Revenge is Sweet
"You've got to watch out Ginny," Colin said flatly, his voice taking on a steady and wary tone that was quite unusual. "You'll go an ruin what you've got going if you keep on yelling and ranting like that."
"I know. I'll try harder later Colin." Ginny walked down the hall with Colin. The two were smart enough to speak normally—if anyone at Hogwarts tried to hide something by whispering everyone would immediately try to listen in. "It's just he made me so mad…."
"I figured," Colin shook his head and the two stopped walking as they passed a suit of armor that was down the hall from the stairs that led to the first floor. "But if you've got to plot against him at least try to be discreet, please?"
"Colin Creevey, when have I ever failed to be discreet in the ways of revenge?" Ginny folded her arms over her chest and frowned. "Did you hear about the revenge I exacted on Morag MacDougal?"
"No," Colin said sounding a bit surprised and shook his head.
"Exactly," Ginny said flatly and smirked.
"Oh! Five o'clock—cover!" Colin whispered harshly.
Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw fourth year, walked by talking to Owen Cauldwell, a Hufflepuff second year. They eyed the two Gryffindors, but went back to politely ignoring them as Colin stuttered, lost his balance, and Ginny was forced to catch him before he fell into a suit of armor. They hurried past and, once they were out of sight, the two Gryffindors regained their composure.
"You see what happens when you don't pay attention?" Colin asked and tapped his shoe on the floor.
"Right, right. You sound like Cho," Ginny remarked and rolled her eyes. "It's all about keeping up the face…three things—Ploy, face, reaction." Ginny said and moved her hand as if to mock Cho lecturing.
"Now don't you go knocking Cho," Colin sighed. "They offered you the job of Society President but you went a denied it."
"Sorry if I thought being the leader of a secret society of liars, tricksters, and con-artists might distract me from my studies."
"You make it sound so cloak-and-dagger Ginny." Colin stared at her for a moment and shrugged. "Right, well just watch your face."
"Had anyone other than you said that to me Colin, I think I would have reacted quite extremely…."
Ginny contemplated the strange reaction and waved at Colin as he walked off. Ginny watched him go, took a deep breath, and walked off towards the library.
It was definitely time to look up some of the more interesting and obscure hexes.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Meanwhile—halfway across campus, down a three flights of stairs, behind a fancy painting, through an empty common room filled with slackers copying homework at a rushed pace, up another flight of stairs, and past a door that led into a dorm room—paced Draco Malfoy who was being driven out of his gourd (No, Draco does not live in a fruit—and yes I'm sure you knew that the Slytherin common room was not constructed solely out of an African fruit…right?) by the paradox dilemma he was facing. He'd procrastinated, as seems to be the Slytherin way (One of their mottos it seems, up next to 'Maim. Kill. Destroy.' And the ever popular 'Stabbity. Stabbity.'), and had been forced to go sweep some girl off her feet using the Malfoy charm. Unfortunately in his rush he'd managed to sweep Ginny Weasley off her feet, and then she'd hexed him.
On the one hand he could take Ginny to the Yule Ball and only risk reasonable loss of dignity if he was simply seen with something in a dress. Best-case scenario, she shuts up, stays away from him after they walk through the doors, and never mentions it again. Worst-case scenario, she clings, argues, shouts, and they start a duel mid-dance which tips everyone off to the fact that he is at the ball with a Weasley.
On the other hand he could just skip the festivities all together and be done with it. He'd risk reasonable loss of dignity when people assumed he'd not managed to have a date, but he could live with that. Best-case scenario, he stays in the common room, Weasley goes to the dance hating him even more, and the night is done. Worst-case scenario, he stays in the common room, Weasley goes to the dance and makes a scene, everyone knows he stood her up—therefore it wouldn't take most of them long to assume he'd asked her, and he suffers a massive loss of dignity.
Crap.
"Damn crazy old bat Dumbledore! Why did he have to hold another one! That was a part of the Triwizard Tournament!" Draco threw his arms up and lost it. However, he did have a good point, the Yule Ball was only held during the Holidays when the majority of students remained for the tournament. Normally there weren't even enough students to have a ball making the whole thing quite absurd—(*The ominous sound of a gun's hammer clicking fills the still room and suddenly the narrator falls silent before starting up again in a slightly frightened voice.*)—Errr…The student body had been so excited that they'd asked and pleaded with Dumbledore since Halloween and he was kind enough to hold another ball a week before the holidays…(*Narrator lets out a sigh of relief as the barrel of the gun is moved to the point that it is no longer scraping their forehead, and continues reading*)
Never mess with the plotline of romance writers, especially when it concerns a ball.
Draco paced back and forth in his room chastising and scolding himself both mentally and aloud for quite some while. He was just approaching the fifteen-minute mark of his insane rant when he abruptly fell silent mid sentence and left half of his last word hanging in the air. This was figuratively speaking of course. No Malfoy on the face of the Earth would be caught talking in text bubbles.
"Detention…" Draco said in hushed voice and smirked.
He'd have a hard time getting her a detention on the night of the ball, but if it could be done he'd try.
"If she is under lock and key, she can't show up at the ball," Draco started listing the proposed series of events aloud. "If she's not at the ball I can get all indignant and preserve every bit of my own dignity while she loses some of hers! Excellent!" He exclaimed with a malevolent undertone that was not uncommon in these sorts of plots.
Draco resisted the urge to laugh maniacally and simply contented himself with a simple malignant smirk as he carefully planned out the details of his plan.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Strangely enough, even though they were plotting against one another, Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley were thinking of the very same phrase at that exact moment.
Revenge is sweet.
Author's Notes:
I would like to graciously thank all you radicals who choose to doff the conformist system and review! This chapter is a bit short, but future chapters will be longer. I just suddenly felt the urge to give you an update. I hope you all enjoyed.
Remember the Fanfic-writer's creed—More bribes (a.k.a. reviews)=More chapters.
Doff the below as well.
Disclaimer: I am not J.K.Rowling.