Chapter 8

 

Ginny listened to Ron and Hermoine nag at her, becoming increasingly frustrated and angry. A month, and they still hadn’t got over the fact that Slytherins talked to her and she voluntarily talked back. With enjoyment, no less. She drummed her fingers impatiently against the wood grain of the table, Azrael snarling beside her, until Harry decided to join in. That was really *enough*! She stood up and most eyes swung her way as she disturbed the calm and noisy chatter of after dinner. “You have *no right*, Potter, to even open your mouth and talk to me. Ron is my brother, so him I can deal with. Hermoine’s Head Girl, so yeah, I can cope with her too. But don’t you *dare* judge me.

 

“So you save my fucking life. I think five years of being kicked in the head, metaphorically speaking, compensates. You are *the* most self-centered arrogant sodding prick I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. My life is exactly that, *my* life, so the lot of you can just shut the fuck up and bloody deal. After five fucking years of being ignored, sent away, rejected and patronised, you three have no bloody right in deciding who I talk to. If you’d wanted one, you’d have made sure you treated me as a person, not an object. At least they take me seriously. Yeah, they’re Slytherins. So? I don’t see how it’s any of your sodding business.” Her voice dropped from a near scream to a venomous hiss as the Slytherin table erupted into applause. “Do I make myself clear?” The Gryffindors she addressed were staring at her in shocked horror. Ginny waited for their brains to catch up with their ears.

 

“Milady, allow me to escort thee from such rabble that have provoked thee sorely.” Vortigern materialized at her side, and Ginny flashed him a grateful smile, still shaking from the after effects of her tirade. Azrael mewed pleadingly, golden eyes fixed on Harry. Ginny petted his head.

 

“Go for it, Azrael. Not much blood mind, just rip his robes a little.” Harry gaped at her for an instant as Azrael yowled in delight, before Azrael was on him, making Harry yelp to his evil little heart’s content. “Thank you, Vortigern.” Mordred, Draco and Blaise soon appeared at her side as well.

 

“Couldn’t let our mascot get hurt, can we now?” Mordred said loudly and Ginny sniggered at the look on the Gryffindors faces.

 

“Azrael, stop now,” Ginny said and Azrael leapt off Harry’s shoulder, onto the table sending dishes flying and then onto the floor, loping after her as she left the Great Hall, escorted by the four male Slytherins. “So, I’m a pet, a curiosity.”

 

“No, we’re adopting you,” Blaise corrected. “Did you see Potter’s face?”

 

“It looks so much better with scratches down it, doesn’t it?” Ginny giggled.

 

“All too true.” Draco smiled lazily. “I think you scare them now.”

 

“Well, you did it,” Mordred purred. “The Gryffindors will *never* recover. And telling the entire school exactly why you were so pissed was absolute genius. Now, let them try and keep their pure and saintly image. Azrael, you deserve a metal.”

 

“Azrael was the true hero of the hour,” Ginny said proudly as she picked the ecstatic cat up.

 

“Thy familiar proves his worth. Truly, there’s a stout heart in that small frame. A true warrior, in every sense of the word.” Azrael purred as Vortigern complimented him.

 

“So, once more I ask, what the hell are we doing?” Ginny stopped in the middle of the hallway and rested her chin on Azrael’s head. They halted, her in the middle of the group and looked at her curiously.

 

“Torture.” Blaise smiled.

 

“Amusement.” Draco ran a hand through his ice blond hair.

 

“Flirtation, coy looks and secrets.” Vortigern laughed and sketched her an elegant bow.

 

“To sum it all up, we’re just being bloody bastards. We set the school up to take a fall. You play along. And we all have fun along the way.” Mordred ran a quick hand through her hair. She jerked her head away and snarled at him, Azrael a bare beat behind at his audacity. “Scary little kitten.”

 

“I’m a devil kitten.” Ginny smirked and walked on, brushing past Vortigern. “So there with the grr and the evil.”

 

“Oh, most assuredly, sweet lady.” Vortigern chuckled as the Slytherins slipped away in the direction of the Dungeons.

 

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