Elementals.
Disclaimer: J. K. owns the books, S.M. owns the fic, sue the dirty crooks, remember I don't nick.
Rating: PG13 for language, mean prefects, moonlight and indecent suggestions.
Summary: mail, detention, potions and a missing teacher.
AN: Thank you so, so much to ~*TiNkErSbEll*~, "Almost Infamous", " OtterMoon", "Miss-witch", and "Lady-Frenzy", who all reviewed my fic, and encouraged me to continue.
Chapter Three: Moonlight kills.
"And by whose hand did I arrive here, set down,
in this place where moonlight kills?"
Ginny returned to the present with a jerk, as Hermione flopped into the chair opposite her, and cleared her throat.
"Oh. Hi, 'Mione."
"Ginny. I think there's a letter from your mum. It came with Ron's owl."
"'Kay. Thanks, 'Mione." Ginny jumped up and left the room, making for Gryffindor tower.
She arrived there a little out of breath, and grabbed the letter off Ron, just before he had time to open it.
"My mail, I think, Ron. Thank you," and she disappeared up the stairs to fetch her books for afternoon lessons. The letter could wait till later.
Afternoon lessons, as it turned out, was double potions. The one lesson she couldn't count on her innocent looks for. Still, one could but try.
Ginny entered the dark dungeon behind Rain and Colin, and took her place in the back corner, before most people had arrived. Whilst she and Rain teased Colin for his crush on Alys, a Ravenclaw, the class filled up with Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.
After a while, Ginny looked up. "Hey, the lesson should have started ages ago. Where's Professor Enshaw?"
Others were realising this, and the murmurs were just verging on a full scale riot, when the door burst open, and a couple of prefects stormed in. They stopped at the desk, and glared around.
"Shut up!" one of them snapped. "Sit down, all of you. Now."
"Great," Colin sighed as the room subsided. "A Slytherin and a Hufflepuff."
"Better still, Malfoy and Peterson", Rain agreed, groaning theatrically.
"Gryffs over there, ten points each!" Malfoy snapped, at exactly the same time as Peterson roared,
"I'll see you three afterwards!"
Heads turned in the now silent room, as Ginny glared her indignation at being included.
"Yes, Weasely," Malfoy drawled. "Doesn't seem to be your day, does it? Books pages 28-74, and all the questions on page 82. Get on with it."
Everyone, including the three in the corner, settled down quietly, their brains seething with conjecture about Professor Enshaw.
At the end of the lesson, the Gryff trio stayed reluctantly behind, waiting to hear Malfoy and Peterson's remarks.
"So," Peterson started pompously, "You think that its permissible behaviour from three students of Professor Dumbledore's to criticise the prefects supervising them? You think that lessons are an amenity put on by teachers and prefects for your amusement? You think that Mr. Malfoy and I left our own studies, far more important than your own petty lessons, just to be groaned at?"
Colin and Rain glanced at each other, and then at the floor. "No", they chorused. Ginny, however, had been getting to look more and more like a thunder cloud all the way through this speech.
"In this case, you will agree, I am sure, that Mr. Malfoy and I are owed no small apology. We have been, understandably, grossly offended by your completely unprecedented and unreasonable behaviour."
"Yes", chorused the two, still fascinated by the stone tiles on the floor. "We apologise, Mr. Peterson. We apologise, Mr. Malfoy."
Peterson looked expectantly at Ginny; "Well, Miss Weasley?"
At this use of her hated surname, Ginny finally lost it.
"'But I didn't do anything. I'm not in the wrong, you are, you pompous old ass, for keeping me here when I was well behaved!"
Peterson swelled up to twice his size. He was just starting towards her, scarlet faced, when Malfoy, who had till then been observing with amusement, stepped smoothly forward.
"Peterson, you're going to be late for your -ah- appointment. I'll deal with the little one. You two, you can go."
Peterson stormed out of the room, and Rain and Colin followed in his wake, casting terrified, pleading glances back at Ginny. She knew what they meant: for heavens sake, keep your mouth shut.
"So..." Malfoy's drawl brought Ginny round sharply to face him. "What have we here? I should think that was somewhat ill advised, little Gryff."
"No more than your coming to this lesson at all", Ginny remarked, deciding to fight back. "I don't like your ugly face... where's Professor Enshaw, Malfoy?"
His face was blank, white as the driven snow. She wished he wouldn't just stand there, looking like a heavenly being. It freaked her out.
"Officially, Professor Quint S. Enshaw was ill today, angel. But...well, lets just say the moonlight got her. I believe the moonlight disagreed with her, and that can be very painful."
Ginny just stared blankly, her brain a mass of seething conjecture. Moonlight?
"Now, about that stupid outburst earlier on," he continued, "I think that and your insult to myself just now deserve at least a detention. Yes, meet me here at 10.00 PM, the night after next. That should work."
Ginny first looked relieved, and then remembered where she had to be at 12.00 that night, gulped, and went slightly pale.
"Er, Malfoy, I can't, um, can't make it."
"But angel," he said in mock astonishment, " 'Detention takes priority over all extra-curricular activities.' Surely you know that."
Ginny was getting desperate. That might be so, but you don't tell your thug employer that you had detention. She looked at Malfoy sideways.
Then she slid up to him, and whispered, close in his ear, "I could make it worth your while to let me off." Her tongue flicked round his earlobe, before he pulled away.
Face as pure as driven snow, but a pulse beat in his throat.
"I'll pretend that didn't happen, Weasley. You better watch your step. I don't know why I've been so lenient, it won't happen again. You can go now."
Ginny left, quickly, her face already flaming in embarrassment. She ran, oblivious to other students, and kept running, until she reached her own private sanctuary.
She was in a small room on the fifth floor, accessed through a trap- door, which appeared only when you knew it was there, and needed somewhere to hide.
Ginny had discovered it by accident, on a nocturnal visit to the kitchens, when Filch suddenly appeared in the corridor. She slipped inside an empty room, praying he'd go away, and then realised he was making straight for the room she was in.
She'd stood there, wishing the floor would open and swallow her, imagining it happening, while Filch fumbled with the door handle. And suddenly, it had.
The room was luxurious, with bowls of roses, and full of butterflies fluttering around. That was a charm she'd learned from Rain.
Ginny collapsed into a chair, and waited for her blush to subside. She hated Malfoy! Could she have humiliated herself more thoroughly? She'd blown her cover, again, and how was she going to manage on friday ? He'd better not keep her late.
Then she started to think about what Malfoy had said of Professor Enshaw. Officially ill: that implied that illness was just an excuse, and that he knew better. How come?
And then the moonlight. What the flying fuck was that meant to mean? The moonlight disagreed with her, and that can be very painful.
That last bit sounded like a threat: don't meddle. As for disagreeing, that wasn't surprising. Quint S. Enshaw was a maniac for the truth, going straight to the heart of things without considering people's feelings, and despising all subterfuge. Many pupils joked that she seemed to know more about them than they did themselves.
Well, Ginny thought, Draco Malfoy wasn't the only one with contacts, and she had one advantage over him: few people would ever suspect her. She'd play the innocent.
It occurred to her to wonder why he told her even as much as he had. Probably to frustrate me, she thought. Annoying git.
Disclaimer: J. K. owns the books, S.M. owns the fic, sue the dirty crooks, remember I don't nick.
Rating: PG13 for language, mean prefects, moonlight and indecent suggestions.
Summary: mail, detention, potions and a missing teacher.
AN: Thank you so, so much to ~*TiNkErSbEll*~, "Almost Infamous", " OtterMoon", "Miss-witch", and "Lady-Frenzy", who all reviewed my fic, and encouraged me to continue.
Chapter Three: Moonlight kills.
"And by whose hand did I arrive here, set down,
in this place where moonlight kills?"
Ginny returned to the present with a jerk, as Hermione flopped into the chair opposite her, and cleared her throat.
"Oh. Hi, 'Mione."
"Ginny. I think there's a letter from your mum. It came with Ron's owl."
"'Kay. Thanks, 'Mione." Ginny jumped up and left the room, making for Gryffindor tower.
She arrived there a little out of breath, and grabbed the letter off Ron, just before he had time to open it.
"My mail, I think, Ron. Thank you," and she disappeared up the stairs to fetch her books for afternoon lessons. The letter could wait till later.
Afternoon lessons, as it turned out, was double potions. The one lesson she couldn't count on her innocent looks for. Still, one could but try.
Ginny entered the dark dungeon behind Rain and Colin, and took her place in the back corner, before most people had arrived. Whilst she and Rain teased Colin for his crush on Alys, a Ravenclaw, the class filled up with Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.
After a while, Ginny looked up. "Hey, the lesson should have started ages ago. Where's Professor Enshaw?"
Others were realising this, and the murmurs were just verging on a full scale riot, when the door burst open, and a couple of prefects stormed in. They stopped at the desk, and glared around.
"Shut up!" one of them snapped. "Sit down, all of you. Now."
"Great," Colin sighed as the room subsided. "A Slytherin and a Hufflepuff."
"Better still, Malfoy and Peterson", Rain agreed, groaning theatrically.
"Gryffs over there, ten points each!" Malfoy snapped, at exactly the same time as Peterson roared,
"I'll see you three afterwards!"
Heads turned in the now silent room, as Ginny glared her indignation at being included.
"Yes, Weasely," Malfoy drawled. "Doesn't seem to be your day, does it? Books pages 28-74, and all the questions on page 82. Get on with it."
Everyone, including the three in the corner, settled down quietly, their brains seething with conjecture about Professor Enshaw.
At the end of the lesson, the Gryff trio stayed reluctantly behind, waiting to hear Malfoy and Peterson's remarks.
"So," Peterson started pompously, "You think that its permissible behaviour from three students of Professor Dumbledore's to criticise the prefects supervising them? You think that lessons are an amenity put on by teachers and prefects for your amusement? You think that Mr. Malfoy and I left our own studies, far more important than your own petty lessons, just to be groaned at?"
Colin and Rain glanced at each other, and then at the floor. "No", they chorused. Ginny, however, had been getting to look more and more like a thunder cloud all the way through this speech.
"In this case, you will agree, I am sure, that Mr. Malfoy and I are owed no small apology. We have been, understandably, grossly offended by your completely unprecedented and unreasonable behaviour."
"Yes", chorused the two, still fascinated by the stone tiles on the floor. "We apologise, Mr. Peterson. We apologise, Mr. Malfoy."
Peterson looked expectantly at Ginny; "Well, Miss Weasley?"
At this use of her hated surname, Ginny finally lost it.
"'But I didn't do anything. I'm not in the wrong, you are, you pompous old ass, for keeping me here when I was well behaved!"
Peterson swelled up to twice his size. He was just starting towards her, scarlet faced, when Malfoy, who had till then been observing with amusement, stepped smoothly forward.
"Peterson, you're going to be late for your -ah- appointment. I'll deal with the little one. You two, you can go."
Peterson stormed out of the room, and Rain and Colin followed in his wake, casting terrified, pleading glances back at Ginny. She knew what they meant: for heavens sake, keep your mouth shut.
"So..." Malfoy's drawl brought Ginny round sharply to face him. "What have we here? I should think that was somewhat ill advised, little Gryff."
"No more than your coming to this lesson at all", Ginny remarked, deciding to fight back. "I don't like your ugly face... where's Professor Enshaw, Malfoy?"
His face was blank, white as the driven snow. She wished he wouldn't just stand there, looking like a heavenly being. It freaked her out.
"Officially, Professor Quint S. Enshaw was ill today, angel. But...well, lets just say the moonlight got her. I believe the moonlight disagreed with her, and that can be very painful."
Ginny just stared blankly, her brain a mass of seething conjecture. Moonlight?
"Now, about that stupid outburst earlier on," he continued, "I think that and your insult to myself just now deserve at least a detention. Yes, meet me here at 10.00 PM, the night after next. That should work."
Ginny first looked relieved, and then remembered where she had to be at 12.00 that night, gulped, and went slightly pale.
"Er, Malfoy, I can't, um, can't make it."
"But angel," he said in mock astonishment, " 'Detention takes priority over all extra-curricular activities.' Surely you know that."
Ginny was getting desperate. That might be so, but you don't tell your thug employer that you had detention. She looked at Malfoy sideways.
Then she slid up to him, and whispered, close in his ear, "I could make it worth your while to let me off." Her tongue flicked round his earlobe, before he pulled away.
Face as pure as driven snow, but a pulse beat in his throat.
"I'll pretend that didn't happen, Weasley. You better watch your step. I don't know why I've been so lenient, it won't happen again. You can go now."
Ginny left, quickly, her face already flaming in embarrassment. She ran, oblivious to other students, and kept running, until she reached her own private sanctuary.
She was in a small room on the fifth floor, accessed through a trap- door, which appeared only when you knew it was there, and needed somewhere to hide.
Ginny had discovered it by accident, on a nocturnal visit to the kitchens, when Filch suddenly appeared in the corridor. She slipped inside an empty room, praying he'd go away, and then realised he was making straight for the room she was in.
She'd stood there, wishing the floor would open and swallow her, imagining it happening, while Filch fumbled with the door handle. And suddenly, it had.
The room was luxurious, with bowls of roses, and full of butterflies fluttering around. That was a charm she'd learned from Rain.
Ginny collapsed into a chair, and waited for her blush to subside. She hated Malfoy! Could she have humiliated herself more thoroughly? She'd blown her cover, again, and how was she going to manage on friday ? He'd better not keep her late.
Then she started to think about what Malfoy had said of Professor Enshaw. Officially ill: that implied that illness was just an excuse, and that he knew better. How come?
And then the moonlight. What the flying fuck was that meant to mean? The moonlight disagreed with her, and that can be very painful.
That last bit sounded like a threat: don't meddle. As for disagreeing, that wasn't surprising. Quint S. Enshaw was a maniac for the truth, going straight to the heart of things without considering people's feelings, and despising all subterfuge. Many pupils joked that she seemed to know more about them than they did themselves.
Well, Ginny thought, Draco Malfoy wasn't the only one with contacts, and she had one advantage over him: few people would ever suspect her. She'd play the innocent.
It occurred to her to wonder why he told her even as much as he had. Probably to frustrate me, she thought. Annoying git.