#trotskyxlily

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Straight Eye for the Queer Girl: Episode 1: A Girl Schemes and Dreams

I have no excuses, only words, and a haunting idea that would not go away but doesn’t actually deserve to be made into a story. 

The premise: For whatever reason, Wizard Trotsky and Ginny are still going at it in a sixth year that’s remarkably similar to Harry Potter’s sixth year in Hogwarts, but in the “Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus” universe.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Tom finally said, and it was with a certain air of reluctance, as if he’d rather not say this but felt he had little choice otherwise. Ginny, of course, wanted to hit him.

Part of the trouble of having a voice in your head though was that you couldn’t hit him. Just like you couldn’t get rid of him or really do anything about him. Terrible as it was though, Ginny had kind of gotten used to Tom over the years. Oh, certainly the crush and idolization had faded, and there had been about a year of grumbling bitterness that nobody but Lily had even tried to do anything about it (not that she’d gotten much of a reward for her actions) but that in time had faded too.

Truth was, given a bit of time, Ginny realized that she and Tom actually had a fair bit in common. Well, not quite, they had one very specific thing in common. And, while at first it made her uncomfortable and then a bit hostile, being stuck in the same body having the same goal wasn’t such a bad thing.

Simply put: Tom Marvolo Riddle wanted Eleanor Lily Potter as much as Ginny ever had.

He also had a more intimate, well, perhaps a different understanding of her than Ginny did. Truth be told, thanks to Tom, Ginny had never gotten much of a chance to know her or to see much more than the golden image she presented. It was Tom who made it a point to know her inside and out, to see her heroism and nobility for what it was, and to call her only by her middle name with an almost heartbreaking fondness.

So, all things considered, by Ginny’s fifth year she didn’t consider Tom Riddle, her reluctant brother in arms, that bad of a source when it came to things like this. And it wasn’t like she could ask Ron on how to seduce Lily, but, still, that didn’t mean she didn’t want to knock his teeth out every now and then.

Ginny, on the train to Hogwarts, separated by several compartments from Default company and Ellie Potter (not that Lily was likely to be riding the train anyway, she’d probably show up in the middle of the feast sometime looking like hell itself was on her heels). This wasn’t necessarily great, but it gave Ginny some time to think and scheme.

“What’s wrong with my idea?” Ginny spat back.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with it, per se—” Tom started, which of course meant he thought everything was wrong with it.

“Look mate, we’re not doing too well. The Cedric thing, that whole Cho Chang thing from last year, that can’t happen again! At the rate we’re going Lily doesn’t even know we exist!” Ginny had just about died when, after showing up for every single Rebel’s Alliance meeting, she’d had to watch as Cho Chang asked for Lily’s personal help in creating a patronus. And with Lily’s lean body, her red curls, brushing over Cho’s shoulder Ginny had had to bite her lip to keep from spewing profanities that would make Fred and George blush while cursing Cho Chang into the next century.

“Oh, she knows,” Tom replied ominously, with that smug masculine pride which really was not helping their case. Because if she knew she sure wasn’t showing it, she’d spent the last three years barely glancing at Ginny or else looking sort of awkward about Ginny’s whole first year.

Which, Ginny got, it was a rough year for her two, but Lily could at least look at her!

“No, but she will know!” Ginny said, a grin growing across her face. She stretched, kicked her feet up across the bench in her compartment, letting the planned future sink in.

She’d already done good work over the summer in the burrow. Lily had shown up in the last few weeks, looking very uncomfortable with everything, and Ginny had made very sure that Lily knew exactly where Ginny was and where to find her.

And that those hours Ginny had watched femme fatales and sex icons in every major muggle film Tom could think of hadn’t gone to waste.

When Ginny smoldered, damn, she smoldered.

“I just don’t see how throwing ourselves at Dean Thomas will lead to anything productive.”

Obviously, it was going to make Lily extraordinarily jealous.

“Lily does not give a flying fuck about the likes of Dean Thomas.”

No, Ginny thought, now Tom was just willfully missing the point.

“Look, we did step one, right? Step one was getting her to notice us at home, notice that we’re bloody hot. Mission accomplished. Step two is to make her do something about it. She sees us in the arms of Dean and suddenly she’s all hot and bothered and realizes it’s because we’re all over this loser instead of her. She then punches his lights out, sweeps us off our feet, and we are done!”

And then, so to speak, came the honeymoon. Granted, Ginny didn’t know where exactly they’d go inside Hogwarts, they might have to sneak out or else find a broom closet or something but after five years Ginny was desperate enough to go for just about anything.

Including the likes of Dean Thomas.

Tom said nothing for a moment, silently brooding inside of Ginny’s brain, and then his smooth voice sounded once again, “As an admirer of a well-thought plan, I have to say Ginny, that I think we’re skipping over a few vital steps—"

“You’re just a chicken,” Ginny cut in before he could go on whatever eloquent rant he had planned.

“I am not a—”

“You’re just too scared to go making out with Dean Thomas, even for Lily,” Ginny said, and backed this up with the strongest mental image of a chicken she could muster up, one clucking its way in a hen house and looking as undignified as possible.

“Believe me, if it had a chance in hell of working I would be right there with you! As it is, we’re going to sunder ourselves with some Gryffindor blow-hard for nothing! I am not going to be trapped in the Hogwarts whore, Ginny!”

“Well, fuck you, Tom,” Ginny said, throwing her hands into the air and almost tempted to say it out loud, “It’s my body so we get to do my plan!”

Because he really didn’t have much of a choice these days, it generally took more effort possessing Ginny than it was worth, so he’d just have to sit this one out and go sulk when Ginny was proven right and he was proven a brooding loser.

And he was sulking already, disappearing into the back of her mind with a grumble that she never listened to him and this was just going to be so embarrassing, and that as soon as this failed they were going with his bloody plan whether she liked it or not.

Ginny simply stood, pleasantly smiled, and went off to find Dean.

 “You know, I feel like Dumbledore’s just specifically passing me over for prefect,” Lily said to Hermione, once again Default prefect while Lily remained lowly quidditch captain of Hogwarts’ far and away worst quidditch team, “It’s been five years now, you think I’d get it at least once.”

Hermione didn’t even spare her a glance, simply pinned on her prefect badge and made her way to the front of the train with Lily in tow (because lord help Lily if she was just going to sit in the compartment with Zabini and Greengrass), “It would help if you were responsible, and if you could manage to even finish one term.”

“My lack of attendance is in no way shape and form my fault.”

As usual, Hermione didn’t seem to buy that, even though it was very true. The forces of the universe, or Tom Riddle rather, conspired actively against Lily’s education. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d really missed anything important.

It was at that moment that she came to a sudden halt.

“Oh, Tequila,” Lily said, though it came out more of a curse than a greeting.

There, blocking their and almost everyone else’s path, was none other than fifteen-year-old Ginny Weasley eagerly sucking the tongue of some Gryffindor whose name honestly escaped Lily. Ginny’s eyes were half lidded, moved over towards Lily as if watching specifically for Lily’s expression watching whatever the hell this even was.

It was oddly reminiscent of those horrible few weeks where Lily had been kidnapped by Albus Dumbledore to slum it up at the Weasleys. There, every few hours, Lily would somehow find herself walking in on Tequila in various seductive positions and states of deshabille. She’d flutter her eyelashes, in a manner Lily believed was supposed to be read as sultry, and would extend a pale freckled leg towards Lily.

Her dark eyes would glitter in the half-light, and every gesture, every motion seemed to scream at Lily to come hither and fall into her arms.

It had, each and every time, felt staged enough to be a sex dream. Except Lily was never dreaming during these, and rather than being tempted, mostly felt this bewildering sense of doom and a need to leave whatever room she was in very quickly.

Which, in fact, was what she was about to do right now, “Right, bye, Hermione.”

And Lily turned right around and left Tequila and hapless victim number one to their procreational activities.

“New plan,” Tom said as Ginny forlornly tore herself away from Dean long enough to watch Lily disappear back into a compartment, “We murder Cho Chang.”