Sorry about the lack of an Update yesterday-- FF.net seems to like not
letting me log in from time to time. Grr...
Fire-Mage - ... man, I wish Catholic Schools in Canada would be like
that. *sighs* Oh well... You sound like whatzisface, uhm... can't
remember his name. An anime character. Who talks about blood and stuff,
and getting it everywhere. But that's Leigh's department, not
mine.She's anime, I'm videogames ^___^
cyberfrogX - Chaos rules; my life is chaos. So is my bedroom.
Marschild - Glad to have been able to cheer you up. Hopefully
Virginia's name works better than Sirius' (That was not, actually, the
first name I thought up for him, but I decided to go with Dart because
it made for a lot of teasing between the Weapons. Mostly at his
expense.)
Willows - They get up so quickly because I have no life outside of
writting (Blackend Sunrise & Living Weapon), playing videogames, and
studying for diploma examinations.
Steph - Yeah, Aeris was a girl. From FF7. I think she was Cloud's
girlfriend or something like that. I haven't played seven in ages. Note
to self play seven this afternoon. I like writing the Challenges. Maybe
I'll write a side story about Sirius' life in the Challenge.
guess - Gunblade, hehehe, that's a good Name, but it's not Ginny's. And
I'm pretty sure Katar will be the one to off Fudge, although the rest
of the Weapons (mostly Sirius) will get a chance to rough him up.
I suppose I should be studying for my diploma exams (English Diploma on
Monday...), but writing Blackened Sunrise is so much more fun ^___^
Itchie don't own Potter and Friends.
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Thirty-Seven : Petite
The Itch
---
Like Sirius, Ginny's first experience in the Challenge was darkness.
The all encompassing shadow coiled around her, and half-way on habit,
she slipped into the half-way state when she could see both the Spirit
World and the Real World.
Both were dark, and Virginia Weasley felt her mouth go dry. The Spirit
World was never empty. It always had dancing little pixies and
spiritual beings of all sorts. A chill worked it's way down her spine,
and she hastily removed herself from the doubled reality. It was... not
something she wished to dwell upon.
The gloomy darkness pulled back, but not enough to make any real
difference. However... further on there was a bright spot in the
darkness. Although her feet pounded the ground with heavy-footed fleet
steps, there was no sound-- not even her clothing rippling. She would
have stopped to investigate, but something urged her onwards, urged her
to go as fast as she could.
Then, suddenly, she was there, coming to an impossible stop within the
door of the Chamber of Secrets. Reflexively, she bit the inside of her
cheek hard enough to bleed, and the sharp tang of her own blood yanked
her out of the dark spiral of depression that always came about when
she thought about what had happened during her first year of schooling.
The scene that greeted her was not one she remembered.
While she had been collapsed beneath the statue, she had not been
unconscious. She could remember the excruciating pain of having her
life drawn from her flesh, remember watching Harry battle the Basilisk
through hazy eyes... but it wasn't Harry who was battling the massive
snake, and facing off against the sixteen year old Tom Marvolo Riddle.
It was... herself? Or... at least, someone who looked like her? The
small girl was duking it out with Riddle and the Basilisk... she hardly
looked like the Ginny Virginia had been back then, nor the girl with
the short spiky hair that was taking the Challenge.
No, this girl's mane of ruby hair was neatly trimmed to her chin-- or,
would have been if not for the fact that not one strand of red hair
fell from the thin braids that littered her scalp. A scar ran across
her forehead; one not that dissimilar to one Boy-Who-Lived. How...
unusual.
The braided-Ginny's eyes were closed as she hacked wildly at the Snake,
and Tom commanded it to do whatever it was he was commanding. Virginia
made a note to ask Harry to teach her to understand the parsel-tongue.
She might not be a parselmouth, but it would be nice to know what was
being said. The Weapon-In-Training shifted her attention to the form
crumpled beneath the statue, wondering who it was that had gotten
sickened into being in her place.
She blinked a couple times in surprise. Was that... a third year Harry
Potter? That would make the Ginny-look-a-like in Second Year... well,
that made a bit of sense. If she had taken Harry's place in history,
then the whole deal that had happened in _his_ first year, would have
happened in _hers_.
But she'd figured that out later. Right now... she had to catch the
younger Ginny Weasley, who had just been knocked across the room, and
into her older-self's chest. Virginia's lips curled with a smirk as
Tom's incredulous gaze turned towards her. Virginia set Ginny down, and
the younger redhead, whirled around, staring up at her with wide eyes.
"Bonjour, Petite," she mentally told herself to stop hanging around
Malfoy when he got into one of his 'speak-other-language' modes, "Need
a little help?"
"Who... who are you?!" Younger-Ginny wondered, a suspicious look
crossing her face. The Older-Ginny grinned widely.
"I think that's obvious, Petite," well, it was a good nickname, and it
fit. The girl was a 'petite' version of herself, "I'm you. An older
you. Call me..." she paused. What could she have Petite call her? It
would be a bit confusing to call someone by one's own name... ah-ha!
That was it! She refrained from doing a little dance then and there.
Harry had been wearing off on her.
"Call me Rouge," the toothy grin 'Rouge' gave Petite was not one that
inspired confidence in her, but the younger girl obviously found
something familiar in the grin, and closed her eyes, whirling back
around to face the Basilisk that Tom had directed to attack them while
they were talking. Rouge didn't close her own eyes, she merely shifted
into viewing the Spiritual Realm.
Then the two redheads blew into action, Rouge releasing the weave of
Power that had been holding the gigantic snake back. She kept her
Amazon Battle Staff around her left ring finger in it's must useless
form-- a ring, of course-- and hauled out the heavy artillery. The M-60
in her hands was a comfort, as she took aim.
"Ginny!" came the coughed warning from Harry, before the thirteen year
old started truly fading away, and Tom got stronger. Petite reacted on
instinct, leaping out of the way as Rouge cut into the beast with her
weaponry, cackling sadistically all the while. This was pay-back.
You're next, Tommy-boy, she thought nastily, eyes glowing with delight.
This was fuckin' _fun_!
---
Petite would have waved Fawkes off, to prevent the bird from healing
the young heroine, had she been conscious. Unfortunately, the Basilisk
had _not_ been dead once Rouge had unloaded all her ammunition into the
damned thing. It had been crippled, but not enough that it couldn't
bite Petite when she went back at it with the Gryffindor Sword. The
girl was nearly dead, and as the bird expended it's healing tear, it
wondered if Harry Potter, the boy who'd been tricked into opening the
Chamber of Secrets would survive.
It needn't have worried. After putting a single shell from her .9mm
through the diary that had once been Tom's, and eliminating the
lingering spirit, Rouge had turned to the boy who was her elder
brother's best friend. He was not doing so hot, and with Fawkes healing
Virginia, he probably wouldn't survive.
It was a damned good thing Rouge was familiar with his spirit, as she
wove the healing aspect of the Power into his body, and strengthened
him enough that he would survive to be healed by some of Madam
Pomfrey's healing spells. It was all good.
"C'mere bird," she called out to the Phoenix. Fawkes squawked
indignantly, but came any ways. Rouge slipped Gryffindor's Sword back
into the Sorting Hat, then handed it to Fawkes, "Get this outta here,
back to Ye Old Bearded One, and I'll take the kiddies back. Deal
birdie?"
An annoyed glare was sent the way of the Weapon, and she scowled at it,
"Don't test me bird. I'm a marksman; I could shoot you directly 'tween
the eyes from the doors of the Great Hall if you were at the highest
point of the ceiling. I'm also not in a good mood. I really dislike
this whole Chamber of Secrets shit; bad memories, you understand.
Shoo."
If a bird could roll it's eyes, Fawkes did, but the fiery flying mammal
shot off, winging it through the air and back towards where Dumbledore
was awaiting the return of the "heros". Rouge muttered something
uncomplimentary, then hefted Potter across one shoulder. Petite
followed over the other shoulder a few minutes later, and she strolled
out of the chamber, back towards the way she hoped was an exit.
Briefly she wondered how to explain her presence to the headmaster and
professors, then told her mind to screw itself. She hadn't explained
anything to either for months. Why would she start now?
---
Being locked up in the Hospital Wing when nothing was wrong with you
was _very_ boring. Rouge found that out soon enough, as she was
relegated to the area following her sudden appearance within the
school. The still-unconscious-and-going-on-three-days pair of Harry and
Petite were hardly any company. And even if they did wake up, it
wouldn't be the Harry she knew, or the self she remembered being back
then.
Staring at both kids she was struck with the startling differences
between them. Harry's bed was overloaded with chocolate frogs and get
well cards from friends and teammates. Petite's was empty. There was
not one card of well-wishing. She fought back a shiver.
Didn't this Harry-version of her have any friends? It seemed not to be.
"Unnnngh..." Petite groaned, hand flying to her forehead. Since it was
well past one in the morning, Pomfrey was asleep. Rouge, being who and
what she was, was used to little to no sleep, and stood silently,
drifting over to the girl's beside.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Petite."
Petite's eyes flew open wide, and she jerked upright, turning to stare
at the older version of herself that was standing there, as though a
part of the night herself. She'd thought this older-Ginny was just...
something from her imagination, "Rouge...? I mean... Ginny?"
"You can call me Rouge," Virginia shrugged, "I don't mind. It's easier
than trying to remember there's someone else out there with your name.
So..."
"So...?"
"So what's with the lack of gifts? No friends?"
Petite gave the older girl an odd look, "What do you mean? You're me...
aren't you?"
"In a way," Rouge leaned back against nothing, and Petite swore she saw
a flicker of light forming a wall behind the girl before it vanished,
"but in a way, not. You've got that cute scar on your forehead an' I
don't."
The younger Weasley's eyes widened, one hand lifting to her forehead to
brush against the curse scar that had been there for as long as she
could remember. Her eyes trailed across her counterpart's forehead,
"You... you don't have it..."
"That's what I said."
"Then," the second year licked her lips, "Then what happened? Is
Voldemort not defeated in your world?"
"He was. Now he's back; was resurrected by his deatheaters."
"But... but..." she looked so utterly confused, "but you don't have the
scar! How was he defeated if not by the curse being reflected...?"
"Oh, it was reflected," Rouge looked up at the ceiling, tracing the
crack along the ceiling with her eyes, "Just not by me. By one of my
friends', actually."
"... you have friends..."
Rouge frowned, and the expression chanced her face completely. Petite
shivered; there was a taint of darkness in the air when she did that,
"You don't have friends." it wasn't a question, "Bloody pillocks! Why
in god's good name, not?!"
"No one wants to befriend the Girl-Who-Lived," Petite muttered
bitterly, "...While-Her-Parents-and-Older-Brothers-Were-Murdered."
"Ouch," Rouge winced a bit, "Damn that title sucks. And we thought
Harry had it bad; Boy-Who-Lived-In-A-Cupboard. Ha! Man, if Malfoy ever
hears about this one, I'll never hear the end of it."
"Malfoy?" wondered Petite, confused, "Draco Malfoy? The Slytherin
Chaser? The one who's dating the top Ravenclaw, Hermione Granger?"
"He's dating 'Mione?!" stunned shock was the only description for
Rouge's face, "Je-fuckin'-sus. This world is messed up.
Girl-Who-Lived-Without-Friends version of myself. Is dating my
brother's girl. Oh yeah, and I thought living Harry's life would have
been glamourous. I mean, I'm a pure blood, I wouldn't have gotten stuck
with the uber-muggles. Guess I never actually _thought_ about it."
Petite looked on in confusion as Rouge babbled about how much this
would sucked compared to her imaginary one. Finally, the older girl
grumped, "Okay, I get it. Harry's the Boy-Who-Lived, and I'm just the
Girl-Who-Kicked-His-Ass. Life's fine the way it is."
Petite's eyes nearly popped out of her skull as Rouge vanished from her
sight. Sinking back into her bed, she rubbed her eyes. Note to self:
get more sleep.
---
"Uhm... okay..." Virginia was back in the nothingness that comprised
the Challenge. That was weird. One moment she'd been ranting in front
of Petite, and then she was back in the darkness. Bleh, whatever. She
must have completed the Challenge-- even if she had no idea what she'd
done.
Shrugging, she started off in a random direction, hands shoved into her
pockets. A flicker of something in the darkness caught her attention,
and she found herself looking at Sirius, Harry, a strange redhead, and
a strange humanoid-being. Weirdness.
"Hey P."
Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname. She'd come up with it during
their "mandatory" Charms class, since both she and Draco had nicknames,
he needed one as well. And P would work as a good nickname until they
could come up with a better one. She was just waiting on him to do
something stupid and embarrassing, and immortalize the event with a
nickname.
He was very careful to keep his stupid stunts out of her sight.
"Hey Bald One," he returned, "You get a Weapon Name yet?"
"Sir, Yes, Sir!" she barked, saluting, although the dumbass grin on her
face really kept it from being considered anywhere near serious,
"Name's Gunn, m'dear sir!"
She paused after a moment, "Hey, I thought I'd say 'Rouge'. Why didn't
I say Rouge?"
"Hey, yeah!" Sirius threw in, "I thought I was going to be Aeris, not
Dart!"
"You don't chose the Name," Katar intoned calmly, "The Name chooses
you."
"Besides," Harry threw in, "Do you _really_ want to have a girl's name
as your Weapon Name, Padfoot?"
"No, I guess not," he chuckled, "and I bet we can all guess why Ginny's
Name is 'Gunn'. She has a bit of an obsession with guns!"
She waved a threatening fist at him, "I'll show you obsession, you
overgrown mutt!"
The humanoid that was Weapon's lips twitched into a frown, "Dragon is
taking too long."
That sobered the rest up quickly. Gunn stared out at the blackness, "Is
something wrong with the It?"
Katar was frowning himself, "How good with the Power is he, Harry?"
"Almost as good as a fully initiated Living Weapon," the insane one
muttered, "is that wrong?"
"No," the man with the fire-cloak crossed his arms, "It just means he's
a bit deeper into the reality of the Challenge than others. Do you not
remember your own Challenge, Harry, Weapon?"
Harry's iridescent green eyes took up nearly ninety percent of his
face, "You mean... he's taken the place of his counterpart?"
---
End Chapter
A nice place to end it, no? And I have special plans for Draco. I've
actually spent the last week thinking about Dray's Challenge. Go me.
letting me log in from time to time. Grr...
Fire-Mage - ... man, I wish Catholic Schools in Canada would be like
that. *sighs* Oh well... You sound like whatzisface, uhm... can't
remember his name. An anime character. Who talks about blood and stuff,
and getting it everywhere. But that's Leigh's department, not
mine.She's anime, I'm videogames ^___^
cyberfrogX - Chaos rules; my life is chaos. So is my bedroom.
Marschild - Glad to have been able to cheer you up. Hopefully
Virginia's name works better than Sirius' (That was not, actually, the
first name I thought up for him, but I decided to go with Dart because
it made for a lot of teasing between the Weapons. Mostly at his
expense.)
Willows - They get up so quickly because I have no life outside of
writting (Blackend Sunrise & Living Weapon), playing videogames, and
studying for diploma examinations.
Steph - Yeah, Aeris was a girl. From FF7. I think she was Cloud's
girlfriend or something like that. I haven't played seven in ages. Note
to self play seven this afternoon. I like writing the Challenges. Maybe
I'll write a side story about Sirius' life in the Challenge.
guess - Gunblade, hehehe, that's a good Name, but it's not Ginny's. And
I'm pretty sure Katar will be the one to off Fudge, although the rest
of the Weapons (mostly Sirius) will get a chance to rough him up.
I suppose I should be studying for my diploma exams (English Diploma on
Monday...), but writing Blackened Sunrise is so much more fun ^___^
Itchie don't own Potter and Friends.
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Thirty-Seven : Petite
The Itch
---
Like Sirius, Ginny's first experience in the Challenge was darkness.
The all encompassing shadow coiled around her, and half-way on habit,
she slipped into the half-way state when she could see both the Spirit
World and the Real World.
Both were dark, and Virginia Weasley felt her mouth go dry. The Spirit
World was never empty. It always had dancing little pixies and
spiritual beings of all sorts. A chill worked it's way down her spine,
and she hastily removed herself from the doubled reality. It was... not
something she wished to dwell upon.
The gloomy darkness pulled back, but not enough to make any real
difference. However... further on there was a bright spot in the
darkness. Although her feet pounded the ground with heavy-footed fleet
steps, there was no sound-- not even her clothing rippling. She would
have stopped to investigate, but something urged her onwards, urged her
to go as fast as she could.
Then, suddenly, she was there, coming to an impossible stop within the
door of the Chamber of Secrets. Reflexively, she bit the inside of her
cheek hard enough to bleed, and the sharp tang of her own blood yanked
her out of the dark spiral of depression that always came about when
she thought about what had happened during her first year of schooling.
The scene that greeted her was not one she remembered.
While she had been collapsed beneath the statue, she had not been
unconscious. She could remember the excruciating pain of having her
life drawn from her flesh, remember watching Harry battle the Basilisk
through hazy eyes... but it wasn't Harry who was battling the massive
snake, and facing off against the sixteen year old Tom Marvolo Riddle.
It was... herself? Or... at least, someone who looked like her? The
small girl was duking it out with Riddle and the Basilisk... she hardly
looked like the Ginny Virginia had been back then, nor the girl with
the short spiky hair that was taking the Challenge.
No, this girl's mane of ruby hair was neatly trimmed to her chin-- or,
would have been if not for the fact that not one strand of red hair
fell from the thin braids that littered her scalp. A scar ran across
her forehead; one not that dissimilar to one Boy-Who-Lived. How...
unusual.
The braided-Ginny's eyes were closed as she hacked wildly at the Snake,
and Tom commanded it to do whatever it was he was commanding. Virginia
made a note to ask Harry to teach her to understand the parsel-tongue.
She might not be a parselmouth, but it would be nice to know what was
being said. The Weapon-In-Training shifted her attention to the form
crumpled beneath the statue, wondering who it was that had gotten
sickened into being in her place.
She blinked a couple times in surprise. Was that... a third year Harry
Potter? That would make the Ginny-look-a-like in Second Year... well,
that made a bit of sense. If she had taken Harry's place in history,
then the whole deal that had happened in _his_ first year, would have
happened in _hers_.
But she'd figured that out later. Right now... she had to catch the
younger Ginny Weasley, who had just been knocked across the room, and
into her older-self's chest. Virginia's lips curled with a smirk as
Tom's incredulous gaze turned towards her. Virginia set Ginny down, and
the younger redhead, whirled around, staring up at her with wide eyes.
"Bonjour, Petite," she mentally told herself to stop hanging around
Malfoy when he got into one of his 'speak-other-language' modes, "Need
a little help?"
"Who... who are you?!" Younger-Ginny wondered, a suspicious look
crossing her face. The Older-Ginny grinned widely.
"I think that's obvious, Petite," well, it was a good nickname, and it
fit. The girl was a 'petite' version of herself, "I'm you. An older
you. Call me..." she paused. What could she have Petite call her? It
would be a bit confusing to call someone by one's own name... ah-ha!
That was it! She refrained from doing a little dance then and there.
Harry had been wearing off on her.
"Call me Rouge," the toothy grin 'Rouge' gave Petite was not one that
inspired confidence in her, but the younger girl obviously found
something familiar in the grin, and closed her eyes, whirling back
around to face the Basilisk that Tom had directed to attack them while
they were talking. Rouge didn't close her own eyes, she merely shifted
into viewing the Spiritual Realm.
Then the two redheads blew into action, Rouge releasing the weave of
Power that had been holding the gigantic snake back. She kept her
Amazon Battle Staff around her left ring finger in it's must useless
form-- a ring, of course-- and hauled out the heavy artillery. The M-60
in her hands was a comfort, as she took aim.
"Ginny!" came the coughed warning from Harry, before the thirteen year
old started truly fading away, and Tom got stronger. Petite reacted on
instinct, leaping out of the way as Rouge cut into the beast with her
weaponry, cackling sadistically all the while. This was pay-back.
You're next, Tommy-boy, she thought nastily, eyes glowing with delight.
This was fuckin' _fun_!
---
Petite would have waved Fawkes off, to prevent the bird from healing
the young heroine, had she been conscious. Unfortunately, the Basilisk
had _not_ been dead once Rouge had unloaded all her ammunition into the
damned thing. It had been crippled, but not enough that it couldn't
bite Petite when she went back at it with the Gryffindor Sword. The
girl was nearly dead, and as the bird expended it's healing tear, it
wondered if Harry Potter, the boy who'd been tricked into opening the
Chamber of Secrets would survive.
It needn't have worried. After putting a single shell from her .9mm
through the diary that had once been Tom's, and eliminating the
lingering spirit, Rouge had turned to the boy who was her elder
brother's best friend. He was not doing so hot, and with Fawkes healing
Virginia, he probably wouldn't survive.
It was a damned good thing Rouge was familiar with his spirit, as she
wove the healing aspect of the Power into his body, and strengthened
him enough that he would survive to be healed by some of Madam
Pomfrey's healing spells. It was all good.
"C'mere bird," she called out to the Phoenix. Fawkes squawked
indignantly, but came any ways. Rouge slipped Gryffindor's Sword back
into the Sorting Hat, then handed it to Fawkes, "Get this outta here,
back to Ye Old Bearded One, and I'll take the kiddies back. Deal
birdie?"
An annoyed glare was sent the way of the Weapon, and she scowled at it,
"Don't test me bird. I'm a marksman; I could shoot you directly 'tween
the eyes from the doors of the Great Hall if you were at the highest
point of the ceiling. I'm also not in a good mood. I really dislike
this whole Chamber of Secrets shit; bad memories, you understand.
Shoo."
If a bird could roll it's eyes, Fawkes did, but the fiery flying mammal
shot off, winging it through the air and back towards where Dumbledore
was awaiting the return of the "heros". Rouge muttered something
uncomplimentary, then hefted Potter across one shoulder. Petite
followed over the other shoulder a few minutes later, and she strolled
out of the chamber, back towards the way she hoped was an exit.
Briefly she wondered how to explain her presence to the headmaster and
professors, then told her mind to screw itself. She hadn't explained
anything to either for months. Why would she start now?
---
Being locked up in the Hospital Wing when nothing was wrong with you
was _very_ boring. Rouge found that out soon enough, as she was
relegated to the area following her sudden appearance within the
school. The still-unconscious-and-going-on-three-days pair of Harry and
Petite were hardly any company. And even if they did wake up, it
wouldn't be the Harry she knew, or the self she remembered being back
then.
Staring at both kids she was struck with the startling differences
between them. Harry's bed was overloaded with chocolate frogs and get
well cards from friends and teammates. Petite's was empty. There was
not one card of well-wishing. She fought back a shiver.
Didn't this Harry-version of her have any friends? It seemed not to be.
"Unnnngh..." Petite groaned, hand flying to her forehead. Since it was
well past one in the morning, Pomfrey was asleep. Rouge, being who and
what she was, was used to little to no sleep, and stood silently,
drifting over to the girl's beside.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Petite."
Petite's eyes flew open wide, and she jerked upright, turning to stare
at the older version of herself that was standing there, as though a
part of the night herself. She'd thought this older-Ginny was just...
something from her imagination, "Rouge...? I mean... Ginny?"
"You can call me Rouge," Virginia shrugged, "I don't mind. It's easier
than trying to remember there's someone else out there with your name.
So..."
"So...?"
"So what's with the lack of gifts? No friends?"
Petite gave the older girl an odd look, "What do you mean? You're me...
aren't you?"
"In a way," Rouge leaned back against nothing, and Petite swore she saw
a flicker of light forming a wall behind the girl before it vanished,
"but in a way, not. You've got that cute scar on your forehead an' I
don't."
The younger Weasley's eyes widened, one hand lifting to her forehead to
brush against the curse scar that had been there for as long as she
could remember. Her eyes trailed across her counterpart's forehead,
"You... you don't have it..."
"That's what I said."
"Then," the second year licked her lips, "Then what happened? Is
Voldemort not defeated in your world?"
"He was. Now he's back; was resurrected by his deatheaters."
"But... but..." she looked so utterly confused, "but you don't have the
scar! How was he defeated if not by the curse being reflected...?"
"Oh, it was reflected," Rouge looked up at the ceiling, tracing the
crack along the ceiling with her eyes, "Just not by me. By one of my
friends', actually."
"... you have friends..."
Rouge frowned, and the expression chanced her face completely. Petite
shivered; there was a taint of darkness in the air when she did that,
"You don't have friends." it wasn't a question, "Bloody pillocks! Why
in god's good name, not?!"
"No one wants to befriend the Girl-Who-Lived," Petite muttered
bitterly, "...While-Her-Parents-and-Older-Brothers-Were-Murdered."
"Ouch," Rouge winced a bit, "Damn that title sucks. And we thought
Harry had it bad; Boy-Who-Lived-In-A-Cupboard. Ha! Man, if Malfoy ever
hears about this one, I'll never hear the end of it."
"Malfoy?" wondered Petite, confused, "Draco Malfoy? The Slytherin
Chaser? The one who's dating the top Ravenclaw, Hermione Granger?"
"He's dating 'Mione?!" stunned shock was the only description for
Rouge's face, "Je-fuckin'-sus. This world is messed up.
Girl-Who-Lived-Without-Friends version of myself. Is dating my
brother's girl. Oh yeah, and I thought living Harry's life would have
been glamourous. I mean, I'm a pure blood, I wouldn't have gotten stuck
with the uber-muggles. Guess I never actually _thought_ about it."
Petite looked on in confusion as Rouge babbled about how much this
would sucked compared to her imaginary one. Finally, the older girl
grumped, "Okay, I get it. Harry's the Boy-Who-Lived, and I'm just the
Girl-Who-Kicked-His-Ass. Life's fine the way it is."
Petite's eyes nearly popped out of her skull as Rouge vanished from her
sight. Sinking back into her bed, she rubbed her eyes. Note to self:
get more sleep.
---
"Uhm... okay..." Virginia was back in the nothingness that comprised
the Challenge. That was weird. One moment she'd been ranting in front
of Petite, and then she was back in the darkness. Bleh, whatever. She
must have completed the Challenge-- even if she had no idea what she'd
done.
Shrugging, she started off in a random direction, hands shoved into her
pockets. A flicker of something in the darkness caught her attention,
and she found herself looking at Sirius, Harry, a strange redhead, and
a strange humanoid-being. Weirdness.
"Hey P."
Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname. She'd come up with it during
their "mandatory" Charms class, since both she and Draco had nicknames,
he needed one as well. And P would work as a good nickname until they
could come up with a better one. She was just waiting on him to do
something stupid and embarrassing, and immortalize the event with a
nickname.
He was very careful to keep his stupid stunts out of her sight.
"Hey Bald One," he returned, "You get a Weapon Name yet?"
"Sir, Yes, Sir!" she barked, saluting, although the dumbass grin on her
face really kept it from being considered anywhere near serious,
"Name's Gunn, m'dear sir!"
She paused after a moment, "Hey, I thought I'd say 'Rouge'. Why didn't
I say Rouge?"
"Hey, yeah!" Sirius threw in, "I thought I was going to be Aeris, not
Dart!"
"You don't chose the Name," Katar intoned calmly, "The Name chooses
you."
"Besides," Harry threw in, "Do you _really_ want to have a girl's name
as your Weapon Name, Padfoot?"
"No, I guess not," he chuckled, "and I bet we can all guess why Ginny's
Name is 'Gunn'. She has a bit of an obsession with guns!"
She waved a threatening fist at him, "I'll show you obsession, you
overgrown mutt!"
The humanoid that was Weapon's lips twitched into a frown, "Dragon is
taking too long."
That sobered the rest up quickly. Gunn stared out at the blackness, "Is
something wrong with the It?"
Katar was frowning himself, "How good with the Power is he, Harry?"
"Almost as good as a fully initiated Living Weapon," the insane one
muttered, "is that wrong?"
"No," the man with the fire-cloak crossed his arms, "It just means he's
a bit deeper into the reality of the Challenge than others. Do you not
remember your own Challenge, Harry, Weapon?"
Harry's iridescent green eyes took up nearly ninety percent of his
face, "You mean... he's taken the place of his counterpart?"
---
End Chapter
A nice place to end it, no? And I have special plans for Draco. I've
actually spent the last week thinking about Dray's Challenge. Go me.