The Scarlett Letter

A/N: Yes, I'm back again, this time with the 6^th chapter of The Scarlett Letter. This isn't even half the length of Chapter 5, but I posted it more quickly, so I don't have to apologize. I don't think any fanfiction author should apologize for a short chapter (unless it took them three months to post), simply for the fact that some chapters will be long and some will be short, and that's just the way it goes.

Oh, and one reviewer pointed out that the British A Clockwork Orange doesn't have a glossary. Just pretend like they got an American edition, er, somehow. :p That edition doesn't have the 21^st chapter, either, and (just like Kubrick) I like it better that way. I looked it up online (being in America myself), and while it was good, it sort of squelched some of the open-ended moral discussion that the story elicits without it.

Anyway, enough rambling. On with The Scarlett Letter!

Disclaimer: If I get the rights to this, I'll be the first to tell you. Until then. . .

Chapter Six

Standing Up

Dear Scarlett,

Heck yes, I'll be there! Saturday is the day I've been looking forward to more than any other in my entire life! You're the greatest!

With all my love,

Zacharias

~~~~~

Dear Scarlett,

You bet I'll be there! I can't wait to meet you!

Love,

Vincent

~~~~~

Dear Scarlett,

Sure, I'll be there. Thanks for the offer.

Yours truly,

Draco

~~~~~

Dearest Scarlett,

I love you so very much. I about cried with joy when I read this. This is our chance to show everyone how much we love each other. I will most definitely be there, my love.

Oh, and can you please send me a new copy of your 4^th issue? Only I came over the last one during Transfiguration class, and McGonagall took it away.

From the one who loves you with an undying adoration,

Gregory

**********

Professor McGonagall called for an extra staff meeting on Friday afternoon. So at 3:30 the Hogwarts professors stumbled into the staff room, nearly brain-dead at the end of the school week. Flitwick looked especially hard-done-by, and he slumped into the seat next to McGonagall with a look of defeat saturating his features.

With the arrival of Dumbledore, the meeting began. McGonagall straightened herself in her chair and began speaking. "I called this staff meeting today so that we may once again discuss the problem that has been threatening our school for the past two weeks."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Which problem would this be?" he asked calmly as a forebodingly mischievous twinkle sparked in his eyes. "I suspect it has to deal with Roger Davies' consistent request that we buy new school brooms? I suppose that is serious enough to call an emergency staff meeting."

McGonagall's nostrils flared. She considered replying with a scathing comment, but controlled this errant urge and answered in a voice of fading patience, "That is not why we are meeting her today. Our problem is with Scarlett. She is a menace to this entire school!"

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore said. "That's nearly as bad as our current broom situation."

McGonagall nearly lost her patience again, but managed to steady her voice as she said firmly, "She should have never made her way into this school in the first place!"

"What has she done this time?" Madam Pomfrey asked hesitantly.

"She has sent her demons to possess this entire student body!" McGonagall said. "And now all our students have gone crazy!"

"My dear Minnie, I do believe you're exaggerating," Dumbledore said lightly.

"Oh, am I?" McGonagall said coldly. "Then how do you explain the fact that the entire female population of this school is serving their first day of a week-long detention with Filch BECAUSE THEY DID A MERLINFRIGGING NUDE PHOTO SHOOT!?!"

Dumbledore decided to let her creative expletive slide and instead corrected her. "Not all the girls are in detention," he pointed out. "Miss Weasley and Miss Granger escaped completely unscathed."

"You know what I mean!" McGonagall barked furiously.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Hmmm. Yes, most unfortunate. Is this an, er, isolated incident?"

"Isolated?" McGonagall shrieked, "ISOLATED?! You don't want to know what Goyle did in my class yesterday!"

"Yes, I do," Dumbledore said calmly.

McGonagall cringed. She had planned on taking Goyle directly to Dumbledore after the embarrassing incident in Transfiguration, but the headmaster had been in a very important meeting with the school governors as the time. And now that the incident had passed, she suddenly didn't feel like relating it in front of the whole staff.

"Yes, I do," Dumbledore repeated, his tone prompting McGonagall to reply.

"No, you don't," McGonagall rejoined.

"But I do!" Dumbledore said, smiling even wider. "Please tell the truth."

"Okay, you do want to know, you sick old man!" McGonagall snarled.

"That's better," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "So. . . what did Goyle do?"

McGonagall mouthed at him for moment, looking remarkably like a goldfish. Then she gasped out, "It was something very disgusting which doesn't bear repeating."

"But I need to know," Dumbledore said. "How can I correctly gauge the seriousness of this situation if I don't know what's happened?"

McGonagall ground her teeth together. Why did Dumbledore have to be so nosy? "Okay, he did. . . something with his magazine."

". . . something with his magazine," Dumbledore repeated. "And what do you mean by 'something'?"

"I mean something very gross!" McGonagall retorted.

"Which would be. . ."

"HE CAME OVER THE FRIGGING THING, FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!" McGonagall cried out at last. Then she huffed and sank back into her chair.

The teachers giggled. Dumbledore didn't bother to hide a smile. McGonagall fumed in silent fury.

"So what do you propose we do?" Dumbledore said.

"We stop this whole business," McGonagall said cantankerously. "We ban the newsletter and punish anyone who reads it."

"But we already agreed that wouldn't work," Dumbledore pointed out. "You'll have to think of something else."

"You mean we'll have to think of something else!" McGonagall said furiously. "I shouldn't have to do this by myself!"

Dumbledore neither agreed nor disagreed with her correction, but waited for her to make another suggestion.

Which she did after a moment of thought. "We'll write Scarlett," she said at last. "And we'll tell her to stop send her newsletter to Hogwarts."

"That sounds more reasonable," Dumbledore said. "You will write the letter, then run it past me so I can make sure that it's appropriate to send to Scarlett. We are not allowed to threaten her; she is only an artist trying to scrape out a living, even if she has a rather unconservative method of achieving this goal."

McGonagall snorted with disgust, but agreed grudgingly to Dumbledore's terms. Then she sank back into her chair as the rest of the teachers left. . .

All the teachers except for one other.

Flitwick remained in his seat with his head in his hands. Curiosity slowly dispelled McGonagall's anger, and she leaned forward in her seat to get a better look at the tiny Charms professor. It looked like he was crying.

"Is something the matter, Filius?" she said at last.

"Yes," he mumbled brokenly in his arm. "Verity hates me."

"But why?" McGonagall asked him. She leaned closer to him.

"Because I asked her out," Flitwick replied.

"Because you asked her out," McGonagall repeated. "She hates you because you asked her out?"

Flitwick gave a dry sob before he admitted, ". . . Because I asked her out one too many times."

"Oh," McGonagall said. "Oh. Well, I'm sure she doesn't hate you. She's just. . . annoyed. It'll be okay." And she patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. And she rubbed him on the back. And she stayed with him for another fifteen minutes to offer him condolence over his failure. She wished it could have been longer, but she had left off her grading for far too long as it was.

**********

Meanwhile, the girls were not having a fun Friday afternoon. McGonagall had given Filch dominion over the entire lot of them, much to his eternal delight. He had now gone into a frenzy and was determined to clean the entire castle from top to bottom before the week of detentions ended. Which was why every girl in Hogwarts was spread across its entirety, burdened with a broom, a mop, a rag, or some other cleaning supply.

Pansy, Parvati, Romilda, Eloise, and Luna were unlucky enough to be assigned a particularly nasty dungeon. Pansy was in charge of the mop, Parvati and Romilda held scrubbing brushes, and Luna and Eloise collected the refuse and rinsed everything away.

"What in the world lived in here?" Parvati complained as she slathered Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover across the wall.

"Whatever it was, it left behind a load of shit," Eloise said as she scooped some into the Bottomless Trash Bag she held in her hands. "This is disgusting."

"Urg," Pansy moaned. "This is humiliating! I'm a student, not a servant!"

"Doesn't make any difference to Filch," Parvati pointed out sourly. "I'm sure he'd much rather nail us to the wall if he had his own sick way."

"No doubt," Romilda sighed. "Ugh, McGonagall has a cruel streak almost as bad as Filch. . . which is probably why she assigned us to him."

"At least it's during the afternoon," Luna commented mildly. "So we can still have fun this evening. You said the Slytherins were having a party tonight, Pansy, didn't you?"

"Yes," Pansy said glumly. "But it's still no fair! Nothing is going right for us! We didn't even release the frigging pictures! But Scarlett still got to release the fifth issue of her stupid newsletter. The whore."

"I know!" Eloise complained. "I had this really good photo of me where one of those studs was kissing me is such a position that he was hiding all my pimples. It was really sweet, and I actually looked good in it!"

"Don't worry, you look beautiful all the time," Romilda assured her. "You took a boy up to the Astronomy Tower, didn't you? You were talking about it last week."

"Yes," Eloise admitted. "That's true. But maybe it's only because I have good breasts."

"It could also be your vibrant personality," Luna bolstered mildly. "You are truly a charm when you aren't worrying over something."

"Thank you," Eloise said, giving Luna a pathetic smile. Then she wrinkled her nose as she gathered up another mound of poop and scooped it into the bag.

"So who was the boy?" Romilda asked the pimply Hufflepuff.

"Oh, just someone," Eloise replied airily.

"One-night stand?" Parvati said, quirking her eyebrows.

"No, I'm still meeting him," Eloise said evasively.

"Two-night stand?" Parvati pressed.

"No, it's not like that!" Eloise said quickly. "We're together, sort of."

"Then who is it?" Parvati said, fully engrossed. Pansy even looked up from her blackened mop and listened curiously.

"Oh, it's no one," Eloise said quickly. "Actually, he's not no one. He's a person. But he's a secret. In fact, he's going out on a date this Saturday at Hogsmeade, because we still aren't, er, official."

"He doesn't have to be a secret," Parvati said with a disarming smile.

"I don't know. . ." Eloise said slowly. She looked truly unwilling to reveal the name of her unofficial boyfriend. "You guys might think it a bit. . ."

"A bit what?" Parvati said disarmingly. "Don't worry, we won't mind."

"Look!" Luna suddenly cried. The other girls jumped and stared. "It's a shape in that lump of poop at your feet, Pansy! It looks like. . . like a boy."

"A boy?" Pansy asked her. "What in the world is that supposed to mean?"

"No, it's a boy standing on a sock," Luna continued. "Isn't that strange?"

Eloise leaned forward eagerly, glad to have escaped the last thread of conversation. Pansy stared down at her feet. "I don't see anything," she said after a moment.

"The boy looks like. . . it can't be Draco, can it?"

"Ugh, let's not talk about that churl," Parvati said.

"I agree with her," Pansy said sourly, and pushed her mop towards the pile of poop.

"No, wait!" Luna cried out as she stayed the Slytherin's arm. "It's that other one--Goyle. Okay, that's all I see. You can mop it up now."

"So it was Goyle standing on a sock," Pansy said patiently as she wiped away the mound of defecation.

"I know," Luna said. "Isn't that strange? I wonder what it means?"

"Ooo, is this like Divination?" Parvati said eagerly. "I've never heard of reading poop lumps, but maybe there's something in it. It could be a bit like tea leaves."

Luna crossed over to another splotch of poop. "I see a woman in this one," she said. "And there's a money bag next her, then a man on the other side."

"A woman stands for grace and gentleness," Parvati told her, "and a man represents strength and integrity. The money bag is a windfall. So it obviously means that you'll do something graceful and gentle that'll get you a lot of money. Then because of it, you'll become strong and honest."

"No, I don't think that's it," Luna corrected her serenely. "It's much simpler. The woman represents Scarlett, and she's stealing money from a man."

"Ha!" Pansy said in disgust. "You don't need Divination to figure that out! How much did she say she got, Parvati?"

"She said he newsletter has earned her 100,000 galleons," Parvati said bitterly. "She splashed it across the second page of her newsletter, the braggart." And she scrubbed away the splotch that stood in front of Luna.

"Wait, there's one last poop pile over here," Luna said eagerly. "And. . . wow. I swear that's a veilabat. See, those bits of blood-flecked carrot look a bit like a red bikini, even. You know that veilabats make men fall for them, then throw them away. Some man is obviously going to be betrayed by the woman he loves. Isn't that strange. . ."

And she scooped up the pile and dropped it into Eloise's trash bag.

**********

Gregory himself had detention with McGonagall that afternoon for his incident in her Transfiguration class. She made him scrape the gum off the bottom of all the desks without magic. Then he had to clean the desktops and disinfect them. McGonagall wanted to see her reflection in the desks. But, since they were made of wood, it took two hours before McGonagall approved of his effort.

Gregory left the classroom in a hurry, eager to get back to the common room. The Slytherins were having a

party tonight, and he planned on having fun. Maybe he could hook Draco up with another girl. God knows

Draco had been very dour ever since his break-up with Pansy.

No, wait. . . Draco was dour since before he broke up with Pansy.

Inspiration hit Gregory like an uncommon flash of lightning. Maybe he's in love with someone else! Wow, that's so cool! I have to figure out who it is.

It was 6:30. The party was in half-an-hour. Gregory headed down to the Great Hall for a light dinner, and as he reached the Slytherin table he saw that Draco sat all alone, staring moodily at his plate of roast lamb and asparagus. If anyone looked depressed, it was definitely Draco.

Gregory took a seat beside his friend. "Hey, Draco," he greeted, "how's it going, mate?"

"Wonderful," Draco answered sarcastically. "Can't you see my smile?"

"No," Gregory said, a bit slow on the uptake. "You aren't smiling."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Draco said dully, slumping even farther into his food. "Now go ahead and rub it in."

"Why would I do that?" Gregory said. "You're depressed. What's the use of depressing you even more?"

"Geez, you really know how to comfort a guy," Draco said moodily.

"I have it all figured out," Gregory said, ignoring this last comment as he scooped himself a generous portion of shepherd's pie. "You are in love with somebody."

"Hell no," Draco said, though without any feeling. He glanced over at Pansy and Daphne, then at the Gryffindor table.

"And I'm going to figure out. . . going to figure out who it is. . ." Gregory said, his voice trailing off. He had seen Draco glancing at Pansy and Daphne. At first he thought his friend was looking at his ex-girlfriend, but then he realized something--

Draco must have been looking at Daphne!

Draco's in love with Daphne! Gregory told himself. I knew it! Actually, he hadn't, but he still wanted to give himself some sort of congratulatory comment.

But I'd better not push it right now, Gregory told himself. I'll wait for a little bit. Like until the party. I have a wonderful plan! But to pull it off, I'll need someone's help--a girl's help!

And, after a quick dinner, he skipped off happily to the common room, perfecting his plot in his head. He reached his dormitories at 7:00 and promptly began rooting through Draco's trunk. After five minutes he found what he was looking for. Then he went into the bathroom and prepared for the party.

After straightening his robes, washing his face, and combing his hair, Gregory was ready for the party. He left his dormitories and entered the Slytherin common room. The place was bedecked with green and silver banners. Five tables had been pulled together to hold the food and drinks. A large punch bowl in the center of the spread let out sparks from its shimmering turquoise surface. On a large coffee table a group of second-year Slytherins were playing Exploding Snap. On the other side of the room the older kids had taken their own pack of Exploding Snap cards and were gambling. Half of them were cheating.

"Looks promising, doesn't it?" Pansy said as she appeared at Gregory's shoulder. She wore a sleeveless top with a V-neckline that jutted down into her ample cleavage. Her pants looked silky and smooth, and they molded themselves against her legs in a most flattering manner. She had given her smooth black hair a slight curl, and it spilled over her shoulder in a lustrous river.

Wow, she's hot, Gregory thought as he stared rather openly at her breasts. "Yeah, it looks promising," he rasped. But wait--I love Scarlett! I'm not supposed to be looking at Pansy!

But Pansy didn't seem to mind that Gregory was ogling her. In fact, she seemed quite pleased with herself; a trace of a smile curved her soft lips.

"Pansy?" Gregory said, shaking his head to clear it of lustful thoughts. Remember Scarlett, he told himself. Remember Scarlett. She's the love of my life. "Pansy, I need help with something."

"Sure," Pansy said, a little suggestively.

"I--I need some photos of Daphne."

"What?" Pansy took a step away from him, her smile gone. She looked none too pleased.

"It's for a plan I have," Gregory explained. "You see, Draco is madly in love with Daphne."

"What?" Pansy repeated, now looking merely confused. "That's news to me."

"I just figured it out," Gregory said. "But Draco's obviously been pining after her. He's so depressed nowadays, if you haven't noticed. And I'd rather see him happy again. So I'm hooking the two of them up."

"Oh," Pansy said. "Oh. Okay. Um. . . so why do you need photos of Daphne?"

"To show to Draco," Gregory said. "See, I have a bunch of photos of his here with me now--" he pulled out a small stack and handed it to Pansy--"and I plan on showing them to Daphne."

"Wow, he's half-naked it most of these pictures," Pansy said, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, those are the pictures he took that he didn't send to Scarlett," Gregory said. "He keeps up the appearance of liking her, but I get the feeling he couldn't care less. He's obviously madly in love with someone else, which just happens to be Daphne."

"Hmmmm," Pansy said. She was still very mad at Draco for breaking up with her like he did, but she thought that maybe it was time to get over it. And to prove that she no longer cared about him: "I'll help you. I have some great pics of Daphne that'll blow his socks off."

And she swept off towards her dormitory. Gregory's gaze glued itself to her bum as she disappeared from sight. Gosh, she had a hot bum! No, I love Scarlett! Gregory told himself sternly. She has a hot bum. I have a date with it tomorrow. I can't let other girls have any effect on me! I love Scarlett. I love Scarlett. I love Scarlett. And on the mantra went.

Pansy returned ten minutes later with a handful of photographs. Most of them showed Daphne at the beach in a bikini. The others showed her in a variety of revealing dresses at a variety of black-tie events.

"Wow, these are perfect," Gregory said. "I'll make sure he sees them."

"Wait, we can't rush into this," Pansy said quickly. "We're Slytherins; we have to plan this out perfectly."

"I thought I did have it planned out perfectly," Gregory said, a bit put off at the comment.

"Maybe you did," Pansy said, "but you also need to consider execution. If you go about it the wrong way, even a perfect plan can become a disaster."

"Okay, okay," Gregory said quickly, a bit peeved. "So when do we make our move?"

"Let's soften them up a bit first," Pansy said. She dragged Gregory off to the punch bowl. Then, reaching under the table, she pulled out a large jug of Firewhisky. "I was planning on spiking the drinks anyway," she said as she uncorked the jug and emptied it into the bowl. When the last wave of whisky glugged into the punch, she pulled out another jug of alcohol and poured it into the punch bowl as well. She reached down for a third jug when Gregory stopped her.

"That's enough," he said. "You don't want them stumbling all over each other."

Pansy relented and put the last jug of Firewhisky back under the table. "Then we're ready. You take some punch to Draco and I'll take some to Daphne. Then, once they're relaxed, we'll show them the pictures."

"Perfect," Gregory said. "Thanks." And he filled two cups with punch--one for Draco and one for himself--then took the photos of Daphne from Pansy. He headed over to a couch by the fire, where Draco sat amongst a group of fifth- and sixth-year Slytherins.

"Hey, Drac," Gregory said. "I got us some punch."

"Wicked," Draco said, taking the goblet from Gregory with both hands. He sipped it gently as he stared into the fire. Gregory sat beside him and began drinking his own punch. On the other side of the room he saw Pansy talking with Daphne. The latter was drinking the spiked punch, just as Gregory and Pansy had planned.

After a few minutes Draco seemed to relax. In fact, he was almost smiling. "Can you get me another glass of punch, Gregory?" he asked.

"Sure," his friend replied. "I'll be only a moment."

And he skipped happily off to the punch. He met Pansy at the rim of the bowl, and they both dipped their cups into the blue liquid. "How's it going so far?" Pansy asked Gregory in a whisper.

"Great," Gregory replied. "He seems almost cheerful, which is saying a lot, considering the past few days."

"Daphne's loosening up, too," she said. "This second glass should be enough for her. You might want to get Malfoy a third glass, though."

"Okay," Gregory said. But instead he simply took a large cup and filled it to the brim. He considered keeping his own cup, but then discarded it for one like Malfoy's. When both glass were full, he took them back to the table.

"You're the best, mate," Draco said with a bit of a laugh as he began gulping down his next glass of punch. "You know, you were right."

"About what?" Gregory said.

"About me being in love," he said. "'Cause I am."

Gregory just smiled.

"But I'm not going to tell you who it is," Draco said, "because it's a secret. A big, big secret. She'd never go out with me."

"I wouldn't be too sure," Gregory said with a smile. "Life is full of surprises."

Draco finished his punch a moment later. Deciding that his friend was sufficiently tipsy, Gregory pulled out the photos of Daphne. "Hey, Drac, look at these," he said.

Draco took the pictures and looked at them. For quite some time he was silent as he examined the photos. Then he looked up. "They're good," he said, his words slurring just a tiny bit. "Great, in fact. Where'd you get 'em?"

Gregory smiled a secret smile. "I have my connections," he said mysteriously. He looked across the room and saw Daphne gazing at the photos of Malfoy.

"Perhaps you should go talk to her," Gregory suggested.

"Not when Pansy's around!" Draco insisted, lodging himself deeper into his armchair.

"Don't worry, Pansy's getting up right now," Gregory said. "See? She's going to the gambling table near the entrance to the boy's dormitory." And indeed she was. She was also signaling to Gregory, her face split in a smile.

Gregory stood up and left Malfoy. He then hastened over to Pansy and said, "Was it a success, then?"

"Yes!" she said happily. "Daphne loves the pictures. See, she's getting up to talk to Draco now."

"We did it!" Gregory said, pleased with himself. "Now that Draco has his girl, he won't be depressed anymore!"

Pansy smiled sadly as she watched Daphne speak to Malfoy in the middle of the room. "I wish I had my own man," she said softly, looking up at Gregory.

"What?" Gregory said, looking back at her.

And Pansy leaned up and kissed him on the lips. Gregory's heart stopped beating and didn't start again until they drew away from each other.

No! I love Scarlett! Gregory told himself sternly. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Pansy's. She responded with an even greater fervor, and she pulled him away from the gambling table and down into hallway of the boys' dormitories.

I'm in love with Scarlett! Gregory cried out to himself as his tongue traced Pansy's jawbone. I'm in love with Scarlett!! They stumbled past Blaise, who was currently entwined around a tiny third-year. Then Pansy and Gregory were in his dormitory.

I'M IN LOVE WITH SCARLETT!!! Gregory cried out in his head. His lips found the cusp of Pansy's shoulder as his hands traced her waistline. She let out a moan of delight and let her own hands run themselves across his chest.

NO! I LOVE SCARLETT!! I LOVE HER!! Pansy reached forward and pushed Gregory's robes from his shoulders, where they floated into the darkness. Gregory pushed the straps on her shirt from her shoulder.

No. . . I love Scarlett. . . I love Scarlett. . . I love. . . And he could no longer hear the voice in his head. Maybe it was the Firewhisky clouding his sense, but his brain stopped its protest. In fact, his brain seemed to have dropped from his head and into his groin. Strange how these things happened. . .

Pansy unbuttoned Gregory's shirt and pushed it from his body. He let it slide to the ground as he worked her shirt off her breasts. He gave a gasp of pure lust as they spilled into his hands.

Their shoes and socks flung themselves in the darkness a moment later as they furiously tried to strip each other of their pants. Gregory buried his face into her cleavage as his fingers worked blindly at her zipper. It came undone, and he pushed the silk from her legs. She removed his pants and boxers in one go, and soon the two of them lay sunk against the floor, both naked.

Gregory then pulled her in for an open-mouthed kiss as they stumbled towards his bed. They gasped against each other as they allowed their bare skin to meld together. Gregory's mind was reeling; he had totally forgotten Draco and Daphne. . . and Scarlett.

Then it happened. Just as they reached the foot of Gregory's bed, he slipped on a sock. The second the cloth came in contact with his skin, he gave a tremendous heave, and a wave of vomit hurled itself up his throat and into Pansy's mouth.

Pansy screamed through the mouthful of throw-up. "EWWWW!" she cried as the chunks fell from her teeth. She herself suddenly became weak in the stomach at the taste of Gregory's vomit. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" she screamed through a mouthful of clumps.

"NOTH--" Another wave of vomit interrupted his words--"NOTHING!" He was crying. What had happened? One second they were kissing each other; now they stood five feet apart from each other, both splattered in chunky barf. Where had it all gone wrong?

Gregory's crying became a wail, then a bawl. Why did this have to happen? WHY? Pansy was still spitting chunks from her mouth when he flung himself on his bed and beat his fists into his blanket as he vomited. He hated whatever fate had cursed him with such bad luck. Here he was about to get laid for the first time in his life, then an upchuck attack had to come along and ruin it all.

By the time Gregory looked up Pansy was gone. He sat alone in his room, naked in the midst of a small, discolored river that poured from his mouth and down his bed. Then Gregory saw the puce sock.

"FUCK YOU, VINCENT!!!!" He shrieked at the top of his lungs. His words filled rapidly with another mouthful of vomit. Tears poured in rivers down his face and into the chunks that spewed from his mouth. An unbearably long string of lumpy mucous hung from each nostril and grew longer all the time.

Then his head sunk into his hands. He realized now what the vomit meant. It wasn't a hex mingled with bad luck; it was a sign.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett," he whispered as throw-up streamed from his lips. "I'm so sorry. I've failed you."

**********

Gregory awoke on Saturday morning, however, with a fresh resolve. He had nearly had sex with Pansy the night before--nearly. But it hadn't actually happened, and it wouldn't happen again. From now on he'd take advantage of this second chance to remember that he belonged to Scarlett. And that would be that.

Having figured all this out, Gregory was quite looking forward to his date at Hogsmeade with his one true love. He dressed with particular care that morning. He put on his best shirt and a pair of dark pants. Then he pulled a scarlet jumper over his head and secured his midnight-black cloak firmly around his person. Then he wrapped a scarf around his neck to match his jumper. Afterward he spent half-an-hour taking care of his hair, only to cover it up with a silver snowcap and earmuffs. Then, after reviewing his appearance one last time, he left his dormitory.

Butterflies had already taken lodging in his stomach when he reached the Slytherin table in the Great Hall for breakfast. But he felt optimistic all the same as he scooped two fried eggs, two pieces of buttered toast, and four link sausages onto his plate. This was his day with Scarlett, and nothing would mess it up.

He couldn't help noticing that Vincent, Draco, and Zacharias Smith also looked jittery and excited. They, too, were eagerly looking forward to their date with Scarlett. For a moment Gregory felt sorry for them, but he quickly pushed the feeling to the back of his mind. Scarlett loved him, not them. Draco, Vincent, and Zacharias didn't matter to her; Gregory was the only one in her eyes.

By golly, he'd live up to that or die trying.

At 10:00 that morning the students began the walk to Hogsmeade. It had started snowing early in the day, and the snowflakes were large and biting. The wind was strong and icy against Gregory's skin, but he pressed on, knowing what lay ahead at the Three Broomsticks.

Gregory had nearly two hours of free time before his date. He spent only thirty minutes at Zonko's, however, before heading to the Three Broomsticks. And there he stood, waiting in the cold for his true love, Scarlett. He hardly noticed the wind and snow; the warmth in his heart spread throughout his entire body and kept the icy elements completely from his thoughts.

Long about 11:30 Vincent arrived at the Three Broomsticks. Zacharias came along at 11:45, and Draco appeared two minutes before noon. None of the four boys did much talking as they waited for their date. Gregory couldn't help but smile. Scarlett was going to ignore his friends and take him into the pub, leaving the other three boys behind in the freezing cold.

Twelve o'clock arrived. Luna came by with a stunningly handsome, brown-haired young man, and she kissed him playfully on the cheek before they headed into the warm pub for a meal and some butterbeer.

Five minutes passed. Vincent and Zacharias began looking worried. Draco began tapping his foot impatiently in the newly-fallen snow. But Gregory wasn't yet concerned. Scarlett was probably waiting for effect. Maybe she meant to get the other three boys agitated before she crushed them by walking away with him.

"What are you doing here?" Vincent asked Draco at long last.

"I'm meeting a date," Draco said simply.

Gregory hid a smile and decided to play dumb. "Is it with Daphne?" he asked. "You two were talking last night."

"Talking?" Draco laughed. "We barely spent enough time together for us to return each others' photos to the proper owner."

"What?" Gregory said, sorry to hear his plan had failed. "Do you mean aren't hooking up with Daphne?"

"I don't know why you think I would," Draco said scathingly. "And I know it was you and Pansy who arranged the whole photo thing."

"No, we didn't," Gregory lied easily.

"Oh, shut up," Draco said carelessly. "What exactly drove you to do something so silly? It's not like I'm in love with Daphne. Ha, I hardly even like her!"

"You don't?" Only Gregory didn't say this, for fear of sounding dumb. It was a blow to his ego to realize that his assumption had been incorrect. Draco wasn't in love with Daphne after all.

But that left another question: if not Daphne, who?

At that moment Hermione and Ginny strolled up through the snow, laughing merrily to each other. They stopped short at the sight of the three Slytherins and the Hufflepuff lounging in the snow.

"Hi, Smith," Ginny said, her voice overly merry. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm meeting someone," Zacharias said proudly as his face split into a cocky grin.

"Ooooh, who?" Ginny said theatrically. Hermione giggled from behind her shoulder.

"Who else?" Zacharias said, puffing out his chest. "Scarlett."

Both Vincent and Draco gasped at this proclamation. The former whirled around to face the Hufflepuff boy and said, "You aren't going out with Scarlett!"

Gregory could barely hold back his laughter.

"Yes, I am!" Zacharias retorted.

"But you can't!" Vincent argued. "You just can't!"

Zacharias placed his hands on his hips. "Oh?" he said frostily. "And why not? Are you saying I'm not good enough for her?"

"No, I'm saying that you can't!" Vincent yelled. "Because I'm going out with her!"

"What?!" Zacharias exclaimed. "Like hell you are! She asked me out on a date today at 12:00 at the Three Broomsticks."

"No, she didn't!" Vincent cried. "She asked me out on a date today at 12:00 at the Three Broomsticks!"

Draco inserted himself coolly into the scene. "Look here," he said easily, "You both are clearly Confunded. She asked me out on a date today at 12:00 at the Three Broomsticks."

"NO, SHE DIDN'T!" Vincent screamed. "SHE'S MINE! YOU GUYS AREN'T TOUCHING HER!"

For the first time in their lives Hermione and Ginny had something in common with Gregory Goyle. Namely; they both were laughing at the scene the three boys were making. Gregory couldn't wait until Scarlett arrived and swept him away into the Three Broomsticks while ignoring the fistfight that was bound to happen sooner or later.

"SHE DOESN'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOU!" Zacharias shrieked back. "SHE'S MY GIRLFRIEND! WE'RE TOGETHER NOW, AND YOU GUYS ARE JUST JEALOUS!"

"Shut up, you idiots!" Draco shouted. "She's going out with me, and you two are just acting stupid!"

"STUPID, AM I?" Vincent cried. "TAKE THAT!" He flung his fist forward and missed Draco's cheek by a foot.

"Ha, not much to take!" Draco jeered. "You know you're wrong; that's why you're so angry!"

"I AM NOT FUCKING ANGRY!" Vincent screamed back.

"YES, YOU ARE!" Zacharias interrupted. "BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT GOING OUT WITH SCARLETT! SHE'S IN LOVE WITH ME!!"

Gregory couldn't keep from laughing any more. It was time to play his trump card. He stepped into the argument and said smugly, "Actually, all three of you are wrong. Scarlett wrote to me a few days ago telling me that she was going to invite the three of you out on a date at 12:00 at the Three Broomsticks. But she isn't going out with any of you. . . she's going out with me!"

The three boys paused as they stared at Gregory in horror. Hermione and Ginny giggled and ducked into the Three Broomsticks.

Then: "You're making that up!" Vincent said hotly.

"I swear I am not," Gregory said, feeling more superior than he had in his whole life (which wasn't saying much).

"YES, YOU ARE!" Vincent said. "SO YOU CAN GO TO HELL!" And he swung his fist at Gregory this time, and once again missed by a mile.

Zacharias took the opportunity to club Vincent across the back of the neck. "TAKE THAT, YOU FILTHY,

ROTTEN LIAR!" he yelled.

"ARGH!" Vincent yelled. He spun around and lashed out at Zacharias, but instead hit Draco in the nose.

"YOU IDIOT!" Draco cried as he slammed his fist over Vincent's skull. "WATCH WHERE YOU SWING THAT LUMPY LIMB OF YOURS!"

"YEAH?!" Vincent yelled. "THEN TAKE THAT!" And he missed Draco and hit Gregory on the mouth.

"Ow!" Gregory cried. "That was uncalled for! You guys are acting like first-year Muggleborns!" This said, he socked Vincent across the eye, who toppled over and knocked both Draco and Zacharias to the icy ground.

~~~~~

Hermione and Ginny, along with Luna and her date, had taken a window seat so they could watch the action. Ginny snorted into her butterbeer after each punch; Hermione didn't dare get near her butterbeer, so strong were her giggles.

"Wow, the filly-bugs must have really gotten to them," Luna suggested mildly as Gregory slugged Draco in the eye.

"They're acting like heliopaths," Luna's date suggested.

Hermione looked up at the brown-haired man, obviously surprised that Luna had found someone as loony as her.

"I'm sorry, I haven't introduced you yet," Luna said matter-of-factly. "Hermione and Ginny, this is David Banksbur. David Banksbur, this is Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley. They're my friends."

Hermione cocked her head to one side to get a better look at David. "How did you two meet?" she said at last.

"Promisks," David said immediately.

"Sorry?" Hermione said, confused.

"Promisks," David clarified. "The credit goes to them. We wouldn't have met if it wasn't for those clever beasties."

"Really?" Ginny said, apparently interested enough to ignore the escalating fight outside their window. "So what did the promisks do to you?"

"They made us take our clothes off," Luna explained easily.

Hermione nearly spilled her butterbeer. ". . . Um, I don't think I heard that correctly," she said quickly as a blush crept across her cheeks. "You obviously didn't say--"

"--that they made us take our clothes off?" Luna finished for her. "Oh, but I did say that. Perhaps you should check your hearing. I think the filly-bugs have been distracting you too much recently. First they make you fail a test, and now this."

"Tricky little blighters, those filly bugs are," David said. "You said that they did something last night to that Goyle kid."

"What did the filly bugs do to Goyle?" Ginny asked, leaning forward to take in the gossip.

"It was pretty awful," Luna said conversationally. "I heard it from Daphne, who heard it from Pansy. Apparently Pansy was trying to seduce Goyle at the Slytherin party."

"Poor Pansy," Hermione said sardonically. "I didn't think she was that dumb."

"She isn't too bad, you know," Luna reprimanded Hermione casually. "She's a bit. . . Slytherin, but so is everyone else in that house. It's because they're, well, Slytherin."

"But back to the story. . ." Ginny prompted her impatiently.

"Pansy was trying to seduce Goyle," Luna restarted. "And they nearly had sex, but then Goyle stepped on an enchanted sock and began throwing up all over her."

"Oh, poor thing," Ginny said, not entirely sincerely. She took another glance at Goyle, who was pulping Zacharias's nose. "And here he is, about to go on a date with Scarlett. What a hypocrite." She gave Hermione a very wicked smile, and the bushy-haired girl returned one of her own.

They all turned back to the window, outside of which Draco was escaping a wild uppercut from Zacharias. The blond Slytherin dodged away from the group. "Stop it!" he commanded, his voice floating through the glass. "This isn't worth fighting over!"

Zacharias and Vincent looked up at him in shock. Gregory quickly crawled out of the fray to nurse his bleeding nose. Vincent spat out a mouthful of blood onto the pristine snow and sneered, "Oh, I think it is worth fighting over!"

"No, it most certainly isn't!" Draco insisted. "Because Scarlett isn't here. She was supposed to come half-

an-hour ago! But she hasn't--she's probably sitting cozily at home, laughing to herself and preparing for her next porn shoot," he spat out the last two words. "It was all a trick, can't you see? And we were stupid enough to fall for it."

"Don't say that about Scarlett!" Gregory cried. "She would never do that to us!" But Draco was already marching away furiously as he repaired his numerous cuts with his wand.

The three remaining boys were silent for a moment. Zacharias stepped away from Vincent and began feeling at his own mangled nose. "Ow!" he hissed as his hand came away covered it blood. "Owowow!" He winced and looked up at Vincent and Gregory. "Malfoy has a point, you know," he said bitterly. "She hasn't come."

"Maybe she was in an accident," Gregory explained quickly, "or maybe something came up. I know she would never hurt us. . ." And, in his dull brown eyes, hung the unsure words: She loves me. . . she couldn't hurt me, not like this!

Ginny almost felt sorry for Gregory Goyle.

Almost. He had spent far too long ogling her and being a right jerk for her to feel much pity for him. Maybe this incident would do him some good--maybe it would teach him to grow up.

She smiled wryly to herself and turned back to her butterbeer.

~~~~~

The afternoon passed lazily as the snow fell thicker and faster. Luna and David went to a private corner to kiss. Hermione met up with Ron, and they soon disappeared to engage in a similar activity. So Ginny was all alone.

"I wish I had a date," she muttered to herself, knowing full well who'd be sitting across from her if she had her way. She stared out the window. Zacharias had left a mere ten minutes after the fight ended. Vincent waited silently with Goyle all the way until 2:00, neither of them saying a word or even meeting each others' gazes. Now, at 4:00 in the afternoon, Goyle was the only one left.

And so, to take up her time, Ginny began writing a letter. She followed this up by another one, then another, then another, until the gray sky became black. No student was left in the Three Broomsticks by this time.

Good gracious, I need to get back to the castle! Ginny realized as she glanced at her watch. It was already 7:00. She shoved her quill, ink, and parchment back into her bag and left the pub.

Gregory Goyle still stood at the door as tears froze in tracks across his black, bruised face. In his eyes dwelled a terrible hurt, as if his entire world had crashed in on him. And, to him, it had. His one true love had deserted him.

Not only had he failed Scarlett, but Scarlett had failed him.

**********

That night as Harry climbed into bed he found two letters on his pillow:

Hi, Harry,

I'm in the Three Broomsticks right now. Hermione and Ron are off kissing somewhere, so I'm taking this time to write to my friends. How are you?

I've started reading A Clockwork Orange, as you have suggested. It really is quite a good book, just as you, Hermione, and Luna all said. But we'd better make sure it stays out of Malfoy's, Crabbe's, and Goyle's hands. We don't want them to get any ideas from Alex and his droogs!

Speaking of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, I have a very funny story I need to tell you next time I see you. You'll be so proud of Scarlett after you hear about her; heck, you may even start to like her!

Have horrowshow dreams!

Ginny

~~~~~

Dearest Harry,

You haven't yet answered my letters. It's been nine days now. You must be thinking REALLY hard about me! Well, that's okay, just as long as you answer. I think you would really like my newsletter. Thank you very much for your time.

With all my love,

Scarlett

~~~~~

And, through some miracle, some poor owl made it through the snowstorm to reach Scarlett that evening with a very different letter:

Scarlett,

Okay, something's up with you. And something's very, very wrong with your pictures. Just like the other boys here at Hogwarts, I've been taking a close look at them. But, unlike my fellow peers, I notice some inconsistency. For one thing, your nose keeps changing shape, as do your ears and the slant of your lips. Heck, even your eyes change color. But, most suspiciously of all, your pubic hair changes color. I can see if you dyed your wonderful blond tresses, but NOBODY dyes their privates!

I can already guess what answers you might give me. You'll say that it's all magic and that you DID dye your pubic hair and change your eye color and nose and ears and lips, etc, etc, etc. And I'll tribute you this: maybe you did.

But I personally believe that there's something hovering beneath the surface. Everything we know about you is what you have told us. How can we trust that you're telling us the truth? You could be some 80-year-old freak-of-woman with white hair and wrinkles deeper than your common sense. I want you to prove to all of us that you are who you say you are. Come to Hogwarts in person, or else I'll tell everyone about my discovery.

Sincerely yours,

Roger Davies

A/N: Ha, I love cliffies. I can't figure out why fanfiction authors apologize for them, either. They're absolutely delicious to read AND to write (especially to write), and they keep both the author and the reader going.

Next chapter: More fun with the staff. Scarlett writes to Gregory, and we find that they have a lot to explain. Oh, and Gregory goes through more shit--literally. Roger makes a deal, and the girls try a second shot at the rumor business. Then there's the business with Draco's secret crush (uh oh) and Harry/Ginny happenstances. Oh, and Harry finally replies to Scarlett's letters.

Please, please review--I'll feel motivated to update sooner if you do!