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Chapter 3 : Dances With Wolves
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A/N: heheh. please dont hurt me for making this update so late, and crappy at that. i blame my family for assuming that graduating school and studying for finals is more important than writing fanfiction--the nerve!
If Ginny had been conscious, she probably would have thought that the best thing so far in her twisted, eighteenth century adventure was her new bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out, and the corset thing in addition to about a hundred other annoying and disturbing discoveries didn’t seem so bad.
Then something hit her. She sat up and rubbed her forehead. It was that bloody book again. She glared at it as it flipped to another blank page. Her brain registered that something was about to happen, but due to her current sleepy state the realization struck about five seconds too late. For the second time that day there was a blinding flash, and then two figures appeared before her, grinning from ear to ear.
“Salutations, cheerio, and all that sort of stuff, huh?”
Ginny just stared at the two of them.
“Well, Fred, I do believe she’s speechless,” said George.
“Must be the outfits. Eighteenth century garb really can do wonders for your figure,” replied Fred.
“Thanks, mate. Though the tights can be a bit of a drawback.”
“Yeh, I’ll bet it takes me a week to pull them out from up my-“
“I HATE YOU!” Ginny lunged at the nearest twin, George, and began pulling on his hair. Fred tried to pull her off him while George cursed loudly in pain. Finally Ginny was off of her brother and George was rubbing his scalp.
“Bloody Bogart, Gin, it was only a bit of fun,” he complained.
Ginny tried to wriggle out of Fred’s grip. “Fun?! FUN?! You think it’s fun being strapped in a corset and dumped into some trashy novel where men where tights and Luna is actually sane for once?! And have you seen Ron?!”
“Speaking of Ron,” Fred said, casually,” he’s the reason we began turning literary art into prank novels. He doesn’t remember it well, but he had this kiddy book about the itsy bitsy spider.”
“Yeh, and all he remembers is one minute playing with his Teddy-“ Cut in George, very much over his near scalping
“And the next there was this enormous spider and-“
“Well, Mum and Dad caught us,” George said, disappointed.
“That was our first testing of the product, and if you couldn’t tell, it didn’t go so well.” Fred scratched his neck.
“But it’s still worth a laugh to sneak in to Ron’s room at night and sing the spider song,” George grinned.
“Yeh,” Fred agreed, patting his brother on the back and releasing Ginny completely. “You should hear him scream.”
Ginny looked somewhat settled down but still crimson in the face and very much angry. “Shut up and tell me why you put me in this mess, then, why don’t you? Why not Ron?”
Fred put his arm around her in mock sympathy and extended the other one before him in an explanatory gesture. “Gin, can you imagine Ron in a corset?”
George chuckled. “Besides, it was enough that we got him into tights. Merlin, if only he knew how he looked.” Fred clapped his brother on the back and laughed along with him.
“You mean like you two? Only, I assure you, Ron’s Quidditch muscles just barely compensated for his girlish attire. You two, however, look like a couple of ugly drag queens.” Ginny crossed her arms and smirked as the twins stopped laughing and looked themselves over.
“That was deeply insulting,” Fred said in mock sorrow, dabbing at his eyes with a frilly handkerchief from his pocket. George patted him on the back and sniffed.
“You two idiots, get me out of here before I-“
“What?” George asked.
“Yeh, we haven’t exactly figured out what we’re doing,” Fred admitted sheepishly, and Ginny’s eyes bugged.
“This is more like a trial run, Gin,” George hastily added. “But we’re almost slightly certain it’s sort of safe, if that’s any assurance to you.”
Ginny grabbed both of them by their hair. “So I’m your lab rat?!” she screamed in to Fred’s ear. “You don’t even know what’s going to happen to me in here?!”
“Well, we’re following along with you as you go, but no one can see us unless we want to be seen-“ Fred said between cries of pain.
“And everyone we know is here with you, they just don’t know it.” George added.
“So they’re dreaming this?” Ginny asked.
“Yeh, sort of, but they won’t remember an of it afterwards. Only you.”
“And no one can leave until it’s at the end,” Fred concluded, and then rethought his explanation once he saw the look of pure loathing on his sister's face.
“Which is…when?” Ginny asked, beginning to panic.
“We’re not exactly sure,” George answered, earning an extra jerk of his hair.
“Only about twenty or more chapters to go,” Fred said sarcastically.
“You-“ Ginny began, but suddenly the twins were gone, and so was the book.
Ginny cried in frustration as suddenly Parvati burst into the room. “What are you waiting for? We’re about to go to the dance!” She grabbed Ginny’s hand and pulled her down the stairs.
“I’m not even ready yet,” Ginny protested as they entered the sitting room once again.
“You look beautiful,” Hermione said sincerely, though it was clear it was her who was the most charming.
“Yes, don’t be so selfish! Even if you aren’t, we are, so let’s go!” Padma whined, and they began their port-key trip into town, Luna mumbling and grumbling about how social gatherings were a waste of time and magic. Parvati elbowed her in the ribs and told her to shut up.
As they descended in front of a lively home, where music could be heard and laughing as well, Ginny felt her spirits rise. Then she remembered that somewhere Fred and George were watching with amusement, and she turned and made a very rude hand gesture to the empty space behind her, hoping the twins might see and think twice about putting her through this again.
Then quite suddenly two finely dressed men and one woman appeared before her, each clutching their own port-key. They stared in horror and surprise at her hostile greeting and she blushed deeper than she thought possible. She could have sworn she heard laughing and mentally, she cursed the twins.
Finally, she found her voice, and said as firmly as possible, “I...erm...I injured my finger while...traveling, and...umm...I’m j-just using a special...healing technique to...erm...soothe it-heheh...if you don’t mind,” and with as much dignity as she could muster she turned and joined her family in entering the dance.
Ginny was not thrilled to notice that the three people she'd accidentally flipped off were Mr. Billius and his two guests, but she saw past that faster than she thought possible when she discovered just who Fred and George, the twits, had cast for the roles of Ron's friends.
Now, Pansy, she could take. After years of having boyfriend after boyfriend (well, the few boyfriends who'd gotten up the nerve to ask her despite the dangers of doing so) interrogated by Ron, Ginny figured he had it coming to him. Now that was the only thing worse than the time she'd walked in on Ron and Hermione during one super intense snog session. Ron and Pansy?! Ouch. And from across the room, Hermione seemed equally taken aback.
But Ron's other friend was far worse.
"I am going to kill those two," Ginny silently swore under her breath as Ron spotted her with her family and headed over to introduce them. She politely shook Pansy's hand, and gave Ron her best sorry-I-flipped-you-off-but-welcome-to-the-neighborhood-anyway smile.
However, once she was met with a rather pale looking hand to shake, she felt her face flush and her eyes narrow. Still, the hand remained before her for the shaking, and the smile remained fixed on that ferret face of his as he smirked down at her with eyes filled with malice.
Ron looked over at Ginny's resistant glare and said warmly, "Let me introduce you to my dearest friend, Mr. Draco Darcy."
Ginny sneered at the pale boy as he finally dropped his hand and gave her family, well, fictional family, the once-over. She turned to find the nearest hard surface she could bang her head on. Better yet, the twins' heads on.
But he caught her arm and whispered in her ear confidentially, "Look, I know you know about as much as I do about this twisted little fairytale, maybe more, and I'm about this close to losing it right here. I don't have time to parade around in tights and pretend Weasley's my best mate, so spill what you know so I can finish up here and go." Ginny found her eyes growing wider with each word he said.
"You know this isn't a dream?" she asked incredulously. 'And what the hell is with guys in tights? I hate to admit it, but Malfoy actually looks good in them. Very Peter-Pan-ish. Whoa. Cross that.' Ginny shook her head to clear her disturbing and frighteningly romantic-like thoughts.
"No, Weaslette, this is part of the script," he spat sarcastically. She gave him another perplexed look. "Of course I know! Merlin, I'm a Malfoy." Ginny snorted in disgust turned to leave, but he caught her arm again, tighter. "Look, I've read this book before." 'And about every other book in my library', he wanted to add. "Trust me, you won't like how this ends. The author is cruel and twisted."
"No, you are cruel and twisted," Ginny replied, trying to loosen his grip on her arm. He glared at her and let go. Seeing she might be losing a valuable ally, she quickly asked, "How does it end?"
Malfoy looked flustered, but quickly regained his composure. "You tell first. What do you know, Weasley?"
"I know I'm about this close to breaking your nose since you won't just call me Ginny," she said evenly. He waited for her to continue. "Look, there was a rhyme and...well the point is it was Fred and George. A prank of theirs, anyway, and we have to live out the rest of this book up until The End. So tell me, what is the ending?"
"It's a bit fuzzy to me," he said nonchalantly. "I read it a while back, but I remember that I may have stopped reading it at about the part where one of your sisters gets kidnapped by some guy named Wickham."
"Oh perfect, MIster Dilligent Reader. And who's that?!" Ginny asked.
"How the hell should I know?" he snapped. Then, seeing the venemous look on her face, quickly added,"It's someone we know from our daily lives, though."
"Oh, big help. I'll keep an eye out for someone who's male, takes advantage of women, and, oh yeah, just happens to be a close acquaintance."
"Shouldn't be hard, considering the scum in your social circle," Malfoy sneered.
"Actually, I figured your character might just be shady enough to do such a thing," she said heatedly, stabbing him in the chest accusingly with her (pointer) finger.
"Darcy?" he asked incredulously, his hands up in defense. "Hey, I'm a good guy!" Ginny looked extrememly doubtful, but trusted him to know the story better than she. Heck, the last book she read had been, well, Ron's diary. And it had seriously TMI-ed her out. Now that was one seriously disturbing look into the male mind. Besides, she figured Draco-erm-Malfoy-no-Darcy (whatever!) was telling the truth.
And she knew he certainly was not staring at her face as he spoke just now, speaking of the male mind. 'Ugh!' her inner voice gagged. That violated any form of reason in her mind and his, and Ginny took a step back, while realizing he had been caught staring at Weasley's newly acquired cleavage, Draco cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure.
"I think we've figured out as much as we could from one another. I'd appreciate it if now you would leave." Ginny said hastilly, turning scarlet, and scowled at him ferociously, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Malfoy coughed, and looked away for a moment, face coloring madly.
"Sure thing. Weaslette."
She directed all of her most hateful energy at his retreating figure. It was going to be a long night, and, for certain, an even longer novel.
Oh, what the heck! I owe it to you people! So I'll add in the really intersting cliffie so you don't feel I'm jipping you. I know, a cliffie, I'm just too good!
Ginny retuned to her family, and was immeadiately siezed by an overly-enthusiastic Hermione.
"That woman was his sister! And he asked to be the first to dance with me!" she squealed.
Ginny, rubbing her sore eardrum, merely muttered, "Well isn't that splendid, then?"
Hermione, failing to notice her sister's sarcasm, continued. "And one more thing. He said: 'Save the last dance for me'. Now, isn't that romantic," she swooned. Ginny smiled unconvincingly.
"Yeah, you show him how to get down and dirty on the dance floor, hon," she said as convincingly as she could, hoping that the phrase was so old it would have passed for cool and supportive back in eighteenth century hell. Hermione, sensing by now that her sister was just a little off her rocker, nodded dumbly but continued smiling.
"I will! I will!" She screeched into Ginny's other ear. Ginny excused herself and sat down on the opposite side of the room, away from Hermione's mad case of hyper-puppy-love.
As she turned to speak to Luna, who was sitting in a corner nearby, reading some large and boring tome, Draco and Ron approached. They stood in front of her, Ron wringing his hands nervously and beaming with glee, Draco sneering at the crowd with a look of superiority and utter loathing. Fred and George could not have picked a more opposite pair. Of friends.
Ron turned to Draco with a look similar to Hermione's in that it was crazy, ecstatic, and hyped. "I'm about to dance with an angel! Would you just look at her, Darcy? She's the most gorgeous creature I've ever laid eyes on! And I can only hope she feels the same way."
Draco looked as if about to tell Ron that under no circumstance would anyone ever think him the most "gorgeous creature", but held his tongue and said with casual distaste. "Well, at least you have the next few dances secured and they're with the prettiest girl in the room. Regardless of how poor and drab she may be."
Ginny was beginning to feel the desire to shove his twisted compliments up his arrogant--"But, Darcy, what of her next sister? The one with the auburn hair? I thought her quite pretty, if not a bit odd. I saw you talking with her earlier, and figured you must have been getting reacquainted." Ron was looking still at Hermione but talking to Draco with such a sincere, dedicated, friendly sort of voice that Ginny felt for a moment she really could have hugged the brute. Though the fact he had just referred to his sister in a romantic demeanor was a little gaggy. "Come on," Ron teased. "You two looked like you really were enjoying the other's company for a moment there." He nudged Draco. "I saw you both blush."
Ginny felt herself blushing just then, and she could hear Draco nervously clearing his throat again. Ron laughed good-naturedly. Ginny realized that Draco did seem somewhat attracted to her, and the fact he seemed uncomfortable when she was mentioned really did excite her hopes. Well, not that she had any hope of him liking her. He was still a conceited, evil ferret. Who looked pretty darn good without the gelled back hair and black robes.
Then Draco had to go and kill her joy. "Red isn't my color, anyway. And besides, pretty as she is she could never tempt me. Not with such bad manners, low class, and poor taste in fashion." Ouch. "Spare me, please." Burn. Ginny wilted and deflated. "I came only to this ball for your support, not for my own love life." With that being said he chuckled darkly and began once again to mentally inspect and criticize each of the guests.
The song ended and Ron rushed across the floor to find Hermione. Ginny stood and moved past Draco with as much dignity as the situation called for. In other words, she smiled her most graceful smile and nodded curtly while "accidentally" brushing his shoulder with hers with enough force to bring down a full grown zebra.
But she wasn't too greatly offended. No, she'd known Malfoy for far too long, and though they'd shared a thoughtful moment earlier that evening, her instincts told her already that they might as well have named this book War and Peace and stamped their faces on the cover. Well, if you scratch the Peace part.
She decided to remain good-natured about the whole thing, and think of it as a sort of...joke. Yes, he was conceited and totally ignorant when it came to socializing with members of their society, let alone members of their society's opposite sex. And she would make him pay.
Yes, not-so-eighteenth-century-style-revenge would be sweet.
A/N: REVIEW!!! i didn't slave over my keyboard for hours on end for you to just skim and run! be kind and help inflate my poor, suffering ego! Review, people!!! 'Till next time, those of you dedicated enough to review! Those who aren't, well, a curse upon you and your melons! bwahahahahahaha!
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