then it was gone – it's got Tom – it's got Tom!"
"Oh, and Tom?" Ginny called after him as he stepped through the portrait hole. He tilted his head slightly towards her, to show that he was listening. "Happy 1959," she grinned, and skipped away, back to her Slytherin common room.
xxx
"Where'd you go last night?" a very hangover-lacking Grace inquired the next morning as she brushed her curly hair in front of the mirror.
"How would you know if I left at all?" Ginny pointed out. "You collapsed on the sofa halfway through the second verse of Auld Lang Syne."
"You only know that because Alden told you," Grace said. "And, I may add, I didn't pass out."
"Oh, what – you fell asleep gracefully onto the floor, did you?" Ginny retorted sarcastically.
"Very funny." Grace scowled. "I'll have you know, Miss Smarty-Pants, that I wasn't actually drunk."
Ginny burst out laughing as she was pulling her socks on; she actually fell over and hit her head on the bedpost. "Ow."
"Seriously!" Grace insisted. "It was part of a devious plot. I never actually drank any champagne – it tastes gross – because, the inelegant moi, I slopped it on my top. I slopped all of it on my top. I never drank any."
"That was stupid," commented Ginny, rubbing her head, and secretly thinking of her own stupidity at hitting her head.
"No, actually, it wasn't," said Grace. "In theory, yes, I have ruined one of my best tops, but it was worth it. I found out some interesting information."
"Really?" Ginny doubted it.
"Oh, come on! You have to have worked it out. At New Year's Eve, everyone gets drunk, dances around, and bitches about everyone behind their backs," said Grace simply. "All that I had to do was pretend to be wasted and hang around with people who were too drunk to remember that I hate them."
"What'd did you find out?" Ginny asked, going across to the bathroom to clean her teeth.
"Quite a lot. According to rumours, it was a Gryffindor by the name of Timothy Defoe who killed Professor Vander, because he had always hated Vander, and he was overheard talking about how if he could, he'd kill him without a doubt… and how my relationship with Alden is just a huge scandal..." Grace tilted her head, as though considering the rumour.
"Mmm?" Ginny said, through a mouthful of minty water and toothpaste.
"Er… Claude and Jack broke up because apparently Jack had been seeing a Hufflepuff called Rosalind Keefe…"
"Not true!" Ginny's voice was garbled.
"Oh, and by the way, popular opinion is that you and Riddle are having an affair."
Ginny abruptly inhaled at least sixty percent of her toothpaste and choked on it.
"Are you okay?" Grace asked absent-mindedly from within the dormitory, seemingly oblivious.
After a moment of hacking, Ginny coughed up the majority of the toothpaste; she then swallowed the remainder of it, trying to get it down the right tube, and then demanded incredulously, "They think what?"
"That you and Riddle are having an affair," Grace repeated, very clearly and very slowly. She picked up a magazine and started to flick through it.
"Why the hell would anyone think that?" Ginny ranted disbelievingly, throwing down her toothbrush and returning to the room in which they slept.
"Dunno," Grace said, not really paying attention. She lay on her bed and held up the glossy magazine she held. "Hey, is this yours?"
"And, I mean, honestly – no, it's not, I don't buy that trash – who would-"
"Oh." Grace flipped it back up in front of her face. "Probably Flora's…"
Ginny was still furiously sceptical. "Why the hell would ANYONE think that me and Tom are more than just-"
"Ooh. This is interesting," said Grace, dropping the magazine back onto her lap.
"I don't care about the stupid magazine, Grace, I'm having an angry crisis right now-"
"Not the magazine, stupid." Grace rolled her eyes. "I wasn't talking about that."
Ginny turned a beady eye upon her. "Then what's interesting?" she asked suspiciously.
"Since when has he been Tom to you?" Grace inquired casually, raising an eyebrow, that deft skill that Ginny didn't possess.
The redhead stared at her friend. "What?"
"I'm just curious as to how it suddenly changed from 'arrogant idiot', 'arsehole', 'Riddle', or 'Spawn of Satan'… to Tom," said Grace innocently.
"Hilarious, Grace, hilarious," said Ginny, slipping her feet into her shoes. Then, with a last look of withering disdain directed at the brunette, she left the dormitory to go upstairs.
"YOU DIDN'T ANSWER THE QUESTION!" Grace shouted after her.
xxx
"Sixteen inches on the Unforgivable Curses, which, in your opinion, is the most dangerous, and why," Professor Devin informed the class. "And, students, that will be due in next Tuesday. Not a day later."
Ginny scratched down these homework details, and punched in a full-stop in her planner, before beginning to pack her things away.
"Some brief prior knowledge for you is that next lesson we will be attempting the Unforgivable Curses-"
Undiluted horror passed over the faces of the students.
"-except for the Killing Curse and the Cruciatus Curse," Devin said. "Basically, just the Imperius Curse."
Everyone sighed with relief.
"I doubt that anyone here would have the motives, intelligence, or even stomach to perform either of the other two Curses," the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor said with a wry smirk.
Are you sure of that?
Keeping her thoughts to herself, Ginny slid her books into her bag.
"Now, I shall see you next lesson, and you are dismissed for your next class," said Devin. He stood to shoo them away, and waited until they started to pile through the door before sitting again behind his desk.
"You go on," Ginny told Grace. "I'll catch up with you in time for Astronomy."
The brunette Slytherin gave an okay if you say so shrug and headed off, slinging her bag onto her shoulder.
Ginny waited quietly behind her desk. She had lost the Svengali book, and she couldn't find Moaning Myrtle. This was probably her last chance.
"Yes, Miss Peregrine, was there something you wanted?" Professor Devin inquired, frowning at her from hooded blue eyes.
"No – well. Yes, sir, there is." Ginny stepped closer to the desk.
Turning charms on… now.
Eyes wide. Her hair (in ponytails today, just for effect) over the front of her shoulders. A small, innocent smile on her lips. Blinking cinnamon lashes often. Fiddling with her hands as a sign of uncertainty.
We're good to go.
"I was wondering, sir, if you could tell me… about a certain topic of what I'm pretty certain are the Dark Arts," said Ginny falteringly.
"What is it?" asked Professor Devin. At the mention of the words 'Dark Arts', his attention had shifted fully to her.
"I'm not really sure," Ginny said with a slight, tentative smile. "That's why I'm asking you. I heard it... just after Professor – P-Professor…" she ducked her head, and willed her eyes to stream. Then, looking back up, with hazel eyes glistening, but a look of determined I WILL NOT CRY blazing in her gaze, she continued bravely, "Professor… V-Vander… was attacked."
"I see." Devin's expression was grave. "Continue."
"Well, I was in the Hospital Wing, and everyone thought I was asleep – I wasn't supposed to eavesdrop, I know, and I feel really bad about it… but someone, I'm not sure, said… said it looked like the work of Svengali."
Devin's heavy-lidded eyes seemed to widen slightly. "Svengali?" he echoed.
"Yes, sir. I looked it up in the library, but all that I found out was that it was an act of supreme Dark magic. I was wondering if maybe you knew," she said hesitantly, "seeing as you're the cleverest on that subject in the school."
Carefully weaving in sycophancy… yes!
However, her efforts were for naught.
"I apologize, Miss Peregrine, but I cannot discuss these matters with you. I think it would be best for you to forget you ever heard those words," said Professor Devin firmly.
"Oh." Ginny looked confused. "But, sir, I have heard them. And I'm terribly curious. I wouldn't tell anyone, not even under torture," she exaggerated sincerely.
Devin frowned at her. "I don't doubt your loyalty, Miss Peregrine, but I am not at liberty to discuss this. Perhaps try bringing it up with Headmaster Dippet."
Ginny, however, knew that Dippet wouldn't tell her anything. He would immediately see through her. Devin, smart and effortlessly handsome as he was, lacked the sixth-sense of being able to see through lying students trying to wheedle information out of people.
"Okay, sir," Ginny said humbly, ducking her head again. "Thank you for your time."
As she neared the door, Devin said, "Are you alright, Miss Peregrine?"
Bingo.
Tears gathering on her reddish-brown eyelashes, she turned back to him. "Nothing, sir," she said softly. Then, unable to contain her 'sadness', she burst out, "I just so wanted to be able to tell him, once, just once, out of all the times I've promised his grave that I'd find out what killed him… just once, I wanted to be able to tell him that I'd found out, tell him that I knew, and that his memory could live on."
The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was cracking. Ginny could see it in his blue eyes.
"I found him." Ginny was playing her trump card. Her hands began to tremble visibly, and her tears spilled over. "Amalia Boyka, and me, we found him. Lying, on the f-floor – on the floor! … b-bleeding, and… d-d-dead…" she heaved a great sniff, and she looked up at Devin, playing her doe-eyes look for all she was worth. "What kind of person would do that? Why?"
Devin stared at her. He was fighting a losing battle on the inside.
Ginny gave a start. She 'realised' where she was. "Oh, sir, I'm so sorry for wasting your time," she said worriedly, wiping her eyes. "I'm so sorry…" she turned and fled from the room.
Before she could even get to the door, a masculine voice behind her said, "Wait."
A smirk dancing across her lips, Ginny stopped. She wiped any sign of triumphant joy from her features and turned, her lower lip wobbling precariously. "Yes, sir?" she asked, her face ingenuous and sad.
"Come here." Devin glanced at the door. "I will tell you, on the promise that you will tell no-one of what you learn here."
Hook, line, and sinker, baby.
Ginny nodded, her ponytails bobbing up and down eagerly. She tried not to look too enthusiastic; like a small child trying not to seem too hysterically pleased with his Christmas present.
"Miss Peregrine, I know that your memories are haunted by what you saw of Vander, and I'd much rather not tell you… but I think you should know," said Devin severely. "There are some wicked people in this world. Truly evil people. People who would stop at nothing to gain power and control."
So close…
"Svengali is an Albanian act of Dark Wizardry. It is performed by a series of complicated enchantments – nothing like what you learn in school. It is Black magic, evil magic. You don't simply wave your wand. It's occult; casting pentancles in blood, sacrificing animals – even people – mixing salts, offerings from your own body…" Devin gave an involuntary shudder. "It's disgusting, quite frankly."
Ginny 'shivered'. "What does it do?" she inquired in a hushed tone.
"It takes control of another body. Human or beast. Living… or dead. Forcing the dead to follow your will brings on another entire type of Dark magic of resurrecting the Inferi, which you will have probably learned about previously in your study of Dark creatures. However, taking over the living is perfectly within the capabilities of Svengali. The victim, who is taken over... it is a terrible position to be in. Their mind and soul is manipulated and twisted into terrifying new forms. And, once the victim is released, they have absolutely no recollection of what happened, who they are, or where they are."
Ginny frowned inwardly, though keeping a candid, naive expression on her heart-shaped face.
That's not what happened to me. I could remember who I was and where I was. I just couldn't remember what I'd done and how I'd got there.
"The victim grows weaker and weaker – once a superior presence has been felt in their mind, they begin to depend on it – until eventually, they die," Devin finished sombrely.
That bit is kind of right. I did feel weak when I was writing in the diary… but nothing else adds up.
"Is there another type of Svengali, sir?" she asked.
Devin looked at her with narrowed eyes. "What makes you say that?" he said sharply, and Ginny knew that she'd hit the jackpot.
"I don't know. It's just that… if that was true, then Professor Vander would have just died, right? Just sort of keeled over on the ground. And instead he was kind of… you know. Mutilated…" Ginny said quietly.
Professor Devin stood, knocking his chair back. "That's quite enough, Miss Peregrine. The time, I believe, is two minutes until your next class. I recommend you hurry," he said brusquely.
"Yes, sir," Ginny said with a nod, and hurried away.
She'd certainly hit the jackpot. But if the other type of Svengali was the one that was being used by the attacker, then she'd gotten no closer to understanding what it was and how to stop it.
xxx
A/N: Dun dun dun. Anyway. Please review.
XXX
NEXT TIME:
Yes. There. She hadn't been imagining it. There was something pearly-silver floating in the Black Lake, perhaps a few metres down. Opening her other eye, the redhead pushed herself up off the trunk of the willow, crouched forwards on her knees, and peered down into the dark water. For a while, the object was not identifiable. Then it floated closer to the surface, turned over, and Ginny sucked in a gasp of horror.
And then the world went blissfully blank.