Ginny was quickly spiking up her hair, working
the styling wax and wet look gel through her hair. Make up slightly toned down
for class and then she grabbed her books and set out for the Great Hall. Azrael
pattered along at her heels, mewing plaintively. “Yes, food for you, got it.
C’mon, demon mine.” She entered the Great Hall and started for the Gryffindor
table.
“Child of flame, how went your first meeting?”
Blaise Zabini halted her just inside and Azrael uttered a warning growl.
“So, this is she, Zabini. I am honoured to
meet thee, lady.” A tall blond guy with chocolate brown eyes took her hand,
bowed over it and kissed the back of it reverently. Her eyes went wide. Oh,
wow. And he was cute, with high cheekbones and lashes any girl would kill for.
His hand was fine and artistic she noticed as he let go of her hand. Oh, wow.
Why were all the Slytherin guys so damn hot? “My name is Vortigern
Pendyrwyrdd.” Ginny could see Ron striding up, scowling. Damn it to the ninth
circle of hell.
“My brother, my chastity belt,” she said with
a sigh, indicating Ron. The Slytherins looked behind them to see Ron, and
snickered. “Well, this has been interesting. Ron, go away, I can flirt with the
big bad Slytherins if I want to.”
“Ginny, table now. Stay the hell away from my
sister. Don’t even look at her,” Ron warned the Slytherins. Ginny’s eyes
flashed dangerously and Azrael yowled in challenge. She stepped up to her
brother, placed an outspread hand on his chest, and pushed. Hard. He stumbled
back a few steps.
“Ron, if I want to talk to the Slytherins, it
is none of your business. Hell, if I wanted to fuck one of them, it would still
be none of your damn business. Sod. *Off*.” He gaped at her furious and deadly
quiet tone, as well as the content.
“Prithee, gentle maiden fair, come and sit
with us this morn.” Vortigern took her arm politely and Ginny walked off with
him and Blaise, eyes still spitting sparks. Azrael hissed at Ron, who was
staring after his little sister in shock, and then ran after Ginny.
“Hecate, but he makes me angry.” Ginny’s heels
clicked over the floors as she walked to the Slytherin table and then sat down
next to Blaise with a sigh, Vortigern helping her into her seat.
“He is naught but a lout,” Vortigern assured
her as he sat on her other side. Azrael slithered under the bench and up onto
Ginny’s lap. She stroked him and then put her head down onto her folded arms
among the increasing whispers of hatred from the house of the Serpent. “Hear me,”
Vortigern called out above the rising uproar, “this be Ginny Weasley. Yes, she
be a Gryffindor, but can thou think of a better way to infuriate the others?”
The angry murmurs died down and were replaced with laughter as the Slytherins
realised the truth of Vortigern’s statement. “Make her truly welcome.”
“Or I’ll tear your arms off and beat you to
death with them,” Mordred added on in a snarl as he sat across from Vortigern,
Draco quickly sliding into place beside him.
Ginny sat up then and ran her fingers through
her hair. “Gee, thanks for the support, Mordred. I didn’t know you cared.” He
glowered at her. “Vortigern, if you try anything, Azrael will kill you. You
too, Blaise.” Draco chuckled. “What?”
“Just that no one besides my mother calls me
Blaise, that’s all.” Blaise blinked slowly. Ginny shrugged and started to feed
Azrael snippets of sausage from her plate.
“A name is only a tag. A way to be identified.
Means nothing.” Azrael mewed at her to feed him faster. “To say the name,
Thomas Marvolo Riddle brings fear to no one. To say his name as it describes
him now. . .” Ginny trailed off and started to eat her breakfast. The
Slytherins stared at her in newfound respect.
“Did I not tell you she had touched darkness?”
Blaise whispered finally.
“Sometimes. . .I think I still hear him in my
head,” Ginny told them quietly. They knew the darkness too, she could see it in
their eyes, the understanding. It was bizarre, that she had found here people
who understood her better then her friends (what friends? They were Harry’s
friends), fellow Gryffindors ever could. Harry had seen the darkness, but he
hadn’t been swallowed by it, tasted it, like she had. He was too noble, too
pure. . .but not above killing the girl she had been. It was as if he *had*
killed her that day, and sent her spiralling into darkness again. But she was
enjoying the ride so far. “Whispers. . .”
“In thy head, so demons dwell. How far then,
thy descent to hell?” Vortigern rhymed easily.
“How far to hell for any one of us, brother?”
Mordred asked him, slight smile curving his lips. “Because we are lost and
damned indeed. Bloody hell, now you’ve got me talking like you! Nancyboy.”
Mordred’s indignation broke their solemn mood and they talked of more normal
things.
~*~*~*~
“Ginny, what are you doing?!” was the main
vein of comments that greeted her that night when she reached the Common Room,
tired and aching and definitely not in the mood.
“Falling. Azrael, come. Don’t bite them, don’t scratch them.” She threaded her way through the crowd to her bed, eyes burning with tiredness. All she wanted now was a shower and then bed. Azrael spat in disgust, but followed her instructions.
“Ginny, don’t you walk away from me.” She
heard Ron say behind her back, and her shoulders slumped. Dammit. She was going
to say and do things she would regret later because she was too tired to be
tactful or in control. Why did he have to force the issue now?
“Ron, don’t make me fight tonight. I’m too
tired to be polite.”
“Ginny, we need to talk.”
“No, the reason you’re saying that is because
it looks like I might be able to have a life outside you. To be a part of
something you will *never* understand. Odd, isn’t it, that I have understanding
and acceptance not with Gryffindors, but with Slytherins?” Ginny took a step
forward but a hand grasped her shoulder and turned her around. Azrael hissed in
anger, but didn’t attack. . .yet. Ron. “Shall I continue here? Tell all in
front of people whose respect you need? Ah, babble. I’m going to bed, shower,
goodnight.”
“What happened to the Ginny I knew?” Ron asked
her quietly.
“She grew up.” Ginny started up the stairs,
running a hand through her hair, Azrael her shadow.