Disclaimer: I do not own anything here
PAIRING: GINXTOM
Summary and Warning: there...
A/N: I really do want to thank my precious reviewers! There aren't much reviews, so I shall thank all of you down here! (And 7 is a lucky number!) Thank you Ashi-Grey, purple 389, Azalie-Kaurie, tasha0101, Unique and Alive, Dare2Dream, Sparkle Glitter and Recess Fanantic 2011! :D THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! :DD:D:D::D:D:D:
Previously...
"Hornby?" Malfoy re-iterated, deliberately switching to her last name. "Nope, not at all." Before he walked briskly back to Riddles side which reminded Ginny of a pet owl.
Chapter 7-Herbology, Ghosts, and Heirs
Ginny, after running bouts around the Great Hall in search of Olive, decided to return to the Hospital Wing after crashing into Professor Beery who was very eager to give her a make-up lesson on something about Dragon dung compost and its uses. Ginny hurriedly declined; decided that bumping into professors was the worst thing that could happen to anyone, and made it back to the Hospital Wing rather disappointed.
Only to find that: Olive had been pacing up and down outside the Hospital Wing! When Olive had spotted her, she had been so relieved to see her alive and kicking, that she pulled her into a breathless embrace.
They had begged the Matron to release Ginny back to her dormitory, and the Matron had finally agreed after Olive had compromised with her on never trying to breakdown the Hospital Wing Door again.
"I can safely say Ginny, you barely missed anything! There wasn't any homework, except a great deal of Herbology-"
"Dragon dung compost," Ginny sighed, recalling Professor Beery's joyous expression over his favourite topic.
"Well, duh," Olive smirked at Ginny (her first time), before saying sarcastically. "How'd you ever guess?"
"Ran into Professor Beery, goodness knows what he preached about."
Olive laughed, and explained, "It was a long lesson on that. According to him, that's the basic piece of information we need to know before we start planting next week. You've got eight whole pages to do on that. I dare say you'll need my help for once!"
Ginny groaned and vented her anger in the most constructive way- which was stacking the presents up into a pyramid on her bedside table. She realized that she had many things that she needed to get done the following week:
Slug Club though the paper had disintegrated on her
Quidditch training, though Malfoy had called himself 'Captain Malfoy' before racing off without telling her the training date
A visit to the Restricted Section, though the information Dumbledore gave her was just outright strange and she needed the library to be empty
An apology to Myrtle, though sneaking into the Prefects Bathroom was strictly against the rules
Wow, there are a great lot of thoughs, Ginny couldn't help but point out. Though though though though…
She sighed, plopped herself down at her 'study table', and began her work on Dragon dung compost.
As time flew by, her nightmares began to gradually fade, and Olive's confidence improved a bit as well.
Ginny spent a few days brushing up on her Herbology- and whatever she missed, although she was absolutely certain Herbology was just not her cup of tea. Magical plants, they all grew so slowly, that Ginny often had to restrain herself from uprooting them out of impatience. After all, patience wasn't her best trait.
Olive on the other hand, couldn't stop chatting about her 'heroine' deed, incessantly repeating that it had already spread around the school.
A few nights later, Ginny decided that there couldn't be a better day to sneak into the Prefect's Bathroom to visit Myrtle, and after all, all that nerdying away had made her hands itch for something more exciting.
And- how could one concentrate on Herbology with guilty images of Myrtle trying to commit suicide in the girls' toilet constantly disrupting her train of thoughts?
She had gotten tired of blotting her homework for fun, and threw all her homework aside in disgust before announcing to Olive, "I'll go mad if this continues. I'm going to take a bath- at the Prefects Bathroom!"
"You are already mad," Olive commented, putting down her quill, looking as though a Hungarian Horntail had burst into the Girls Dormitory. "I was joking when I suggested that Ginny."
"But Olive, do you happen see Myrtle around anymore?"
"No, I guess it's pretty strange that she just quit stalking me after your arrival," Olive agreed with a tiny shrug. "But I'm really not complaining as I've said before."
Ginny sighed, another image of Myrtle dunking her head in the toilet bowl wormed its way into her mind, and she muttered, "That just proves it: I made her horribly upset. She's probably trying to kill herself in the toilet. And come to think of it, I feel pretty bad…" And there are certain things I would like to confirm with her, but Ginny left that piece out.
"You're really going!" Olive yelped, straightening on her bed as she watched Ginny pack up, throwing her towel into her little shower bag. "Don't get caught or the Slytherins- especially the inner circle will murder you for having their precious points deducted!"
Ginny nodded, deciding to dismiss her curiosity on 'inner circles' before heading on outside. "See you later, Olive! If you yearn for a bubble-bath, do join me!"
She could here Olive muttering something about 'hard to sneak in and take an entire shower without getting caught'.
But it didn't matter- she had this fluttering feeling in her stomach that she had to get this done sooner or later anyway.
Fifth floor, ah, I'm here, Ginny scrutinized the intricately designed Prefects bathroom door. And unfortunately someone has to be taking a bubble bath at this-
The door swung open to reveal a messy wet-haired Draven Sestenal just after his prized bubble-bath. He was smiling- and because of that, she could barely recognize his usually dark self.
Ginny swore he was smiling for some reason, though was positive that she had never spotted him smile in his whole entire life so far.
What- Him? Best friend of Potters. And that's the guy the group of girls were talking about yesterday right? The amazing Quidditch'spell- lord' who, according to fan girl reports, took a particularly long time in the bathroom…
Even Olive had mentioned a bit of him…
After approximately three seconds, Sestenal gaze finally adjusted, and he seemed to realize that a Slimy-Slytherin-Git was standing before him. His unusually cheerful smile of his snapped off at once, before he studied Ginny cautiously, his eyes flickering to her bagged belongings…
He seems to think Slytherins are a bunch of up-to-no-good peeps. Not that I disagree with him…
"This bathroom-"
"I know," Ginny quickly interrupted, "I thought my friend was inside so, I was just- you know, waiting for her to come out."
That came out pretty lame… He's going to minus ten points from Slytherin-
"You saved Aron," Sestenal suddenly brought up in a bewildered tone, as though wondering how a Slytherin was capable of that sort. "Thank you."
"No need. It's just right to, isn't it?" Ginny was so shocked, that she honestly didn't know how to react to his abrupt moodswings, or what to say for that matter.
He is handsome, Ginny noted, finding herself unconsciously checking-out his features. In a sort of cool-guy way. Fine, I'm no professional at this-but I do understand a-bit, despite his darker qualities, why half the girls go nuts over him.
"Very Gryffindor of you," he smiled suddenly once more, and his smile, unlike Riddles, was not a cold smirk, but one which radiated warmth – and Ginny immediately understood where his popularity came from unlike Riddle who probably went around torturing people to elevate his social status.
"Thank you- Errr, so is Pott- I mean, Aron, doing fine?"
"Yes, perfectly." There was a brief hesitation as though Sestenal was calculating how much information was safe to share with a Slytherin. Eventually, he sighed and continued, "He came round a few days ago, but is being held up by the Matron. He praises your Quidditch skills at every turn. You're on the team, I presume?"
"Um, yes I think." Malfoy- I mean Captain Malfoy, didn't really tell me much.
"Well," Sestenal nodded to her in actual approval. "Your bravery would be a good addition for the Slytherin team. Something that they lack, really."
And with that scathing remark, he had disappeared down the corridor altogether.
That guy gives me strange vibes, Ginny stared after him. Riddle and him are so different, yet so similar.
She then swept the weird encounter of her mind, before creeping stealthily into the Prefects Bathroom with glee.
Harry was right when he said the Prefect's Bathroom was fit for someone like Cornelius Fudge. It was awesomely grandeur- though in an ancient type of way. Its style was very much similar to the Great Hall, but instead of a large table at the centre, was a large large circular bath tub, with a whole load of colourful bubble-like knobs of different sizes plastered on it.
Blooody hell! Ginny's mind jumped at that. How did Sestenal bathe like that? Do they have like a how-to-work-the-bathroom session for all prefects or something?
Then she remembered the main reason why she was here in the first place. Don't get carried away by the bubbles and buttons, darling Ginny.
"Myrtle? I know you're in there!" No response.
"Myrtle! Please do appear!" Nothing.
"Myrtle, I'm sorry for-"
"Looking for poor wretched little Myrtle?" A high pitched haunting voice drifted to her ears, before the ghost appeared, seemingly on the way to the door out.
Myrtle's leaving already? I thought she stays here till half-past ten?
"Myrtle," Ginny blabbered. "I came to say I'm terribly sorry. Terribly sorry about… About last week. I shouldn't have called you names. I'm an idiotic Slytherin.. The worse in the world. Myrtle, I'm sorry. I'm really really really sorry."
When the translucent ghost turned to face Ginny, Ginny realized Myrtle was oddly beaming just as much as Sestenal had, and didn't even seem near the verge of trying to kill herself – a true relief to her conscience.
She's happy, Ginny realized with some pleasant surprise. She's truly happy. If I got killed by a snake bite, I would never be able to smile again. Not like that…
Myrtle floated towards her, joy tainting her features. "Ginny, you're the first person who ever apologized to poor-forsaken-Myrtle!"
"Olive did," Ginny said distractedly, her attention momentarily turned to the bubble-like knobs. "She did quite a lot in fact."
"Obnoxious Olly?" Myrtle floated directly in front of Ginny's vision, her translucent body trying to catch-back Ginny's attention. "I don't count her in one bit. I'd to stalk her for a pretty long time before she apologized there."
"So you forgive me?" Ginny grinned, climbing into the tub to further check-them-out. "Nice- Didn't think it so simple. Oh, Errr… Sorry Myrtle," Ginny gestured animatedly towards the thousand buttons. "I may need some help with the knobs…"
The ghost shifted herself to the circular bathtub as well, before giggling a high pitch laugh- in which the frequency was so high that it caused Ginny's head to throb non-stop. "Draven said that the colours discern the type of water you receive. He pressed the red one for me to see. Got a nice blood bath he did! Why don't you try a green?"
That, Ginny thought, would be goo-
Wait- Draven? Draven Sestenal? He talks to her?
"Sestenal? You mentioned him? He talks to you Myrtle?" Ginny asked, her interest of the extravagantly coloured knobs beginning to fade.
The ghost had to clam up there, looking very uncomfortable as she drifted off to the opposite side of the gigantic tub. She didn't say another word, so Ginny proceeded to let her thoughts take over.
Sestenal allows her to watch him bathe? YUCKSYUCKSYUCKSYUCKS!
Be serious Ginny, that's not the point…
"Does everyone talk to you Myrtle? Everyone knows you're here?" Ginny couldn't help but probe a bit further.
The ghost sighed, and began twirling her hair, levitating herself a bit higher above the tub, before kicking back and relaxing. "Who would talk to poor moaning Myrtle? Just a teeny weeny precious few do."
"Myrtle," Ginny asked directly, deciding to zoom in straight to the puzzling Riddle. "Does Riddle talk to you?" That's a stupid question Ginny, Riddle killed her, why would he ever speak to her ghost-form? And why, would he ever allow Myrtle to watch him bathe in the first place…?
The casual atmosphere of the bathroom seem to temporarily freeze over. Ginny glanced up worriedly at Myrtle, wondering if she were alright, only finding her looking as-stonily-pale-as-a-Malfoy.
Then the answer popped into Ginny's head just like that. How insensitive of her! Myrtle obviously knows! She knows Riddle killed her of course!
And she's scared of him still.
"Myrtle, you knew…" Ginny whispered, trying to adjust to the new icy cold atmosphere. "You knew that Riddle was your murderer…" Of course! She vanishes whenever Riddle arrives. She's still frightened of him after all that. Remember in the library where she just upped and ditched us?
But then and again, she vanishes at the slightest bit of shock.
Myrtle had suddenly grown gravely silent at this, too silent for a Myrtle that it unnerved Ginny horribly.
"You knew! I never knew you did," Ginny murmured, the questions in her head seeming like a bunch of Bludgers, zipping madly back and forth, thrashing about within her throbbing skull. "But if you knew, you never said a thing."
But of course, the ministry of magic would never take into account a ghost's recount. It could be vengefully warped by it after all… Oh, how sneaky that Riddle is…
Yes, he may win now,
But never again.
I won't allow that.
I can't. So many suffered at his hands.
Mom, Dad, Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Charlie, Percy, Hermione, Bill, Dumbledore, Everyone…
"Myrtle," Ginny announced, suddenly finding herself full of uncontrollable fiery determination. Whoa even my stance looks pretty cool. "He's never going to get away like this again." She glanced up at Myrtles whose complexion still resembled that of Harry's snowy owl. "Look Myrtle, there's no need to fear him."
Am I being hypocritical? Telling her not to fear Riddle when I do myself? Well…
"Err, You're dead Myrtle," Ginny tried to fit it in logically. "No offense, but he can't do much to you like that."
The ghost-girl slowly lowered herself till she met Ginny's gaze, and Ginny found that Myrtle's eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and sorrow, her voice high and trembling. "I… Even Peeves doesn't dare to zip through him which he does do to everyone else. He takes a careful effort to move around…-Riddle instead."
"Myrtle," Ginny put out firmly, exuberating much more charisma than she had intended. "Riddle takes joy in that- knowing people, I mean and also, things, fear him. He's a sadistic psychopath. And I'm absolutely certain he's planning something terrible. I do have some contextual knowledge about it…" Ginny bit her lip in feverish anticipation, hoping Myrtle (a Ravenclaw) was dense enough to miss the slip. "Err, yes, I do want to keep tabs on him."
Hint hint, I hope Myrtle's smart enough to get this.
The ghost kicked at Ginny playfully, her legs going right through Ginny's stomach, her absolutely irritating demeanor kicking back in. "And you ne-eed my help!" Before she began her giggling cycle all over again.
Ginny stared at Myrtle's foot through her stomach exasperatedly, before inching back uncomfortably, not so happy with the idea of a foot in her stomach, whether it belonged to a ghost or not. "Um, you're a ghost right? And, it seems like you can go invisible and all."
Myrtle's giggling erupted into ghost-fits, the clarion sound nearly shattering Ginny's poor eardrum. "Dee-al! After you go on and press the cute little green button!"
Ginny already began to regret her request. Never make deals with a ghost, especially a Myrtle-one.
I'm screwed, realized Ginny, finding herself face to face with the Flawless-Dark-Lord himself as she pulled out from the Prefects Bathroom after her tremendously horrible experience with Goo-water.
Both dread and anxiety flickered through her thoughts. Did he manage to catch their conversation? Practically her entire conversation with Myrtle was centered upon Riddle - and his beastly crimes. However, it was highly unlikely that he did, for Ginny had ensured that a particularly strong silencing charm had been cast upon the walls of the bathroom. And she had gone to the extent of checking it twice, in fact. Furthermore, he couldn't have been standing out there the entire time, could he?
I seriously wish now that Myrtle hadn't been giggling so much.
She desperately wanted to confirm whether he was still kept in the dark or not, and needed a plan to milk some answers out of him. Riddle, that selfish idiot, after all, was not the type to disclose unnecessary information if it weren't beneficial to solely him and him-the -great.
Threatening? Not so. That was too Slytherin, and besides, he probably and years and years of practice countering that sort, being in such an 'extorting' house and all. Besides, he wasn't called the Dark Lord for nothing. Threats would just amplify the 'I-want-to-die-in-my-bed' banner stuck proudly on her uniform at this moment.
Ginny decided to try the sneaky approach, hoping he would as dense as Myrtle to miss it.
"So," Ginny said indifferently, trying to act as though her life didn't depend on his answer. "You must be cold, mustn't you? Standing out here for so long?"
Most typical people would smile at her touching concern, and reply amiably, "Nah, I didn't stand here long.", or worse case shriek, "Yes! What took you so long?" But for Voldermort's… Well, he defied the logic of sane.
Riddle raised his eyebrows, before he smirked dangerously - and mirthlessly, "My, Fridwarn, how caring, aren't you? Eluding the first redundant question, in reply I'll tell you that: I've stood here long enough."
Ginny's heart lurched at this. LONG ENOUGH? Merlin's teeth! Is he implying that he heard everything?
"I apologise to have kept you waiting," Ginny hurriedly returned, the insincerity of the words leaving a bitter sensation in her mouth. "Err, have a nice bath." Hope you don't drown in the bubbles– which she wisely left unspoken.
She swiftly made an attempt to push past the obstinate prefect, only to find that he was deliberately blocking her path with that slim built of his, his jaw line clenched in a manner that Ginny knew that she was Basilisk-pulp. Not a good sign, Ginny darling.
"What!" Ginny snapped, sounding surprisingly much braver than her melting insides, probably due to facing someone actually more irritating than Fred and George combined. "What in Godric's name are you doing?"
The sides of Riddle's doll-like lips tugged upwards sadistically, possibly the closest he had ever come to a proper smile. Their proximity at the moment allowed Ginny to make an almost accurate comparison of their height difference. Which sucked, for he was approximately a head taller than her, towering over the small, petite girl before him.
"What?" Ginny flared once more - more nervously, when Riddle failed to reply.
"Not much." Riddle finally said, nodding towards her, his eyes annoyingly not revealing anything, before abruptly reaching to his pocket for something. "Just to impart some advice to you, Fridwarn. Silencing spells are easily tampered with."
HOLY MERLIN! NO! He heard! He heard- Ginny's jaw dropped so much that she could have stuffed an entire casserole dish into it. O_Olll
Realizing that she was probably going to die-in-her-bed either today or tomorrow, Ginny couldn't care less about restraining herself any further. Whipping out her unicorn-cored wand, she noticed that Riddle had somehow quicker reflexes that she did, with his wand already firmly trained on her menacingly, poised and ready for any spell she decided to propel at him.
Dammit. That guy's slippery fast.
"What a temper, Fridwarn. Though I can safely say that I expected that," Riddle straightened his wand arm intimidatingly, before gently tapping Ginny's drawn wand downwards so that it returned uselessly to her side. "Trying to hex a prefect in a deserted corridor after curfew? How very rule abiding of you."
Playing the victim now, are you? Ginny thought distastefully, fighting the urge to cast an unforgivable curse on that insufferable slippery prat. "You'd better retract your wand, Riddle. Anyone happening to pass by might get the wrong idea. And... no, we wouldn't want such terrible misunderstanding, would we?" And, once you do, I might consider jinxing you, before snapping that murderous yew wand of yours once and for all. Day saved. The end.
At that, Riddle's eyes narrowed suspiciously towards Ginny's limp wand hand, which was currently feigning innocence by lying obediently by her side. The look in those icy blue eyes of his was perilously calculating as he decided to give Ginny half the benefit of the doubt, by lowering his wand a tiny little notch.
Mistake!
That was enough of a prompt from Riddle. She didn't need Riddle to actually agree for her to escape after all. With that little lower of guard, Ginny grabbed the opportunity to send a couple of non-verbal hexes across to Riddle while retreating backwards slowly, wand in her right hand, and bathing clothes in the other.
Riddle on the other hand, his expression was deadly calm, showed no traces of weaknesses or emotions, but Ginny had this sinking feeling that he was probably secretly contemplating her funeral date while effortlessly brushing off the spells fired at him, yet making no move to finish Ginny off.
C'mon Ginny, send him a hard one! Then just RUN.
"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Ginny shrieked, a burst of hazardous razor thin light was sent soaring in Riddle's direction. It was only after the spell actually emerged from her wand, Ginny began to regret hollering about so loudly, especially after curfew.
She really wished that she had the time to enjoy witnessing the full effects of the spell on Riddle, but her sixth sense told her to escape NOW. She fled round the corners that very instant, simultaneously perking up to a woman's voice questioning Riddle harshly.
This was strange indeed, Ginny couldn't help but wonder, I didn't even hear her footsteps advancing towards us! As silent as the grave! Spooky!
Ginny scrambled away silently from their conversation, moving stealthily down a different aisle, grinning triumphantly at the assumption that a professor had caught Riddle amid an illegal duel past curfew. The grin felt just awesome, but unfortunately didn't last very long when Ginny recalled Riddle's uncanny ability to charm professors, and whom she had just thrown the hexes at (and better still, maybe deprived him of his bathing time).
The Dark Lord... Well, the younger miniature better-looking version of the Dark Lord... Not that that makes any difference! They're still the SAME person through and through!
But perhaps she could avoid him for the rest of her life or something. Yeah, when you guys are sharing EVERY class, a stinking Slytherin common room, when he has so many cronies under him, and the fact that he's probably bouncing mad at you and definitely won't let you get away for that, a logical part of her mind countered, which, -swallowing the lump in her throat-, made total sense.
Well, at least she probably wouldn't die in her bed tonight.
Assuming he was man enough not to break into the girls' dormitory and start a massacre or something.
Ginny reached the seventh floor panting, but still very much alive. Her head was still throbbing terribly from the duel, and the mad racing away shortly afterwards. She hoped devilishly that the Sectumsempra spell had drained every single drop of blood from Riddle's body - but then and again, if she did manage to somehow stamp out the Dark Lord as a teenager, she may warp the future...
Hogwarts was unusually silent at night. And night was the time where all the horrors returned to haunt Ginny after abstaining from her the entire day. She had grown to detest the night.
Noises. Noises from the distance advancing nearer.
Ginny did the most intelligent thing her dizzied mind could conjure at that moment - and vanquished the light from her wand.
It's past curfew hour. I have to hide.
Ginny freaked out before pacing up and down the corridors, wondering how it was possible to actually hide along such a thin stretch without any part of her body sticking out.
Hide, hide, hide. I need to hide.
The footsteps grew louder and the chanting in her mind increased along with the rhythmic tapping…
HIDE, HIDE, HIDE. I NEED TO-
Great Godric! Was that a door? An entrance? Its' humongous! How can I miss something like that? I must be blinder than a bloody blasted-end Skrewt.
Without a second thought, or to admire the outstanding patterns on the gigantic doors, she shoved it open and vanished inside, fear stricken.
Darkness engulfed her as the door creaked shut, and the footsteps began to fade down the corridor. Heaving another sigh of relief for that day, she whispered, "Lumos." And a luminous glow flickered on at the tip of the wand, though not very strong, but overall did allow Ginny to abstain from crashing into pillars in the dark.
Even the tiles have wordings and strange pictographs on them… She was pretty sure they were now where near the Egyption Wizard's runes that their teacher had spoke of, but indecipherable complicated figures of different hues, skillfully carved on the tiling.
I've never visited this place before… Even in present day Hogwarts!
She let her eyes adjust, before taking cautious steps forward, until…
A colossal statue of an awe-churning Lion stood tall and proud before her, unmoving, stuck to its perch. Ginny noticed how intricately and delicately carved were its features that it appeared almost life-like, if not for the fact that it was erect, and stone.
And in its jaws, tightly gripped was none other than the…
The Gryffindor sword.
From where she was standing, Ginny could barely distinguish it from a normal sword, but somehow, deep down, she knew it was the Gryffindor sword and no other. She just knew. It was a sort of instinct you could call it.
GREAT MERLIN! What's going on? Ginny gasped in shock, Should I turn this in to Dumbledore?
I suppose I should. C'mon Ginny, try for it.
She tried out a few accios with her wand, only to find that Magic probably didn't work on an object which displayed such powerful magical properties. She groaned inwardly, knowing with a sense of dread that the only way up, was none other than physical.
I'm Slytherin's Seeker. I need some physical exercise anyway.
Gingerly, Ginny clambered onto the Lion, wand between her teeth (yuks), climbing tediously from limb to limb, before clinging on to its mane, and hauling herself onto its head. She paused to catch her breath for a moment, before trying to pry the sword from its jaws.
It was stiff, hard, and refused to budge and inch. Oh come on, in the name of Godric Gryffindor, I command you to-
It moved, and the more Ginny pulled, the more it shifted, till the sword itself was in the hands of Ginny! It shone brilliantly against the small illuminated patch of light in contrast with the shrouding darkness- seeming to illuminate the entire chamber-like area.
Then the Lion moved. Its eyes flickered open, revealing a pair of red eyes, resembling the hue of bloodshot eyes. And Ginny had to suppress a scream, as its mouth opened…-
"Welcome, Heir of Gryffindor."
And the ancient tiles beneath it began to shift and shift and shake, like an earthquake occurring just below the Lion, till it formed an entire previously concealed passage- overwhelmed with multitudes of darkness.
A/N: Heir of Gryffindor? I think I went a bit far. But don't worry. Ginny's not the heir of Gryffindor of course.
