RP: To the victors belong the spoils

[shh_arabella]

Date: 7 July 2005
Characters: Arabella Figg, many others (will add later)
Location: Stoatshead Hill Quidditch pitch
Status: Semi-private (open to all pairs from the end of the BBBB race)
Summary: The racers and the people whose bonnet they captured have their own picnics around the Quidditch pitch (or elsewhere if they wish)
Completion: Incomplete

Comments

[shh_ginny]

"I was and my classmates took the mickey out of me every chance they could, mucking about with the words too quickly for me to remember. It didn't help that my classload was insane so I spent a lot of time with the little German/English dictionary out." She laughed. "In Dusseldorf, for the holiday, they had little stands out on the streets so you just bought a mug at one end and then left the mug at another stand later on. I've no idea how they worked that but it was great at Christmas time when a friend took my out shopping."

Ginny frowned, tilting her head to the side in confusion, not quite understanding why he was blushing until he spoke and then feeling awkward to have made him uncomfortable. "I'm not but feel free to ignore me. I spoke without thinking and I don't want to muck up your lovely picnic."

"It might be nice to look at but with three heads all thinking different things and being poisonous, wouldn't it be dangerous to have around if you couldn't understand it?" She asked, curious and a little concerned. "I wouldn't want to see you in a professonal capacity, Greg."

"The last thing I want is to understand what Godric is saying. That sodding prat's looks are more than enough to get the point across, especially when he clearly thinks I've done something daft - which is often, or worse - like the other day, when he fell into the tub when I was in the shower. Merlin! You'd think I'd made up a devious plan to get him wet." Ginny shook her head in exasperation, then sighed. "Sometimes I don't even get those answers. If one of the patients... most of the time, the family doesn't want any intrusive procedures and even when they do, it's not always clear."

[shh_greg]

Greg laughed. "The first time I did farm visits I found that the translation charm had a bit of trouble with some of the thicker accents out in the sticks. It was just as well that by then I'd picked up enough of the language to figure out what they wanted. We did do a bit of pantomime though."

He ducked his head and chewed on his lip for a moment before coming to a decision. "No, I'm the one who should apologise," he said sheepishly, looking over at Ginny. "You know what I was like at school. I started acting like that when I was about seven or eight, I guess. I wanted to annoy my Mum and acting like my father was a good way to do it. I did it at a party and for the first time nobody asked me questions about what I was going to do, whether I was looking forward to Hogwarts or anything. They just patted me on the head, gave me some sweets and told my father I was a chip off the old block. I kind of liked not getting the questions and as I got older, my Mum sort of encouraged me to keep doing it."

He hesitated for a moment and gave her a sober look. "The Dark Lord fought harder for intelligent followers than the stupid ones and Mum knew that. I didn't and thought it was just a game at first. By the time I got to Hogwarts it was just... second nature and then with Draco and everything with the Dark Lord, I just... was stupid and decided that keeping up the ruse and following Draco's orders was... easier."

He shook his head. "But anyway... the reason I mentioned all of that is, well, for a long time my Mum was the only one who thought I was worth anything or thought I was handsome and funny." He shrugged. "Get told your a stupid lump enough times and you start to believe it." He swallowed hard then smiled shyly again. "I wasn't... offended or anything by what you said. It just surprised me. I liked it. I like that you think that. I... like you."

He ducked his head and hoped like hell he hadn't just put his foot in it in a major way. He cleared his throat and took a swallow of his beer.

"Oh, I'm going to be careful with her," he said wryly. "That's why I got Potter to come down and talk to her before I did anything. I won't do anything that she's unhappy about."

He slowly smiled. "Godric, eh? Nice name. Should I suggest getting another cat and naming him Salazar? Or maybe I should do that since I'm the Slytherin here?" He paused for a moment. "Hmm, might have to get Shadow's approval on that one. She might not want to share me."

[shh_ginny]

"You'll have to demonstrate that for me sometime, the pantomine." Ginny laughed, trying to imagine the tall wizard doing that.

She listened quietly, simply absorbing what he was saying, how he sounded, without thinking of what she could say to make the situation lighter. Ginny couldn't help the shivering bristle that came hearing him refer to Voldemort as the Dark Lord, trying to supress the slight queasing of her stomach at the term. When he finally paused, she wanted to talk about the dozen or so things that she'd grown up with as well, wanted to relate some type of similiarity to make him feel more comfortable but the words died on her lips. There wasn't enough similiarity. Her family had fought against Voldemort and people like his father for longer than she'd been alive and her parents never encouraged her to be anything less than what she wanted.

"I think sometimes I give the wrong impression when I call him Tom. Most folks think it's because of what he did to me but it isn't. I remember when I was little, really little, like 5 or 6 and I asked my Da why they called him 'He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named' and Da said names can be powerful. But then, after he wrote to me in his diary, I realized - names do have power. So I've called him Tom. Because Tom is like Greg or Ginny, you know. It's power but it's not fear. I'm using the power of his name to keep him right where he belongs - no stronger than anyone else, even in memory." Ginny said quietly, unsure why she was confiding this to him, shifting to sit and folded her legs out before her, drawing them up and wrapping her arm around her knees.

"I wouldn't say that I was afraid of you in school, but I wouldn't have wanted to be in the dungeons and run into you then, at least not without my wand. But things change. People change." Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she looked up to meet his stare. "You are funny, in a smart way and I like it. I like talking to you." Ginny smiled sheepishly, feeling the color rise in her cheeks. "I'm glad you do. I... ummm, I rather like you, too."

Taking a drink of her beer, she gave him a curious look. "Does she usually mind sharing you?"

[shh_greg]

Greg nodded thoughtfully at Ginny's words about names. "I know I shouldn't call him the Dark Lord," he said quietly. "You're right. It gives him a power he shouldn't have, especially since he's dead. It's habit, I suppose. Father enforced that name, usually by threats, occasionally with his fists."

He settled down on his side, resting his bottle on the blanket and turning round and round with his hand. He stared down at the bottle for a long moment then looked back up at Ginny. He wasn't quite sure how they'd ended up in these confessions but he didn't feel as self-conscious as he thought he might have telling Ginny this.

"I was terrified of him... of Voldemort," he said soberly. "My father promised me to him. That was what was meant to happen in the summer after my Sixth Year. I was meant to become a Death Eater. It was the last thing I wanted. Father sent me an owl in that April, telling me it would happen within a couple of weeks of me getting home. He said I should be proud, that the Da... Voldemort didn't accept many so young. That he'd vouched for me."

He laughed mirthlessly. "I didn't know what to do or who to turn to. I didn't know who I could trust. But the day after my father's letter, I got one from my Mum. She said she knew what was happening and she'd find a way to keep me safe. She did everything. Got some money together, organised false papers for me, the apprenticeship, passage to Europe... everything. About a week after I got home, I was gone again. I don't think I ever relaxed though... not until I heard he was dead. I was always looking over my shoulder, wondering if he'd come for me."

He gave Ginny a wry smile. "I don't know... you were pretty good with that Bat Bogey Hex and I wasn't that quick with a spell back then. Still aren't but I'm better than I used to be." He watched as she blushed and couldn't help but think she looked beautiful like that. Hell, she looked beautiful without the blush too. He slowly smiled. "Jalo was right. He said I needed to go back and face my past. Guess I'm doing that right now. Kind of like it... quite a lot actually."

He chuckled. "Depends on the person actually. She's a pretty good judge of character. If she doesn't like someone, there's probably a reason. If I remember correctly, she liked you." He decided that maybe this was the time to be a little cheeky and grinned at her. "I'd ask her if she'd share me with you but she doesn't like flying very much and when I pulled my broom out this morning, she gave me a very grouchy look and curled up on my bed again."

[shh_ginny]

Watching him shift and stretch out, she had a sense of instinct, that subconscious tickle in her thoughts that made her feel as if he were actually speaking of his father, not Voldemort. She very nearly reached out to put her hand on his arm when he spoke of his mom, knowing that tiny crinkle in the corner of a person's eye that came from thinking of a painful memory. Ginny'd seen that a great deal in the time she'd begun her Healer training and it took her that thought-filled millisecond to halt her movement, unsure of whether or not he'd welcome it.

"You miss her." It wasn't a question and once the words were off her lips, Ginny blinked, not quite understanding why she'd said it but she continued, keeping her tone normal. "I miss my Dad. Mum, she's... different now."

Ginny chuckled, joking lightly. "Still am but I think you are pretty safe with me. All that Healer care mumbo jumbo, you know. Thou shall not unleash tickling feathers upon others no matter how much they deserve it. It went something like that, I think."

"Yeah, she did seem to like me, didn't she?" She arched an eyebrow at his teasing, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. "I don't know if you should ask her though. Wouldn't that be something I'd have to ask her?" Ginny glanced over at his broom. "Did you fly over here?"

[shh_greg]

Greg nodded and sighed. "Yeah, I do. She was... a wonderful woman. Really courageous to stand up to my father and the Da... Voldemort like that."

He wasn't quite sure what to say. He'd never met Ginny's parents but he'd seen them at the station sometimes, especially her Mum, fussing over her children and usually with Potter in tow.

"I guess... I guess death does that," he said quietly. "Especially if you love them. When I heard Mum had died, I knew I couldn't go back to being the way I was. She wanted me to be something better and, for her sake, I had to do it."

He relaxed into a smile. "You mean no Canary Creams or Puking Pastilles at twenty paces then? Though I think it was all Gryffindor girls we have to watch out for. As Draco could tell you, Hermione's got a mean right hook."

H's smiled broadened. "Yes, she did and I think you're right. You would have to ask her that for yourself." He followed her glance then looked back at her and nodded. "Yeah, it was such a nice day and it was great to get back in the air again. I don't get much of a chance to fly these days."

[shh_ginny]

"S'okay you know, to miss 'em. It's just part of remembering and there's nothing wrong with that. Your mum, she must have felt like you were on the right track and safe," she said softly, not for the first time grateful that her parents had broken with traditional pureblood customs like arranged marriages. Ginny was fairly sure she'd want to slit her wrists if she'd been forced to marry someone like Crabbe or Flint and the fleeting thought made her shiver. "I'm sure she is very proud of you."

Grateful for his more light-hearted smile, she smirked. "I'm pretty sure I could get the twins to make some Canary Creams for me if you really want to be a glutton for punishment," she laughed. "I heard about that. I'd have given up every chocolate frog I had to have seen the look on his face."

"It is, isn't it? Turned out quite lovely, it did. I don't get much of a chance either but I'm going to start making the time," Ginny glanced up, a soft smile on her lips. Looking back at him, she thought about what he'd said, the light flirtation, wondering if it were all just fun or if he was going to take it further. After a moment, she banished her empty beer bottle and, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, said. "Great day, great food... great company. Not sure I could ask for anything without risking lightening striking me. I should probably stop monopolizing you though and head over to the hospital."