DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ERR THESE CHARACTERS!
Pairing: GinxTom
Summary: Go figure! heehee:D
WARNING: This is a Mystery story, so many things that happen or information I provide, try not to miss! Most will surface in the latter half of the story!
A/N: Sorry I forgot to write all the stuff on top cos my dad screamed at me for not eating my lunch properly and made me shut down the com at once... So I just UPDATED Oh yes, and my titles always are pretty lame...
Previously...
Riddle, watching her closely, was rather shocked with her reply, but didn't go to the extent of questioning her further. So inside, Riddle deduced with some uncertainty, she was actually a good person? Not many Slytherins' turned Silver after all.
Chapter 5-adapting and rescuing
From her official first day of lessons, Ginny learnt a couple of important things:
Firstly, NEVER to fall asleep during Herbology. Bad timing. Professor Beery, while explaining the properties of mooncalf dung, had furiously caught Ginny fast asleep, and had lectured the class for around two hours or so on the importance of mooncalf dung, and eventually, had moved on to dung as well. Later on, Ginny had to undergo intense 'glaring session' from both the Gryffindors and Slytherins who seemed to have set their mind on a common decision for once, which was to hex Ginny out of her very skin – and even Olive seemed rather flustered over it. Riddle on the other side of the class, had instead been seen in a pretty good mood, wide-awake, and smirking away and Ginny's plight. She concluded that he wasn't the type who needed much sleep to function.
Secondly, all detentions took place in the Forbidden Forest, which at this era, was called the Ember Forest for a rather strange reason. A whole lot of students had gotten into a most fiercesome brawl over the Ravenclaw and Slytherin point system during Charms, and every single one had been sent off to the Ember Forest without hesitation. Ginny wouldn't jump at that opportunity.
Lastly, Ginny realized that Slytherin seemed to have a brewing feud with all the houses – which she had expected. Best to keep her head low. It was due to the fact that Slytherins weren't the most genial people around – and that was nicely putting it. The more-true way to say it was that Slytherins were just complete stuck-up-gits.
Ginny spent the rest of the week adapting to the 1943 Hogwarts daily routine, and trying to settle down. Olive contributed a lot to that, always explaining the clockworks of the school, occasionally the 'popularity fed' and rarely the 'famous' kids around (which included Riddle from Slytherin, Malfoy from Slytherin, Sestenal from Gryffindor, and many others – though there were few from Hufflepuff).
It was also about this time that Ginny began to feel comfortable enough to contemplate Voldermort's death. She had thought through it a couple of times, and it made complete sense of stamping him out in his early stages. However, she was reluctant to risk the chances of getting sent of the Azkaban for that - and was pretty sure that if she ever did, her chances of returning to the future would be completely severed. She sounded creepy concluding this way: But she needed a concrete plan of killing him without being found out.
Ginny, to her own surprise, even went to the extent of opening up her social circle a bit and mixing about with the other totally obnoxious Slytherin girls her age. Olive, on the other hand, chose to refrain from that, stating sharply that 'she rather befriend some trolls' (Which Ginny readily agreed with).
Though, Ginny had to admit, it really wasn't hard to get accepted by those girls. The conversation, she recalled, went something along these lines:
"Hi."
"Oh, you're the transfer! Jinnervo Molly Frid-er…wane was it? So, are you a pureblood?"
"Yes."
Claps her hand in delight. "Wonderful! Welcome to the Circle. Though I haven't heard of a Frid-wane before."
"In Southern France, in Beauxbatons, it is – very well known there in fact. One of the most ancient and powerful wizarding families there." Ginny would lie the same lie over again through her teeth, aware that she sounded like a Total-Slytherin-Idiot.
Necessary to keep a low profile. I really don't wish to be hexed around or labeled as the 'mudblood'. I'll need the privacy for research purposes.
And with that, Ginny would be hauled in to join an interesting gossip session on either boys, or mudbloods. Both were an equally hot topic amongst the Slytherin girls.
However, now and then, the smarter ones would point out warily, "You don't sound very French to me."
And Ginny would simply overcome that one with a, "Moved here quite a while and pretty much adapted to Britain before I actually enrolled here."
She threaded with her words carefully, making sure that she didn't contradict herself at some point or describe something completely out of the world.
Wow, I'm a great liar! Ginny thought distastefully – another trait of Slytherins.
The days flew by and POOF, like magic, she just sifted into place in Slytherin, but remained guardedly on the look-out, watching her back for common backstabs.
And since she was going to have to live with Myrtle-the-ghost for dunno-how-long, Ginny decided that it was only smart to apologise to her for her harsh words earlier that week. She had waited painfully long for a chance to apologize – probably during Myrtle's daily 'Olive haunting', but surprisingly, Myrtle hadn't appeared a single time to her or Olive so far.
Olive didn't seem disturbed one bit. In fact, she appeared less tired and timid for the first time in her life – which cheered Ginny up a lot.
Myrtle, apparently, must still be brooding over Ginny's words. Ginny felt she was overreacting (which was her specialization), but decided not to criticize the poor dead girl for something so trivial like that for she pitied Myrtle after all. She did suppose Myrtles depression stemmed from her violent death by a Riddle's icky pet.
Stupid Riddle Boy.
It was during lunch on the fifth day of school in which Ginny could barely hold in her worries anymore.
"Olive," Ginny said. "Isn't it strange that Myrtle hardly ever appears these days?" Or haunts you around, which is her favourite leisurely sport?
Olive bit into the scrumptious dessert treacle, her voice all muffled in the large amount of food in her small mouth, "I dun mird. Wfy?"
"Huh?"
"I said-" Olive chewed down the chocolate treacle, its chocolate remnants still clustered about her mouth. "I don't really mind. I mean, it's advantageous to me, right? At least I don't get constantly awakened at night, or eerily reminded from time to time of my-" She wiped her mouth and coughed gently, before side-glancing Ginny wryly. "Of my past self - that is. Anyway, why?"
I shan't pry. She doesn't seem very willing to speak about it, Ginny noticed.
"I might drop by her favourite toilet and say hi," Ginny joked. "And apologise for earlier this week, you know…?"
Olive nodded, and leaned in. "I honestly don't know what Myrtle does normally – it must be boring to be a ghost, but, if you really want to apologise, I'll tell you a bit of what I know." Olive looked around her shiftily, before whispering, "Myrtle once let slip to me she specially visits the Prefects Bathroom after dinner to around half past ten to… Well, she takes pride in overlooking the male-prefects bath time. Not that they know she's there- She even has memorized the names of those she's looking out for." Olive smirked at this. "It's um... restricted to Prefects, the Heads, and Quidditch Captains… So I really don't know how you're going to get in there."
Ginny grinned. Now that's the good old Myrtle. Always knew she had this sort of gross-pervert Agenda.
She had set her mind on sneaking into the Prefects Bathroom sometime soon, when Olive called out to her, breaking her train of thoughts.
"Don't bloat yourself up too much, we're having flying lessons soon."
Riddle never particular savored the idea of flying, worse still, on a piece of thin stick in which his mother had used to sweep the floor with. Malfoy seemed perfectly fine with that, and even his body structure, from head to toe, was just inclined for flight. And, Riddle, noticed with a critical eye, that that Fridwarn girl was just as, or more talented with her broomstick as well.
What bugged Riddle was mainly the Fridwarn girl. Needless to say, he had millions of other worries on his mind of course. But the fact that she somehow or another seemed to draw his attention every moment she entered into vicinity - was simply disturbing. Probably her fire-red hair, he accused, knowing that it was just plain false.
Although, even Riddle had to admit very reluctantly, she did have a rather interesting personality. Dark and guarded, but yet she seemed completely open to Hornby. Well-
"Okay, okay! Class! Listen here! The whole class must fly! It's for exercise so move up your lazy bums! So like before, we will be playing a little twigged version of Quidditch. How many of you here?" The flying instructor vomited all that out at one go – always making Riddle wonder how she managed to spit so many words out in three seconds. Quite similar to Dippet, just that Dippet interjected much less humour and spoke torturously slowly.
"Oh nevermind about the number! Gryffindors one team, Slytherins one team!" She pushed through the crowd of confused kids, trying to group them into the Seekers, the Beaters, the Chasers, the Keepers – each component containing extra players, so that 'everyone could enjoy the great fun'.
Riddle unfortunately was standing to her left, and got indifferently pushed aside as a Beater.
What terrible luck! It would be a disgrace if the Bludgers were to overturn his broom in midflight! Besides, sticking his neck up for a childish game like this- was pretty stupid.
Furthermore, his followers may lose a tinge of respect for him through this – in which he could not afford to lose!
He decided to put his charming skills to good use.
Flying lessons! Ginny had whooped with joy at that. I thought it was only taught to first years!
Apparently, according to Olive, it was Dippet's form of a compulsory exercise to all students. So Dippet does have a brain which he refuses to use! YIPPEEE! Thank Dippet!
The flying instructor deliberately set her aside as 'seeker', along with Olive who happened to be standing next to her during 'sorting'. Not bad huh? Seekers cool!
"You guys are the seekers?" Abraxas Malfoy approached them, broom held up like some sort of Quidditch professional. "You must catch the snitch before that Potter gets it. Try your best. He's Gryffindor's seeker… A pretty efficient seeker, and I'm sure he bribed Madam Piffery or something into giving him that seeker place in this match."
Potter? But Ginny brushed the feeling off, replying, "I can already beat Harr- I mean, um... I'm way better than Potter I assure you." Ginny even applied a tinge of bitterness- easily aroused by her already torn emotions- when emphasizing the Potter name to cover up her little slip.
Well, that seemed to do it.
Malfoy half-grinned, half sneered at that. "I really like your attitude, little girl. Anyway…" -That sexist bastard- He faced the rest of the guy Seekers, "I'll strike a deal with any seeker who beats Potter to the snitch. You get right into the team – well of course, as a seeker. Slytherin seems to have a shortage of capable seekers, you see, unlike the one on our team at the moment." He said the last sentence rather insensitively, not bothering to lower his voice one bit.
"Honestly?" Ginny asked, trying to contradict him for the sake of doing so, "Don't you have to ask the cap-"
"Moi here the-Great, is the captain!" He said cockily, grinning like an excited kid who just received a nimbus 2000 for his birthday, before hoping onto his branded broom and zooming off.
Oh, I'll show him! Ginny thought inwardly, hopping onto her broom and taking off deftly after him, feeling freedom – with all her worries cast aside, in which she had been deprived off for a long time.
The Quidditch instructor proceeded to release all four balls from the central circle, before throwing up the Quaffle into the air, signifying the start of the game.
Ginny hardly took note of anything, well, except for the snitch. It wasn't in sight anywhere! Olive had given up long ago, levitating at a safe spot in the field to enjoy the match.
Defeatedly, she had joined Olive for a few moments, commenting randomnly on the game – and on Riddle.
"Riddle isn't playing," Olive pointed out the miniature tall boy sitting 'obediently' at the bench side studying something. "He hasn't ever- I do wonder what his reason is- Madam Piffery seems to think it fine of him to sit out so it must be quite of concern- wait… HOLY MERLIN! Ginny! that GRYFIINDOR SEEKER IS DIVING FOR THE SNITCH! C'MON!"
Ginny didn't manage to get much laughter out of the mental image of the Dark Lord queasy on a broomstick, before she was forced to dive a ninety degree plummet after the sneaky snitch which shot off teasingly.
A few other 'seekers' joined in the chase from behind, though they didn't seem very good, and Ginny wondered how long the game might last if no one were to lay hands on the snitch.
It's up to Ginny-the-Great, she smirked, and followed it in hot pursuit. After all- not to show off, but she did have quite a proficient degree of control over the broom. She always did, really. Charlie had brought her dragon riding occasionally – and if she could stay on a dragon, certainly, she could stay on a simple piece of stick!
Then the naughty golden snitch began to spiral upwards, upwards, upwards, upwards, and upwards at an alarming speed, practically throwing every single Seeker off its trail except…
Ginny and a dark haired boy with glasses- who looked unnervingly like Harry Potter, but whose height was similar to that of Riddles.
Well, diving ninety degrees downwards is exhilarating. But 'diving' ninety degrees upwards is just plain freaky. Ginny felt that her butt might slip off any moment,
No Ginny. Don't give up. Not now. Remember that night… She felt weightless, and everything seemed to have disappeared from sight, except the golden snitch…
Remember the night in where you were on a broom… And crazy men with black costumes were haphazardly shooting spells all over… And you survived. You dodged them all and survived.
The golden snitch was in front of her now… She reached out, and grabbed it... GRABBED IT! Victory in its purest form surged through her. And her fiery adrenalin within her calmed...
The poor broom which could no longer take the great pressure any longer, slipped down, causing Ginny to fall backwards (NINETY DEGREES) along with it, slamming into her Seeker Competitor behind her.
Being as talented as he was in flight, he would have regained control quickly if his broom were in a proper position, or if he hadn't been accelerating ninety degrees upwards. Hence, he was sent spiraling down at top speed, his broom flying off course.
Ginny gasped in shock, regaining a little control of her own broom, before she proceeded to dive after him. Oh no, did I just unintentionally murder someone because of a stupid snitch?
"Get Onto My Broom!" The words sounded staccato and broken down due to the razor sharp wind tearing at her words.
But he got the message anyway, and probably would have even if she hadn't mentioned it. As soon as her broom neared him, the boy grasped onto hers desperately…
And just a split second before they hit the ground, he managed to heft himself safely onto her broom.
Life saved, Ginny heaved a sigh of relief, the forgotten snitch tumbling dejectedly off the ground. She tried to heave herself off her broom, to find that her legs were too jellylike to support her body weight and that she was pretty much stuck in that position.
No… I'm going to have to build my new home at the hospital wing again…
The students all had alighted from their brooms at the speed of lightning, and rushed towards them in horror and curiosity. Even Riddle, usually uninterested in any sort of matter except his own, had bothered to shift himself over to see the outcome.
"Are they alright?"
"She saved Aron!"
"Merlin's Beard! Isn't that Potter looking dead?"
"She caught the snitch!"
Madam Piffery quickly parted the crowd, and said, in her usual fast pace. "Everyone part! Part! PART! Dear, dear! What a terrible catastrophe has occurred today! Seems like Mr Potter is unconscious- And Ms Fridwarn? Are you feeling okay?"
"No," Ginny replied honestly, feeling her teeth involuntarily chattering with trauma. "I… I can't stand…"
Madam Piffery, hurried over, whipped out her wand, and tapped it lightly over Ginny's leg, causing it momentarily to turn to outright pain, before dissolving to numbness once more…
"There, there. That will do for now. At least you can stand a bit, can't you? I'll carry Mr Potter to the Wing." Madam Piffery scanned the onlookers and spotted Riddle, who was ultimately doing nothing during her lesson – unless you called sitting out something. "Mr Riddle, would you do me a favour of helping Ms Fridwarn to the ward?" She didn't even wait for his reply before turning to her two most trusty and experienced Quidditch-captain students, one from each house to be fair. "Mr Sestenal and Mr Malfoy, would you so kindly initiate the next game? I couldn't have this group standing around and doing nothing."
And with those few lines, she hefted the limp Potter off the broom with surprisingly little effort, before bustling him off shortly. The crowd around her began to disperse, the Gryffindors appraising Ginny for her heroic act, the Slytherins praising Ginny for snagging the snitch, and others offering to help Ginny to her feet. Ginny let Olive have the honour of doing so instead.
Olive raised her little timid voice and attempted-to-shout to Malfoy from across the field. "I… er... Want to accompany Ginny to… to the hospital wing!"
Malfoy barely acknowledged her before instantly turning to Sestenal and yelling, "We have one player on our team off-ground! Get one of your stinking dopes to sit out!"
Sestenal, whose personality seemed similar to that of Riddle's, said unfazed, "Madam Piffery requested for Riddle to help Fridwarn there. It's your business if your player refuses to heed her word."
"You stupid stinking stuck up git!" Malfoy shrieked. "Can't even spell your Moma's-"
"Err… Riddle," Olive said shyly, flushing openly, "Can you err… Take my… um… place in the match?" And Ginny was perfectly grateful for that.
Riddle seemed to pale over for a couple of seconds, glaring at Malfoy for some reason, before as usual, regaining composure. Eventually, he seemed to consider the cons on both sides, before deciding that Quidditch was the worst sort of spot ever invented, and didn't fancy his chances of being knocked off his broom in front of his peers.
"No," Riddle replied flatly. "Go on and enjoy the match. I'll do it."
Olive don't leave me alone with the dark lord! Ginny's mind screamed. But no such luck. Olive cast one last concerned glance over at Ginny, lowered her head at Riddle, before running off towards the match, before Malfoy swallowed down Sestenal's head or something.
Awkward. Scary. Ginny watched as Riddle's dark eyes studied her from head to toe, and then scanned through her once more.
"You can stand," he blatantly pointed out. "So I assume you can walk."
"Yes, yes I can walk, so scoot," Ginny quickly replied, knowing without even trying that the most she could do was probably limp. She wasn't particularly cheered up by the Dark Lord carrying her, or following her into a deserted corridor before shooting a killing curse at her when no one in sight.
He looked more amused instead of angry, lifting his slender eyebrow slightly. "Very well. Go on. Walk."
"I can walk. So scoot."
"Walk," Riddle commanded, this time un-amused, his patience seeming to thin out. Oh really, commanding me to walk, are you?
"Go. Away. What do you not get about those two words?" Ginny snapped, her patience as well thinning. "'Go' is a nicer way of saying 'Piss Off' and 'Away' in this context, is a nicer way of saying 'Sucker'." Relax Ginny, don't push him too far, or you might find yourself dead the next second…
Riddle stoned for a moment, and Ginny had no idea what sort emotion was flitting through him. Was it anger? After a moments hesitation, he settled down comfortably next to Ginny, and smirked – a true trait of a Slytherin. "If that's the case, I shan't force you. I'll simply sit here and wait for your defiance to cease."
Chill Ginny. He doesn't seem like he's in the mood to kill at the moment…
Ginny limped forward pathetically, and noticed as Riddle blatantly glanced over at the students across the field, and back at Ginny, before deciding to keep up his 'kind and loving' image by standing to his feet, awkwardly taking Ginny's arm gently and snaking it around his neck.
ARGEHJAKFSHAIDSLJFCLSDJCXM! DARK LORDDDDD…..
"Walk," he ordered composedly once more, and Ginny had a bad feeling she wasn't going to enjoy this journey.
A/N: Thank you so much to all those who reviewed (I read all of em!) and others who subscribed to one of the stuff there! It's really encouraging!
(Also, I hope my friend is reading this, and really really thanks to you SOOO MUCH: name starts with a letter D) :D YAY!
