Trouble Brewing

Fang hurled himself against the inside of Hagrid's door almost before Ginny could knock. Tom jumped.

"It's all right," Ginny explained, pounding more vigorously in case Hagrid hadn't heard her. "Fang might knock you down and lick you, but he's never bitten anybody, that I know of."

"That's reassuring. What if he decides to start?"

"Stop worrying."

The door opened slowly, Hagrid hauling Fang back out of the gap. "Ginny! Good ter see yeh --" He blinked. "Tom Riddle. Haven't seen yeh around here much."

Tom attempted a smile and wished Ginny would get on with it.

"Well, come in, then. I'll make tea...." Hagrid trailed off. "Somehow I don't think yeh came here because yeh wanted ter pet Fang, Tom." Which was what Ginny was doing, having already entered.

Fang leapt out from under her hands as Tom came through the door. Tom was flat on his back before he knew what had happened, and quite convinced he was about to die until his face was thoroughly licked.

"Ackpth!"

"Actually, we wanted to ask about working with some of the Magical Creatures... creatures outside class," Ginny replied calmly. "Fang, get off him. Tom, don't open your mouth when he's doing that."

Tom staggered to his feet, wiping his mouth, as Fang backed off. He hadn't realized dogs were capable of producing that much slobber.

Fang flopped down on Ginny's feet and rolled over on his back, which forced her to back into the table but, Tom thought, demonstrated one of his intrinsic problems with the whole class.

Hagrid looked from one student to the other, then fixed his gaze shrewdly on Ginny. "What yeh mean," he said, "though I'm not sure as yeh know it, is that yeh actually like the creatures, and Tom's hoping yeh can keep him out o' trouble like yeh did today."

"Uh, actually, sir, I was just thinking about doing extra studying in the library. Ginny was the one that suggested the, uh, hands-on experience."

Hagrid sighed windily. "If yer instincts are like that with all the creatures, I'm afraid yeh'll get hurt in extra sessions."

"I think a little more practice could help a lot," Ginny spoke up determinedly, then grinned. "You're right that I like them, though. Most of them, anyway."

She didn't think Tom would particularly appreciate her announcing to Hagrid that a lot of his trouble with the class -- aside from lacking certain information and instincts -- stemmed from a lack of confidence. Which was a rather odd conclusion regarding Tom Riddle, though by this point she was fairly certain of it, even after only the one Magical Creatures class.

On the other hand, it might have to come up. And it wasn't completely unlikely that Hagrid already knew this.

"I know yeh do." Hagrid patted her shoulder with a huge hand and turned his gaze inexorably on Tom. "Maybe we better give yeh time ter speak for yourself."

Tom gulped. "Well... I won't pretend today went well. But I think... I'm mostly doing it to myself. I did all the reading, but when we actually got out with the creatures, I froze. A-and I wasn't sure Ginny was right about scheduling extra practice, but she was right about the chameleons. And about other stuff. And I don't want to fail. So." He gulped again. "If Ginny says practice will help, then I trust her. And I'd like to give it a try, if you'll let me."

"If it's gettin' out there with the creatures that gets yeh, then the only thing that will help is more practice," Hagrid said, less harshly than Tom would have expected. "I know yeh know the book part." This did not seem to carry much weight, however.

"It'll probably help that everybody isn't watching, too," Ginny remarked quietly.

Tom shot Ginny a grateful look. "I think it would. A lot of the other students... well, sometimes I think they want me to fail."

"Probably," Hagrid admitted readily enough. He sighed and looked between them again. "Yeh can do the extra sessions if yer both careful." He looked straight at Ginny. "Real careful."

"Thank you, sir. I will be."

Ginny nodded. Hagrid turned to study Tom for a long moment. "Yeh were older when I first met yeh. I liked yeh all right then, though." This was delivered with regret and puzzlement, but no apparent rancor.

No matter how deep it cut.

Tom winced, but kept silent until he and Ginny had gotten out of earshot of Hagrid's cottage. Then he groaned. "Is there no one he didn't do horrible things to?"

"...Probably?" Ginny sighed and patted Tom's arm lightly, not quite sure if he might object. "But you didn't."

"But what if I will?"

"You get to choose, don't you?"

"I hope so. I don't want to hurt my... my friends."

Ginny smiled at him. "So don't."

Tom smiled back, weakly. I hope it's that easy.

"I admit it's... not... exactly reassuring that the other one was such a charmer," Ginny added after a moment, in a low voice, "or that my judgment was that bad. But... based on the whole... thing there, I think if it's a mistake they'll... let you come back. And if you don't want to then it wouldn't be on purpose, would it."

"...That's true, it wouldn't." Tom contemplated the idea for a moment. "Odd how that makes me feel better. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Ginny wasn't quite sure being a gullible little idiot was an idea that made her feel much better, but she supposed it was better than being deliberately evil. And perhaps Tom would be harder to trick.

She still could hardly believe there had been no one permanently hurt.

Tom's stomach growled suddenly. "Huh. You know, it's probably almost dinnertime. We should get back. And I'm not just saying that because I skimped on lunch."

Ginny squeaked slightly and glanced up at the darkening sky. "We should. Why'd you skimp on lunch?" As tempting as Hogwarts food usually was, it was rare for a student who wasn't ill or severely upset not to fill up.

"Wanted to get back to studying up for Magical Creatures, much good though that did me. Besides, I was right across the table from Crabbe and Goyle, and watching them eat would put anyone off their appetite."

"Oh dear." Ginny contemplated Draco Malfoy's pair of shadows and made a face, then thought of something. "Tom... if you don't like the creatures, why are you in the class? Apparently there was all sorts of fuss about getting a special session set up for second-years at all... of course, you'd have missed that...."

"I thought that was odd. Figured it was an advanced class, or something, and...." Tom waved his hand vaguely. "I figured if it was, I should take it. That's the sort of thing I did la -- er, my first year. And , well, I'm too stubborn to quit. What was the fuss about?"

"Mostly that we don't usually start electives until third year, unless you count clubs. I heard Snape humiliated Lockhart in Dueling Club last year," she added irrelevantly. "I almost liked him for a few minutes. But Hagrid's new at teaching and, um, the previous Care of Magical Creatures professor had lost some limbs, I think...."

Tom blinked. "I hope Madam Pomfrey was able to get them back on all right. So if it's that dangerous, why the special session?" Backtracking, he added, "Oh, I think I heard about that. Snape's probably... pretty dangerous in a duel."

"Apparently all he did was disarm him. Although Malfoy conjured a snake at Harry. And Care of Magical Creatures isn't nearly as dangerous if you go about it properly. Charlie says so."

"...Malfoy conjured a snake at a Parselmouth?" Tom shook his head, then ran through his mental list of Weasleys. "Charlie's... the one who works for Gringotts? No, wait, sorry, the one who studies dragons. Well of course he'd think so. Family talent."

"Bill's the one at Gringotts," Ginny said automatically, then blinked. "Nobody knew Harry was a Parselmouth until then. And how'd you know what my brothers do?"

"Harry told me. He thinks very highly of your family."

"Oh." No, there was no reason at all for the idea of Harry cataloguing her brothers for Tom to make her want to blush. Really. This combination hero-worship/crush was really very inconvenient. At least she'd stopped spilling porridge over it. "Mum had a fit the time Charlie brought a baby one home," she added, somewhat at random. She glanced over at the sunset again and quickened her steps.

"'Baby dragons eat almost constantly, chew anything within reach, and have yet to learn control of their flame ducts,'" Tom quoted absently. "I should think she would."

Ginny gave him a startled look. "What did you do, memorize the textbook?"

"Um. Well, I was really nervous about the class, and I figured it was that or ask for help." Tom coughed. "Seems kind of silly, in retrospect."

"I'm sure," Ginny replied diplomatically, "that it can't have hurt. But are you sure you weren't supposed to be in Ravenclaw?" She grinned.

Tom rolled his eyes, grinning back. "Oh yes, I have nothing better to do with my life than sit in the library. No thank you. Studying that textbook gave me the nastiest paper cuts you've ever seen."

"Vicious, isn't it? Gives a whole new meaning to bookbinding."

"Gives me a whole new appreciation for Muggle books. Boring, lots of them, but at least they sit still."

Ginny laughed. "Well, yes..."

"What sit still?" a very irritated voice asked from the doorway they were approaching. "What's so funny? Ginny, where have you BEEN? Oh, no, not you again."

"Nice to see you too, Ron," Tom said dryly.

"Be nice, Ron." Tom felt somewhat pleased to realize that the admonition had come from both Harry and Hermione, although Hermione sounded oddly frazzled.

"We went to see Hagrid," Ginny replied, fairly composedly. "And Muggle books. Sit still instead of trying to bite your hands off, that is."

Hermione peered at her through the dusk, looking rather puzzled. "Well, of course they do. So do most magic ones, for that matter."

"Not the Care of Magical Creatures textbook. I just took the last bandages off yesterday."

"Oh, that one." Hermione shook her head. "Speaking of biting, hurry up. Dinner had already started when we went looking for you."

Tom's stomach growled again, as if on cue. "Right. Guess we lost track of time."

Ron looked at him rather dubiously. "Right."

"Why were you going to see Hagrid at this hour?" Harry asked with interest as soon as they all got back indoors. He hadn't thought Tom was quite getting along with Hagrid yet, and this sounded promising. He hoped.

"Oh. Well, that was Ginny's idea, to help me pass Magical Creatures. We went to ask if she could supervise some extra credit sessions for me."

Harry blinked. "Ron said you were in the library earlier...." What he wanted very much to ask was "When did she stop flinching at your shadow?" but that didn't seem quite tactful, especially with Ginny there, so instead he wound up with, "Ginny supervises Magical Creatures?"

"Well, she does now. That was Hagrid's condition on, uh, letting me anywhere near his pets."

"Oh." Harry glanced sideways at Ron before yielding to the temptation to add, "No giant spiders, right?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so... should there be?"

"No." Harry could practically feel Ron glowering at him. "There's a colony of them in the Forbidden Forest, though. Don't go looking; they almost ate us, but the car chased them off."

"The car." Tom's tone spoke volumes. "You'll have to tell me that one later. If we're much later for dinner, though, Crabbe and Goyle will have eaten everything."

"They've never managed it before," Hermione remarked airily.

"Not that they haven't tried, of course," Ginny added gravely.

They could hear the noise of the Great Hall by this point. As they reached it, Tom waved to the Gryffindors and jogged over to the Slytherin table. "I'll see you later, Ginny. Thanks again."

Ginny waved back. Most of the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables and a good portion of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stared at the new arrivals in astonishment.

This was, all things considered, understandable.

"What," Rensington asked Tom incredulously, "were you doing with them?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Ginny's helping me with some classes. Finished your laundry yet?"

"A Slytherin needs help from a Muggle-loving Gryffindor?" Draco drawled. "Sad day." The sarcasm drained out of his tone and expression as he got a good look at Rensington's face, which was as splotchily pink as his robes had been. He appeared to have changed in the interim.

"A Slytherin makes the most of the opportunities he finds, Malfoy," Tom retorted coldly. "Unless you've got a better idea on how I can pass Care of Magical Creatures."

"Unbelievably stupid class," Malfoy muttered. "It's absurd that they let that gamekeeper teach it, not even a real professor. Rensington, I realize it's a bit menial, but other than that the word 'laundry' shouldn't really cause you to break out."

"Accident on the field, I believe," Tom answered for the speechless Rensington. "Pass those rolls, Goyle, I didn't get a full lunch."

The basket of rolls thumped down beside Tom's plate with enough force to bounce three of them into the air. He caught one, watching Rensington out of the corner of his eye in case of a sudden lunge.

"Grass," Rensington growled hoarsely, as if having difficulty speaking, "is not... PINK!"

"No," Malfoy replied slowly, looking somewhat disconcerted. "Not usually, no. Riddle, what on Earth did you do to him?"

"I didn't do a thing, Malfoy," Tom said, spreading butter on his roll. "Whatever happened, I can only conclude he brought it on himself."

"He's glaring at you and babbling about pink grass. Are you quite sure you didn't drive him insane for some reason?" From his tone, it was unclear whether Malfoy regarded this as treasonous, fascinating, wildly beyond what a half-Muggle should be capable of, or all of the above.

"Stress, possibly. Hagrid gave us a particularly hard time this afternoon. Is that roast beef?"

"No, gargoyle ears," Malfoy replied exasperatedly. Tom decided this was what passed as a joke for Malfoy, and took three slices anyway. "Anyone bitten?"

"Only my handkerchief. Chameleons."

"Chameleons gave you a hard time?" Malfoy shook his head disgustedly. "Second-years."

"Mm. Most people were running around and startling them. Once you know the trick, they aren't that difficult."

"Do you charm them to keep them from blending?" The person who had just chirped was a very small first-year girl. Most of the rest of the house was hoping she really was clever enough to be a credit to Slytherin, as so far her main talent appeared to be resembling a hummingbird. Tom personally suspected that she was very sensibly taking advantage of being puppyishly cute to get herself underestimated.

He smiled at her, hoping to pre-empt any scorn from Malfoy and his cronies. "Wish I'd thought of that, honestly. The way I was shown, you either feel around for them or wave something they can't blend into easily. Which is how my handkerchief got eaten, actually."

"A most tragic casualty," Malfoy put in, straight-faced.

******

"How did you get suckered into that?" Fred was asking his little sister.

Ginny rolled her eyes, stabbed a vaguely ear-shaped slice of roast beef, and replied patiently, "I'm not being suckered into anything. I'm helping. I like Care of Magical Creatures."

"Well, sure, but...." Fred spread his hands expressively. "Tom Riddle, Ginny?"

Next to him, George leaned forward. "If he's giving you a hard time, we've got this new fake candle we've been wanting to test. The Waxblobbinator."

"He's not giving me a hard time." She lowered her voice. "We shouldn't've come in together, though. Maybe with Harry there it'll be all right, but now that I'm not scared of him anymore we have to make sure Snape doesn't stop making us work together."

Fred and George raised identical eyebrows. "I know that tone of voice," Fred said. "What're you two cooking up? Maybe we can help."

George nodded, but added, "And since when aren't you scared of him anymore, anyway? You used to come out of Potions white as a sheet."

"Well... today, really. I helped him with the chameleons in Care of Magical Creatures, and we talked. He's... nicer than I thought." She blushed and poked at her dinner with a fork. "I should've thought about it sooner, you know. Anybody else, especially a Slytherin, would've done something nasty to me for all the times I've ruined potions or spilled things on him so far."

George sat back. "Well, if he does give you a hard time, remember you've got us to back you up."

Fred leaned over and poked her playfully. "Come on, though, what's the big secret from Snape? We've been aching to take him down a peg ever since the mudwort incident, but there's been no chance."

Ginny prudently looked as casually around the room as possible, making sure Snape was at his own seat, then smiled demurely. "Ask Colin for pictures after next week's lessons."

"A whole week?" Fred looked crestfallen at the prospect. "Well, it had better be good." Across the table, Hermione sniffed. "Is that why you wanted those potion books, Ginny? I hope you aren't going to get into any trouble. Professor Snape is unpleasant enough already."

"...It'll just be a little more to make up for." Besides, if they did it correctly the whole thing should look like an accident.

George grinned. "Spoken like a Weasley. We were beginning to think we had another Percy on our hands, Fred and I were."

Ginny's mouth twitched. "Perhaps Tom's a bad influence." And she couldn't believe she was joking about that.

*****

The wart cure was notably uneventful. Ginny looked almost as miserable and skittish as she always had throughout the rest of the class, which drew strange looks from the students who had happened to see her and Tom studying together during the previous week. Snape expressed caustic surprise when he discovered that they had nonetheless completed the potion accurately and with no odd substances staining the desk or floor.

Naturally, he awarded points to Slytherin. Ginny looked anguished and resentful and kept her eyes away from Tom, who was looking very angelic and somewhat smug. She was afraid she might laugh.

The following week, after an intervening theory lecture, they had the much-anticipated Laughter Potion. Snape assigned her to work with Tom again, and Ginny tried to remember not to hold her breath waiting for the slug-slime.

"Cherry pits," Tom remarked absently, "and grape seeds. I keep half-expecting the cauldron to sprout."

Ginny sprinkled the mingled seeds carefully into the cauldron. She didn't have to fake her hand trembling this time.

The next ingredient was the slug-slime, which Tom very realistically fumbled as he reached to pick it up, slopping a good portion of it onto her hand.

Ginny promptly shrieked. "Yuck! Riddle, that's revolting!"

She actually felt slightly guilty about the complaint, even though it was planned. Tom had been much nicer about having things spilled on him than anyone could really be expected to act. Resignation, perhaps.

"What seems to be the trouble, Weasley?" Snape's voice whipcracked from across the room. "Is the lesson too much for your delicate sensibilities?"

Ginny tried to scrape slime off her hand onto the edge of the desk and half-threw the measuring scoop at Tom, who caught it and applied an appropriately-sized dollop of slime to the cauldron. The contents turned pink and purple, which was what they were supposed to do.

"No, just my partner," Ginny snarled under her breath.

"Oh, I like that," Tom snapped. "Grow up. After all the crud you've poured on me...."

"You're slimy to begin with!" Ginny brought both small fists down on the desk, not hard enough to jostle the cauldron.

"Children," Snape purred, striding over toward their desk, "if you cannot control yourselves in class, I'm sure I could find alternate means of motivation."

Tom watched Snape approach in his peripheral vision and pretended not to hear him. "If you think for a minute," he said heatedly to Ginny, "that I'm going to put up with --" On the word 'up' he swept his arm sharply across the desk, eyes fixed on his partner rather than on the cauldron or their professor.

He felt the impact that sent the cauldron flying off the desk, and slammed his own hands down on the surface before falling silent as if just realizing what he'd done and turning to look.

Snape stood as if frozen, pink and purple liquid soaked into the front of his robes and dripping off the tip of his nose. There was a deadly silence, as the class collectively held its breath and Snape turned steadily more purple. Then, like a tree slowly cracking, then crashing to the ground, it happened. Snape began to laugh.

Colin's camera clicked madly. Ginny and Tom both stood as if Petrified, trying not to laugh themselves. Ginny was also desperately hoping that the two clicks she had heard before and during the spill would be disregarded. Colin HAD, after all, had the prudence to drive everyone mad making a photodocumentary of all their classes this week.

With jerky, spasmodic motions, the professor pulled a vial out of a robe pocket, uncorked it, held it up to his nose, and inhaled the contents with a sharp sniff. Slowly but inexorably, his laughter subsided, but his glare remained, piercing Tom and Ginny where they sat.

It took some time for the snickers of the rest of the class to wear off. It did not, however, take long. Just because the glare was not directed at them didn't mean it had no effect.

For a few seconds, the classroom was deathly silent.

"Twenty points, Miss Weasley, from Gryffindor, for disrupting the class," Snape said unsteadily. "Fifteen from Slytherin, for clumsiness and temper. A minor commendation, Mr. Riddle, for successfully completing the potion. Both of you, however, are to report to Filch for detention after your classes for the day." He turned, spearing the rest of the class with his glare. "And the rest of you, back to work!"

He stalked back to his desk, then hissed, "The next disruption will not find me in nearly so lenient a mood."

There was a flurry of small motions and tiny plopping sounds as the other students returned to their potions in mingled shock, nervousness, and glee. Ginny rubbed at her slimed hand and tried not to look at anybody, especially Tom or Colin. Hopefully Colin would put his camera away before Snape looked his way again.

One Slytherin pair's cauldron spouted a small electric-blue fountain, which fortunately failed to escape. Other than that, none of the other potions did anything particularly exciting.

Nobody, however, found this particularly disappointing.

*****

"It worked! Ginny, that was great!" Colin was practically skipping when he caught up with them, safely out of the Potions dungeon and well away from Snape's hearing. "I can't believe you two! ...I can't believe Snape didn't confiscate my film, but he was too busy glaring at you."

Tom snickered a bit hysterically. "I thought he was going to turn us into something awful," he said. "Did you see the way it dripped off his nose?"

"I," Colin replied smugly, "got a picture right when the drop was about to fall."

Tom shook his head, grinning. "I'm going to be in so much trouble when I go back to the Slytherin dorm. And then there's our detention. Still... I'd do it again in a second. The expression on his face!"

Colin looked at him curiously. "You know, I can't imagine pulling something like that on Professor McGonagall...."

"Well, of course not. She's scary. And also honest, which is worse -- by rights, I should've gotten more points taken off than Ginny, I was the one who actually spilled it on him. When Professor McGonagall punishes you, you know you actually deserve it."

"That was fairer than I was expecting, actually," Ginny murmured.

"Yeah, I think that was his way of being even-handed. We're going to have to work something out so I can see those pictures when you get them developed, Colin."

"We will." Colin grinned and glanced around; Tom followed his gaze and realized he was surrounded by highly amused Gryffindors. Come to think of it, that probably was safer for him, at the moment.... "For that we might get away with sneaking you into the common room, at least if it was just before the password was supposed to change."

Ginny choked on her own laughter at that.

Tom stumbled a step on the smooth floor, but caught himself quickly. "Uh, well, if you're sure that'd be all right."

"We'll check. If that won't work we can always find someplace else." Ginny grinned at Colin. "Make lots of copies."

"Believe me, I will."

Ginny rubbed at the slime on her hand, now dried to a slightly tacky silver, then chuckled and lifted it to show Tom. "Hmph. Your color."

Tom blinked. "My color?"

"Silver. At least nobody got dyed green today."

Tom laughed. "Yes, well. At least that'll wash off. Rensington's still trying to redye his robe."

"Are you serious? He hasn't gotten anybody to un-set the stains yet?"

"Get someone else to do it? A Slytherin?" Tom chuckled. "In a word, no. You should've seen Malfoy when he finally weaseled out the whole story."

"Oh really? What did he do?" Ginny's eyes sparkled eagerly. "And can you tell me fast enough we won't be late for our next classes?"

"Well, let's just say Rensington was this far away from sporting a second set of stains."

"How unproductive."

Tom snorted. "Object lesson, I think was the intention. Incentive."

"Pink grass-stains aren't enough incentive by themselves?" Ginny sniffed in mock indignation. "I think I'm insulted."

"Malfoy's only impressed by himself, you know that."

"Low standards," she remarked sweetly.

Tom laughed. "I replaced him as Seeker, remember? You'll get no argument from me."

"And I bet he's still mad." She glanced at a hall clock with a cassowary instead of a cuckoo. "Better get to class.... See you in detention."

Tom grinned ruefully. "Won't that be something to look forward to."

*****