Fluke; Part 3
By Ginny :)
What is there to say other then... here goes part 3...! Thanks to hermione potter for betaing, too. Any mistakes are, therefore, her fault... j/k. :)
Good luck to the entire cast, crew and orchestra of 'Fiddler On The Roof', for next week! This time, I won't break any scenery, promise!!! And I *will* learn my speach for Much Ado About Nothing before the exam... OK, I know, I know, I'll get on with the story...
Please read and review!
Ginny :)
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Of course, for Fluke time seemed to drag on as slowly as a tortoise, until that lunch break when she'd arranged to meet Tom. It didn't seem quite real, somehow. Like a dream.
It's amazing, she thought, quite apart from anything else, something
like this gives you a new self-confidence. She had hardly cared
when Pitty had made snide comments about her at table, and answered
back when a gang of Slytherins had jeered at her across the corridor
on her way to Charms.
Just the thought of Tom, that he liked her as a friend-and possibly
more-made Fluke feel happier about herself inside. Odd, really.
Fluke almost flew on winged feet down to the lake after History
Of Magic. She had written a two line answer to her essay, 'What
Were Muggle Attitudes To Witches And Wizards In The 16th Century
And How Have They Changed; Discuss-- Use Set Sources And Your
Own Knowledge', and the teacher, ancient Professor Binns, who
looked about 90 and who was, no doubt, on his last legs anyway,
hadn't been in time to stop her before she raced from the classroom.
"Hello, Tom!" She greeted him, beaming. She was in a
good mood.
He smiled at her "Hello."
They walked along the side of the lake together, chatting pleasantly.
It was one of those gorgeously bright September days when the
air is chill, with a sharp edge to it, but the sun warms you and
your surroundings. For a change, it wasn't raining, although the
grassy area around the lake somewhat resembled a bog from a recent
rain storm.
They talked together, everything feeling almost ordinary for Fluke,
but she was a little surprised when Tom said, "Fluke, have
you got your drawing pad with you?"
"Yes," Fluke admitted, wondering why he'd bought it
up, "It's in my bag."
"I was wondering... can you draw things from life? Or, you
know, copy things?"
"I'd like to think so," Fluke shrugged, deciding that
he was probably just interested, "I don't really know...
I think they're good copies, but no one else has ever said they
are or anything..."
"Well, you never show them to people."
"Um. Not usually," Fluke admitted, thinking of that
time she'd shown Tom her drawings.
"Can you draw something from life for me?"
"Now?" Fluke was taken aback.
"Why not? You're a simply great drawerer, and I just wondered..."
Fluke blushed, feeling flattered, but wishing that she didn't
turn bright pink every time he paid her a compliment.
"I'll try," she mumbled a little coyly, casting her
eye around, "What shall I draw?"
"Whatever you want!"
"Um?"
He laughed at her, "Are you always this indecisive?"
She shrugged back at him, wishing that, just once, she could come
back with some sparklingly witty remark. Nothing came to mind.
Nothing ever did, when Tom was around... she just... said whatever
came into her head, and usually that didn't make any sense. She'd
spent the last 15 minutes talking about her love of music; Fluke
was tone deaf.
He cast his eye around the vast expanse of mud, presumably looking
for something for herto draw, and drawing on a blank. Everything
was... muddy.
"Draw me, then," he instructed her.
"Oh, but I don't think--"
"I'm sure you can. Just try it, eh?"
"Well, I--"
"Please, Fluke? Just a quick sketch? For me?" he pecked
her on the lips. Fluke's legs and stomach turned to putty, and
her cheeks felt hot. Why did she have to spend so much time
blushing?! She cursed herself.
"Well, all right..." she agreed, still a little unsure.
She didn't know if she could draw a human face from life. She'd
never tried. All the same, she stood opposite him, pencil and
paper in hand, trying to get his form onto paper quickly, but
fairly accurately.
When she'd finished, she frowned at it... something wasn't quite
right...
"Are you finished?" Tom asked her.
"Um..." she wasn't sure what was wrong with it, but
something was...
"Let me see." He held out a hand expectantly.
"Well, it's not very good," she admitted, handing it
over to him. He looked at it, critically.
"It's truly brilliant," he assured her, "Except..."
"What?"
"This line here," he motioned on the drawing with his
hand, "it should be more... like this... you see?"
As soon as Fluke rubbed out that line, and replaced it with the
one Tom had suggested, the picture seemed to take on a new life.
This was how it was supposed to be. It looked like Tom. Fluke
grinned, pleased with herself.
"Fantastic!" Tom told her, "Brill..." he seemed
to be thinking for a moment, "... Fluke, I don't suppose
you could do me a favour?"
"What kind of favour?"
"Just drawing something for me," he paused for a moment
before continuing, "I've got this picture I'd like you to
copy. I don't suppose you'd mind?"
"Of course not!" She assured him, "What's it of?"
He pulled something out of his pocket. Fluke, whose pockets were
always full of pieces of string, snapped bootlaces, chewed pencils,
grubby bits of paper, food that was so old it was practically
growing legs, and a homework diary, wondered how he found it so
quickly.
"This," he handed it to her.
Fluke stared at the picture photograph. It was beautiful... but
too twisted, too imperious, too stately. It almost took your breath
away.
It showed what looked like a giant serpent, possibly 15 feet long
if it had been real, in the most glorious colours. It appeared
to glow silvery- green on the page. It seemed to move as she stared
at it, rippling, coiling, all in one unmoving, yet undulating
movement. It's eyes were bright green, and seemed to bore into
you. Fangs like meat cleavers hung impressively in it's gargantuan
mouth.
"What is it?" Fluke whispered, awestruck.
"A serpent..." answered Tom, "... known as the
basilisk." Fluke noticed how odd his voice sounded. Serious.
He'd only used a tone of voice like that when he'd been saying
how terrible everything in the world was, 2 days ago in the hospital
wing.
She wasn't sure she liked that tone of voice. It sounded so cold,
nothing like the Tom Riddle who joked with her, flattered her
and... and kissed her.
"Can you draw it?" Tom asked, a bite of impatience in
his voice. Fluke nodded mutely in reply.
"I'll... I'll try."
"Thank you, Fluke. You must draw it. It's very important."
That same odd sound to his voice again. It was unnerving.
"I... I think I ought to be going," Fluke muttered,
pocketing the photograph of the basilisk. She was feeling uneasy.
This was a side to Tom she didn't want to know.
"Why? The bell won't be going for ages yet," he pointed
out, "Let's talk, eh?" His voice was back to normal.
His carefree and charming manner returned, but Fluke still felt
strange. Like someone was watching her...
"No, I think I'll go now... I'll start drawing your picture
soon!" she added, shouting over her shoulder as she hurried
back towards Hogwarts.
If she had looked back, Fluke would have seen Tom standing there,
staring after her, an unpleasant smile on his pale- skinned face,
a darstedly leer in his depthless eyes.
Something was going to happen. He knew it. He was planning
it.
Dear Diary, 3rd October, 1948
I met Tom by the lake today, as we agreed. We chatted for simply
ages, and it was lovely. Then Tom asked me to draw him, so I did.
I assume that he liked my picture, because he gave me a book-photo
of this huge great snake- a basilisk- to draw for him.
It's the most beautiful, and yet most ugly creature you can
imagine, It's magnificent in all it's colour and glory, but something
about it is wrong... it's too alluring. When you look close, you
can see that it's so beautiful, and it makes you feel as though
you are nothing. As though you are worthless. It seems to move
on the page, although I know that that's impossible. It plays
in the mind, and it scares me something dreadful.
But, I said I will draw it for him, so I will. I keep my promises.
Pitty has come to sneer at me, since Adeliza and Freya are here too, and since they can't stand me, she has to 'keep up appearances', as you might say. She's only ever nice to me when there's no one better to associate with. I might as well go and watch them wind Eulalia up. They can't stand each other, and it's all rather funny. With luck, Eulalia will set her 'little sweetie, really' -- aka The Fiend From Hell-- on them. That would be worth a watch.
Well, so long for now, dear diary. Time to stop procrastinating...
Homework beckons!
~ Fluke ~
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Please read & review! I only got 2 reviews for my last part... sniffle...
Cheers!
Oh... and hi to Jess and Kate, should they read this! I'm WORKING on part 14 of Sunshine If Eternal, I promise! Don't flood my inbox, cuz I'll do it back :¬P!
Ginny :)
