"Ginny Takes a Dare"

Chapter 2

By Shortshanks 4

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and if I did, I would be freaking rich. Unfortunately, that would be J.K. Rowling.

Ginny stood as stiff as her Grindylow, trying to postpone the moment when she would have to face whatever was breathing down her neck. Finally, she turned her head and found herself staring at a set of long, glistening white fangs. She jumped back and was able to view the creature properly for the first time (not that this was a good thing).

The creature had long, scruffy gray hair all over his body and was very gangly, every rib clearly visible under taught skin. He stood on overly long hind legs that were reversed at the knees to form hocks like a dog's, and his spindly front legs were drawn up to his chest, looking as if they were meant to be walked on as well. His back was hunched to compensate for his forward center of balance, leaving his hind legs quivering slightly.

Ginny thought that this thing looked like a cross between a very large dog and something else, but she could not immediately place her finger on it. Soon enough, though, the ball-and-socket shoulders, lack of tail, and rounded backskull gave her a clue: it looked like a freakishly mutated man. That could mean only one thing: she was standing face to face with a fully grown werewolf.

"Oh my God," Ginny whispered, "This is incredibly, incredibly…bad. Nice, werewolf. Good boy. Please don't eat me." She refrained from screaming and backed toward the door, hoping against all hopes that the werewolf wouldn't follow her. For a few seconds he just stared at her and grumbled softly under his breath. When he started to look down toward the floor, Ginny felt a bit hopeful. Perhaps he wasn't interested in tearing her to shreds after all. Maybe the books were just being stereotypical.

Suddenly, the werewolf gave a menacing, blood curdling roar and bounded forward. Ginny shrieked and bolted for the door, stretching her hand out as far as she could to grab the handle, but the werewolf appeared in front of her and blocked her path. Ginny hurriedly skidded to a halt and pitched her weight onto her heels, jerking her arm back just as the werewolf clapped his jaws shut. He was so close to biting her that she felt the fangs brush past her hand.

Obviously angry with being thwarted, the werewolf lunged for Ginny, opening his mouth so wide that she got an excellent view of his tonsils. Without a moment to lose, she spun on her heel, running toward the window. She looked out but decided against jumping when she saw how far the drop was. Quickly changing plans, Ginny managed to leap onto the teacher's desk just before the werewolf overtook her. Much to her dismay, he joined her in one agile bound and charged, snapping his jaws together with a bone-crunching clack, but he only managed to get a mouthful of robes. Ginny hauled back to free herself and tumbled unceremoniously off the desk and into a corner.

"No!" Ginny yelped, squeezing her eyes shut and cringing as she waited to be chewed into bite-sized pieces. She was quite sure that her life was going to be over in a matter of seconds but opened her eyes when she heard the werewolf yelp.

The creature seemed to be attacking himself, clawing his blunt muzzle and gnawing his wrists, his yowls muffled by his own flesh. He threw himself off the front of the desk but struggled to stay on it at the same time, leaving deep gouges with his claws in the wood. It was as if an invisible person had grabbed the scruff of his neck and was dragging him to the ground. Ginny heard him hit the floor with a soft thump and howl in pain, growling alternately as he continued battering himself. She was too astonished to move. She had never in her life heard of a werewolf behaving this way.

Just then, the werewolf ceased to struggle and his cries dissolved into soft whimpers. He stopped crawling about and heaved himself once again onto his hind legs, teetering precariously as he fought to keep his balance. He panted softly and his gaze flickered once again to Ginny, but he appeared very different. His eyes were no longer the terrible, ghastly greenish yellow that Ginny had associated with werewolves, but a more human blue/green color. He seemed to be struggling with a thought and moved his lips about in a strange way.

"Puuchhhh…" the werewolf gurgled, "Puucchhh…"

"What on earth?" Ginny wrinkled her brow and suddenly realized what was happening. "You're trying to speak to me!"

Slowly, deliberately, the werewolf nodded. He went back to moving his lips and made soft purl-purl-purl noises under his breath. Then he locked eyes with Ginny and said in a hoarse, bizarre voice, "Puh-tt."

"Putt," Ginny repeated in a shaking voice, then shook her head. "Put?"

The werewolf nodded and continued. "Ichh. Ichh-t."

"It," Ginny said.

"Bach. Bah-kuh. Bah-ck."

"Back," Ginny said, "Put it back. Put what back?"

The werewolf raised a shaking, clawed finger and pointed at the Grindylow that Ginny was still clutching in her hand. She scrambled to her feet, but the werewolf held up his paws to stop her.

"Schlow. Mov…mooove…schlow."

"Move slow," Ginny said in a breathless voice, "Got it."

The werewolf turned his back on her as she skirted the outside wall of the office, trying not to gasp too loudly. She dropped the Grindylow in its tank and put the lid back on tightly. Then she started walking toward the door, still shaking like a leaf. The werewolf toddled over to his desk, picked something up, and tossed it over his shoulder. Ginny snatched it deftly out of the air and examined it. It was a thin piece of something brown and slightly greasy.

"Ichh-tsss schockhlll-aaht. Ichh-t wighl hchhelph," he gurgled.

"Chocolate," Ginny murmured, "Oh…okay."

"Neeeh-verh ckhhumm bah-ck hhheeere whhhiff-out pheeerh-mischh-un," the werewolf said, turning toward Ginny and meeting her gaze. He looked deadly serious now and his brow was furrowed with concern.

"I won't," Ginny whispered, and she meant it. She trotted toward the door but froze when the werewolf roared.

"Mooove schlow!" he wailed in unmistakable exasperation, burying his face in his hands and crying out in an uncannily human voice. Then he started to twitch and tremble as if he was going to have a fit, but clawed at his fur as if he was desperately trying to fight it. His eyes rolled back into his head and his lips were drawn away from his ghastly fangs in a grimace. A low growl started in his throat, and his expression switched alarmingly between manlike to beastlike and back again.

"Rhhuun," the werewolf gurgled, "Rhuuun!!! Lochhh thuh dhooor. Argh!" The werewolf uttered a horrible, anguished cry, pounding his paws against his forehead and throwing himself to the ground. Ginny felt almost guilty that she had caused him so much pain, but she had more pressing matters to attend to, like getting out of the room with her head firmly attached to her neck. She lunged toward the door and slipped out, slamming it shut and twisting the lock.

A split second later, the werewolf smacked against the door with a heavy thud. Ginny heard him clawing and snarling for a few brief seconds, and then he whimpered and padded softly across the room, lying down with a groan some distance away. Ginny heaved a sigh of relief and tore down the hallway as fast as she could, not even glancing around corners anymore. She arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady in record time and gasped the password.

"You shouldn't be out so late," the Fat Lady chided her, swinging open and letting her in. She walked through the common room in a daze and arrived before the waiting group of girls.

"Ginny, you're so pale," Hermione said, "What happened?"

"Where's the Grindylow?" Parvati demanded.

"I got him," Ginny said, staring out into empty space, "And I immobilized him. He bit me." She showed everyone the cut on her finger.

"Then where is he?" Lavender asked, narrowing her eyes at Ginny.

"The werewolf told me to put him back," Ginny muttered, "And then he gave me some chocolate and told me to leave. Needless to say I wasn't one to argue, not with a werewolf, at least."

The other girls exchanged wide-eyed looks and then a nervous chuckle spread amongst them. Lavender seized Ginny by the shoulder and started leading her upstairs.

"Right, then," she said, speaking to Ginny as if she was insane, "That's enough late night outings for you. Why don't we all just call it a night? We'll all feel better in the morning."

Ginny nodded absently and took a bite of her chocolate, the image of the concerned werewolf trying so hard to speak to her still burned into the back of her mind. She had the oddest feeling that she knew that face.