DirtCatharsis

Chapter 5

The next midnight--blessedly the last before the Plan was to be executed, the sixth and seventh year women congregated in the Astronomy tower. Ginny was still incensed enough that she elbowed her way next to Blaise Zabini to have a word with Pansy Parkinson.

Parkinson arched a perfectly-shaped sable eyebrow. "Weasley," she said by way of greeting. "I heard about the snakes."

"Did you hear all of it?" She asked, a reflexive hand going to her hair, which she'd put in two thick braids pulled so tightly that her eyes watered. The style hadn't graced her head since age seven, but after an abbreviated night of waking up every ten minutes to the imagined feel of little squiggly, cold-blooded animals sharing her pillow, she couldn't bear the feeling of anything--even stray curls--moving on her scalp.

"Only Malfoy bragging about his over-inflated espionage skills at breaking into your common room."

Ginny's back teeth ached from grinding them together. And over Malfoy, of all people! Prat though he was, the fact that he didn't even notice her made her blindly furious. Harry never noticed her because she was his best mate's little sister. But Malfoy--he'd been right on top of her! In clipped sentences that didn't entirely disguise her insulted state, she told Pansy about her charge on the blond interloper. "So give over," she said. "Is he, or is he not, a whoopsie?"

Blaise snorted. Pansy threw her a look. "Shut it, Zabini."

"I wasn't the one caught in a half-nude snog in the broom cupboard with him."

"I said, shut it!" Color crept up Pansy's neck and settled firmly in her cheeks. "We were just having a bit of fun--"

"With Pucey there, too?"

"Yikes!" Ginny said.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Pansy muttered. "It was all the way back in Fifth year. Draco and I were a bit power-drunk and feeling it."

Ginny remembered Pansy and Millicent that year as special Hogwarts Inquisitors working for that she-troll Delores Umbridge. A little of her frustration eased when she remembered how Malfoy had gone completely off his nut, courtesy of her bat-bogey hex.

"It's ancient history," Pansy said, a faint red stain on her cheeks saying otherwise. "Pucey was a lookout."

"I doubt Professor Snape will forget it anytime soon."

"Shut it, already, Zabini!" Pointedly ignoring her housemate, Pansy fixed her dark-eyed gaze on Ginny. "So you want to know whether or not Malfoy's a ponce."

Ginny nodded.

The shorter girl's eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. "Fair enough. But I want to know something, too."

Ginny did not care for the gleam in the Slytherin girl's eyes. She folded her arms across her chest. Just then, a plastic-wrapped package hit her in the side of the head. "Ow! What gives?"

She turned around to find Eva Morales standing next to a cardboard box full of identical packages. "I thought we were in this together?" she said, with a hard look at Ginny and Pansy.

Pansy raised an eyebrow that said, this isn't over. Ginny shrugged back.

"Awright ladies," Morales said. "Mama sent these all the way from America, and she says to tell y'all good luck."

She tossed packages willy-nilly and Ginny looked down at hers. "I'll never fit into a size small," she said, shoving the package into Pansy's hands.

Pansy frowned. "Men's Muggle undershorts," she muttered. "Why on Earth?"

"Do you really want to risk ruining your school robes?" Morales asked. "Take these over to Megan Jones. She can show you how to charm the clothes."

"What for?" Ginny asked.

Megan replied from the center of the room. "Last time I served detention, I had to do it with both Madam Sprout and Professor Snape." A collective shudder went through the girls who were listening. Who could choose the lesser of two evils when caught between man-eating plants and poisonous potions? Megan continued, "I had to help them prepare ingredients for herbal skin conditioning potions." She wrinkled her nose. "I overheard them talking while I was grinding seaweed. Remember Gilderoy Lockhart's dream of marketing his own hair-care potions?"

Several derisive snorts passed through the girls surrounding Megan. Ginny's was one of the loudest. She never quite forgot that Lockhart--the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher of her first year--would have left her to die at the hands of a memory and her own foolishness. "What's that wanker got to do with anything?"

Megan smiled. "Apparently, Madam Sprout has talked Professor Snape into going into a similar side business with her. They're developing skin-care potions."

"Who'd buy a skin potion from that greasy git?" Parvati's mouth twisted into a grimace.

"Hey!" Tracey Davis said. "That's our head of house you're calling a greasy git."

"Besides," Luna Lovegood pointed out in a reasonable tone from behind her ever-present copy of The Quibbler, "They're skin-care potions, not hair-care potions." He faded, pale eyes appeared over the top of the magazine for a moment and flicked about. "Better for body control, you know. What else do you rub all over your skin?"

All eyes turned on Luna for a moment, but the strange Ravenclaw had already buried her nose back in her magazine.

Hermione stepped forward. "Professor Snape's sinister plots to control the world through skin care can wait for another night."

Megan waved her hand. "I've nicked the ingredients for a spa potion from the greenhouses. All we need to do is soak the clothes in the potion and anytime they get wet or dirty the potion will activate a spa treatment."

Parvati's expression softened. "Well. That's different."

"As long as you trust Professor Snape." Luna's voice floated from behind her newspaper. Ginny shared a look with Hermione. Neither one of them could fathom the odd girl's agreement in going along with the plan, but Luna had proven herself ably enough two years ago.

"Right," Hermione said crisply. "Who's on for nicking witchlight bowls from the greenhouses?"

Hannah Abbott raised her hand and motioned to two other Hufflepuff girls. "We've got that one."

"Tracey, Millicent?" Hermione made her way over to Ginny and the knot of Slytherin girls. She pulled a phial from the pocket of her dressing gown and handed it to Millicent. "You've got Care of Magical Creatures as last class of the day. Here's the sleeping draught for Hagrid. It's a Thursday, so he'll be making his tea in the blue cornflower china pot. It's premeasured, so all you have to do is tip it into the pot."

Blaise eyed the livid green potion. "Are you sure that won't just put him right out? It looks a lot like Somnolus potion."

"It's a modified version," Hermione said. "I've added a decelerant, so that instead of an instantaneous coma, Hagrid slips into a slow, dreamless, thorough sleep. And dreams of large women." She grinned. It was a mirthless, mercenary grin that forced Blaise to realize uncomfortably that whatever pratly nonsense she thought about Gryffindor boys and their ridiculously noble bravery and honor, Gryffindor girls had something altogether different.

The gryphon was half lion, half eagle, and Blaise suddenly remembered that a.) cats played with their food before killing it, and b.) birds had once been dinosaurs. Gryffindor boys might embody the disgustingly obtuse nobility that the lion and eagle symbolized, but these two Gryffindor girls seemed to embrace the inner Jurassic nature of these creatures. We're closer to each other on the evolutionary chain than we thought, she realized, shoving her hand into Morales' box and pulling out two packages in size Medium. "Granger, when this is all over, you and Weasley have a standing invitation into the Slytherin girls' dormitory."

"And you're welcome to climb to our tower," Ginny said. Lavender Brown gasped and shot her a look. Ginny shrugged and looked back at Lavender. "I'd rather have them than Malfoy's little pets. At least they have warm blood."

Padma Patil interrupted the scuffle that threatened to break out between Ginny and Lavender. "Save it for tomorrow, girls. Is anyone else thinking of wearing shoes?"

Ginny shook her head. "Only if you want to ruin a perfectly decent pair." Beside her, Pansy snickered. Hermione addressed a large group of Ravenclaws and Ginny moved to join her. She was stopped by a slender hand on her arm.

"I haven't had my question answered yet," Pansy said. Her tone was mild, but her eyes were sharp.

Ginny felt the first stirrings of trepidation underneath that gaze. "What is it you want to know?"

"I want to know why you care."

"Why I..." she trailed off.

"Whether or not Draco's a whoopsie," Pansy said. Her voice took on a hard edge. "He might be acting like a complete git right now, but he's still my friend."

She remembered the way Draco looked right through her. Like parts of him were missing. Chunks of time...or of memory. She shuddered, and when she returned her gaze to Pansy's, the other girl blinked. "Your friend needs waking up. Do you want to help me do it, or do I go it alone?"

Pansy put her head together with Ginny's, and the two girls began a low, intense conversation on which Blaise made no pretenses about eavesdropping. "Fascinating," she murmured to herself. "I had no idea Malfoy had a perverse streak in him. Or rather, I did, as he's Malfoy and all, I just didn't think it would be this." She wandered over to where Hermione Granger sat, discussing the particulars of a strong warding charm with Padma Patil, and pulled the bushy-haired girl aside for a short discussion. Padma listened for a moment, then went over to find her twin, a calculating gleam in her dark eyes.

Hermione listened, then gasped, putting her hand to her mouth and turning pink. "That's outrageous!"

"Hey, it was your partner in crime that gave me the idea," Blaise said, her tone a little edged.

Hermione looked at Ginny, who looked back and nodded. "Are you sure this is something that will grab their attention?" Hermione asked.

Ginny smiled. "I've got six brothers. There's so much porn hidden around my house it could fill an entire book case in Hogwarts library. I know what boys like." Not that it had done her any good with Malfoy.

Hermione's expression was doubtful but she nodded her head. "All right, Zabini, I'll go along with you on this one." She raised her voice to address the whole room. "Is everyone absolutely clear on your instructions? We have a lot to worry about with the witchlights and the wards."

"And being otherwise occupied with each other," Blaise said, dropping a sly wink towards Hermione.

"Blaise," Hermione muttered, "kindly remember our objective here. I'm trying to get Ron to ask me to the ball."

Blaise stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. "That doesn't mean we can't have a little fun, does it? Or is that the Gryffindor priggishness talking?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be a twit. It's my middle-class Muggle upbringing that's talking."

Blaise reached out and tweaked a lock of Hermione's hair. "Then by all means, let me help you with that," she said with a wicked grin.

Bloody hell, Ginny thought. We're all getting mighty cozy here, aren't we? She slanted a glance over at Pansy, who blew her a kiss.

Well, why not? This whole plan was about showing solidarity. She responded by slowly running her tongue over her upper lip. At least Pansy could appreciate her femininity.

* * *

In spite of the light, intermittent rain that turned anything not stone into thick, sticky mud, the oppressive heat continued to hold Hogwarts in an unrelenting grip. Tempers were high all around. Fights broke out in the halls with more frequency than usual.

Ginny had to work to keep her temper in check. It was a nearly impossible task as her eyes appeared to be magnetically attracted to the pale shine of Malfoy's hair wherever she went. She was disgusted with herself for remembering--in vivid detail--the way she'd jumped on him. Whenever he passed her in the hallway, her hand clenched involuntarily.

"Must...control...fist...of death," Blaise muttered to her as she passed.

She snapped after lunch. On his way out of the great hall, and without even bothering to summon a snide comment, Malfoy reached out and knocked the books from her arms. Papers scattered everywhere, and she noted her Potions homework acquiring several dozen footprints, which would surely give Professor Snape a warm and fuzzy feeling as he deducted points for each. She dove for it before careless feet could abuse it even further.

The immediate vicinity in the hall grew silent, expectant tension blossoming between the students that suddenly formed a ring around them--Ginny, kneeling alone and surrounded by her schoolbooks, and Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

Crabbe and Goyle snickered with the stupid, Cro-Magnon grunt-laughs that were by far their most intelligent sounds. She glared at them in turn, then turned her attention to Malfoy. She didn't trust herself to speak. She wanted to leap at him like she did two nights ago in Gryffindor tower. She wanted to hit him square in the chest with all the force she could muster. She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. She wanted to rip his body away from his poisonous personality and give it to someone who deserved to be good-looking.

"Looks like all's right with the world," he drawled. "A Weasley on bended knee before a Malfoy."

Her jaw worked soundlessly for a minute as blind fury raced through her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the restless fidgeting of their surrounding audience.

She caught Susan Bones looking at her. "Save it for tonight," Susan mouthed.

She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she grabbed the opposite cuffs of her robes, pulling her arms out of her sleeves. She wriggled and twisted, then finally shoved her arms back into her clothes and pulled something out of the one sleeve with her other hand. She rose to her feet. "Here you go, Malfoy," she said, tossing the bit of peach lace at him.

He caught it reflexively, his seeker's reflexes engaging without his brain.

She flicked her gaze to Crabbe and Goyle. "No one should have to walk around braless with a pair of boobs as big as those two."

With her head held high and her chest out--rather a bit more than usual, she pushed past him and through the milling crowd.