The lyrics of God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs featured in the chapter below were written by me. Do not steal them. The lyrics of the other song mentioned have also been written, but are not featured in this chapter.

I also must apologize for the lateness of this chapter.

If you would like to see the banner I made for this story, you can view it by clicking the link on my Author Page that says homepage.

Chapter Four:
Cupboards and Christmas Carols

The Garden
11:50 a.m.

I take it back. Henry is not in any way sweet.

You see, it's rather difficult to share a cramped space with someone (Something?) When they've decided to angrily knock you about for a bit.

And not just a bit, actually.

I suspected at first that the stupid blighter was going to ravage me, he came at me so quickly.

Which is disgusting.

Except for the fact that I don't think ghouls can ravage someone. Come to think of it...

Never mind. I've just made myself shudder.

Anyway, not veering off or anything...

The sodding thing started screeching at me. Or rather, it didn't screech, because ghouls can't screech (among other things). It just made this sort of loud... sound. Really unnatural, at least for ghouls.

I expect that Malfoy's goons have made similar noises before. Hm.

The Garden
11:53 a.m.

Bloody hell! Crabbe and Goyle are half-ghoul!

The Garden
11:54 a.m.

Er, anyway...

I think it started chucking stuff at me. I don't really remember. My head still hurts.

Bollocks, I just found a bruise on my leg! Or at least, there will be one now, seeing as a gnome just threw something at me. What was it, anyway?

Oh. Right. A rock.

The Garden
11:57 a.m.

I think I've just killed it.

The gnome, I mean.

I don't think I should throw rocks anymore.

It could just be unconscious, though, or sleeping. I might not have even hit it after all. Perhaps it's... er... What did Hermione call it? Narf...



Oh, sod it! Perhaps it'll have woken up by the time I finish describing what happened. Because I really want to finish. You know, about the ghoul?


See, I already had to explain it once before. Except that it was the revised version, seeing as I didn't want anyone to know what I was doing inside of the cupboard in the first place.

Well, actually, no, because I couldn't really remember.

Why was I in the cupboard? I ought to have written it down before the ghoul became intent on bashing my head in.

I wonder, does a cupboard turn into a haunted cupboard once a ghoul's shacked up inside? Or did the cupboard become a haunted cupboard only after I'd got inside? This is all very perplexing. But at least I'll have loads of rubbish to ask Hermione once the hols are over. I should make a list.

Later, of course. I've got to attend to the task at hand.

That being, of course, to recount my adventures in the haunted cupboard, subtitled as my unabridged masterpiece.

That's rather catchy, actually.

Ginny Weasley and the Haunted Cupboard: the Unabridged Masterpiece, by Ginny M. Weasley.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young princess named Ginevra Weasley (but everyone called her Ginny because they didn't want their bits hexed off). She was madly in love with an excruciatingly attractive young prince named Harry Potter, who also happened to be madly in love with her as well. Unfortunately, Harry was far too ignorant of his own feelings to act on them, so poor Ginny had to content herself with pilfering his underpants from time to time while she waited for him to come around.

One day, after coming across a colony of house elves, Ginny found herself inside a cupboard. She wasn't quite sure why she was there, but supposed that she had been ferreting about for Christmas decorations or something of the sort. But the cupboard was exceptionally deep, so princess Ginny had to venture far inside.

Suddenly, the princess whirled around. There was something in there with her! She screamed bloody murder and chucked her precious diary at the wall in hopes of driving it off, but alas, it didn't work.

Quite unexpectedly, an evil monster burst out of the shadows. It had big teeth like a deranged sort of beaver, and its bugging eyes looked at her in a menacing sort of way.

"Wuurrr," it growled. It swung its arms round like a nutter.

Ginny jumped.

The monster appeared to be quite nice for a while, except for when it tried to attack her.

"Harry! Harry! Save me, Harry!" she cried dramatically.

But alas, Ginny's prince couldn't hear her, because she was too busy bravely helping his kingdom to save his true love.

Just when Ginny thought she was doomed to snuff it, the door opened (even though it was locked).

"Ginny, what on Earth are you doing in here?"

The princess felt sad. Instead of her handsome prince, it was a shabby but kind werewolf. Except that she didn't want to die, so she let the nice wolf man sweep her off her feet and carry her home.

The End

It's brilliant, isn't it? I mean, loads of writers meddle with the facts a bit to make things more interesting, right? Perhaps it's not quite a masterpiece, but...

Well, alright. It's complete rubbish.

Except that Lupin did find me, and now I expect he's gone to Mum to tell her that her daughter is a lunatic. And then Dad'll agree, and Harry will too, and Ron... He'll be Ron. Then when they cart me off to St. Mungo's, Mum will sob her bloody eyes out, and as they drag me down the street, Black Annis will come out of nowhere and say, "There's the Weasley girl with the addled brains that stole the underpants of the Boy-Who-Lived and locked herself in a haunted cupboard. But of course, most of that was after she imagined some house elves in a nonexistent forest."

I fancy I might be a Seer.

The Gnome Graveyard
12:41 p.m.

I've got to bury the gnome I didn't exactly intentionally murder. I suspect that, if it wasn't dead, it would have already wandered off by now.

I thought it might've wanted to come after me.

That's why I put my feet up on the bench. I didn't really fancy getting all bloodied up.

But now, I'm rather sure it's not going to wake up, so I've got to conduct a proper burial for the little bugger.

I mean, I'm sure I won't be taken away by dementors. (Healers are preferable.)

Er, right?

Well, in any case, I'd best destroy the evidence.

The Gnome Not-So-Graveyard


The wretched little beast was still alive!

I was feeling rather forlorn that I'd killed something. Funny how that happens.

But th

The Kitchen
1:15 p.m.

I didn't think Mum would come searching for me, bless her. Turns out that it's lunchtime. She hasn't mentioned the cupboard, so I suppose Lupin hasn't told her about it yet.

At least, I hope so.

Mum made soup again.

Of course, it would have been better if Phlegm wasn't here.

Hold on, where's Bill?

Spiffing. They aren't inseparable after all.

Oh bugger. There's Lupin. I'll just pretend I haven't spotted him.

A figment of your imagination (the kitchen, technically)
1:17 p.m.

"Hello, Ginny." He's just said hello. Oh Merlin, don't let him mention

"You haven't locked yourself up in any more cupboards, I hope?"

Now he's grinning. I suppose I should say something.

"Not today, Professor." I feel like an idiot, because I'm certainly smiling like one. Phlegm has this really peculiar look on her face.

Not that I'm not ignoring her, or anything. It's just that she's always so conspicuous.

I wonder why?

I'm not actually wondering anything, mind you. Even though I've been doing so rather often lately. And that's not to say Phlegm is occupying my thoughts, either. (In case you might have interpreted it that way.)

That's Bill's problem, not mine.

I happen to not let my mind think of anything that isn't attractive.

Meaning, (It was crudely put.), that Harry spends a lot of time in my head.

Oh, right. I've forgotten about Lupin.

"Well, that's always good to hear." I think he might have said this a while ago.

"Geenevra, what iz zees zat you are writing?"

Er, nothing.

"Er, nothing."

"Of course eet eez not! I 'ave seen you with zees leetle book all week!"

Even Lupin looks mildly interested now. Damn her.

"I'm, er..."

Think, Ginny! THINK!

"It's, ah... Just some notes."

Notes? Oh bother.

"For my, er..."

"Charms essay, isn't that what you told me earlier?" That was Lupin. He's now my bloody hero.

"Oh." Fleur's face is falling. Perhaps the rest of her will shortly follow, and she'll leave me.


In peace.

Mum is walking in, and Lupin just winked at me. I'm pretending not to notice, because I don't want Phlegm to pick up on anything. Except that I can't help but grin, though I'm stifling it a bit with my napkin.

You know, the table feels relatively empty. Come to think of it, I haven't seen the boys all day. Where are they? They can't just keep disappearing like this, it's unnerving. Even Mum looks somewhat worried. They can't be playing Quidditch, I would've noticed when I was still outside.

"Remus, have you seen Harry and the boys? They were supposed to be back an hour ago." Mum.

"I'm sorry, Molly, I can't say that I have. Would you like me to look for them?"

"Oh, no. I'm sure they'll turn up. And you'll be wanting a bite to eat."

Mum can be peculiar at times. It's rightly obvious that she wants someone to bring them home, wherever they are. She won't say it, though. Adults don't do that sort of thing, I've discovered. Especially Mum.

Well, if Lupin won't go, then perhaps I shall.

The Attic
7:48 p.m.

Why the bloody hell did I make such a bloody long paper bloody chain?

I left it on Harry's bed, (I hadn't meant to, I just never came back), but he must have moved it, because it was in an enormous and despondent heap in the corner. Still is, actually, seeing as I haven't touched it yet. Not only is it more vast than I expected (remembered), but there could be a whole manner of things living beneath it.

It's good to be cautious (sometimes). That's why I'm still alive (mostly).

The Attic
7:50 p.m.

The pile smells like paste. In fact, it's practically toxic.

I wonder if Harry and Ron really did sleep in here last night. I don't know where else they would've gone, but it's quite horrible in here.

My Room
8:00 p.m.

I've just transported my paper chains into my room.

The logic behind it being that the foul smell of paste will drive away Phlegm, my unwanted room-mate. Company, more like.

I am brilliant, which explains my madness.

My Room
8:05 p.m.

I can't breathe.

The Kitchen
8:08 p.m.

It's too dark to go outside.

Fred and George's Room
8:24 p.m.

I have decided that F and G's room is the best place to be. For the most part, this is because they haven't come home yet. Lupin and I couldn't find them.

Oh, wait.

I haven't mentioned that part yet, have I?

Well, as I suspect I put down before, (Ah yes, there it is.), Lupin offered to go out and track down Harry, Ron, the twins, and whomever else, but Mum wouldn't have it. It went on like that for a while, until I decided I couldn't tolerate it any longer.

"I'll go, Mum," I offered brightly. She looked startled.

"But Ginny, dear, you'll catch cold in the snow. Won't she, Remus?" Mum looked at him for some sort of support, I suppose. She completely disregarded Fleur.

Er, Phlegm, I mean.

"Actually, that might be a good idea," he told her, which was most surprising. "In fact, I'll even go along to make sure she doesn't encounter any trouble. Merlin knows I need to stretch my legs."

Or something similarly as impressive.

So without further ado, Mum ushered us to the door, badgering me about my scarf in a defeated sort of way. I really don't like it when she looks like that. Makes her seem deflated, or something. It's dampened even Fred and George's spirits before, and that isn't easily done. Miracles happen, though.

Anyway, Lupin and I walked for a while without seeing anyone or anything, except for trees and snow, of course. In fact, it appeared to have snowed since I had last been outside.

Sneaky stuff.

It was pretty, though, and there were a few snowflakes still falling in certain places. It's always the slow ones you've got to love.

(I suppose I might mean that in more ways than one.)

I was beginning to worry a bit that we might be getting lost. I mean, I certainly don't want to repeat yesterday's events. At least we weren't in a forest.

Oh, and I wasn't alone, of course.

But then all of a sudden, I got this really brilliant idea. (Again.) See, I like a reprieve from the chatter of the boys, but honestly, absolute silence is something I can't stand. Especially when I'm with someone.

Well, I wasn't with someone, you know...

But I expect that if I was, it would have been superior in... awkwardness.

(There's another for the list.)

So as this weeny little town... village sort of thing came into view, I asked Lupin if he knew any Christmas carols. I expect we'll want to go caroling this year, like we used to do when I was...

I don't know.

Of course, that tradition is now rather broken, seeing as we stopped ages ago. So I never learned the words to anything. (I wasn't ever much help, seeing as all I could do was nibble on my thumbs and squawk when Fred and George tried to reach the higher notes of the songs.) I'd forgotten about it until round last year, when we spent the holidays at Grimmauld Place.

Because that's when Sirius was singing God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs.

Merlin, it's quiet without him.

I reckon that's why I wasn't surprised when Lupin, after smiling to himself as we trudged along, started to sing the precise carol I was thinking of.

Well, maybe I was a bit surprised.

More, probably, at his deep but pleasant singing voice. If Harry had been there, I don't think he would have needed my help in falling over into the snow.

F and G's Room
8:52 p.m.

Here, I've found it! I had him write down the words for me. I'll copy them down here:

God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs

God rest ye merry hippogriffs
Let nothing you dismay
The fire is lit, the parcels wrapped
And put out on display
The mistletoe is hung above,
The nargles chased away
O tidings of magic and joy
Magic and joy
O tidings of magic and joy

In the paddock, just outside
Slumbers a unicorn
The snowflakes fall upon his head
And gather round his horn
He graces this home for the night
And can merit no scorn
O tidings of magic and joy
Magic and joy
O tidings of magic and joy

From the kitchen wafts a smell
Attractive without blame
Of pies and tarts and cinnamon
And slowly roasting game
The house elves scurry all about
The children do the same
O tidings of magic and joy
Magic and joy
O tidings of magic and joy

Fear not of kneazles underfoot
Or pixies low in flight
That pull your ears and stub your toes
When let out of your sight
Tonight, up they are curled as one
Basking in firelight
O tidings of magic and joy
Magic and joy
O tidings of magic and joy

The clear glass of the window pane
Has intricate designs
Which, traced upon its cold surface
Can often bring to mind
The frozen surface of a pond
And needles of a pine
O tidings of magic and joy
Magic and joy
O tidings of magic and joy

And when inside, the wondrous feast
On the table is lain
The guests all are gathered at once
And they cannot refrain
From raising their golden goblets
In unanimous praise
O tidings of magic and joy
Magic and joy
O tidings of magic and joy

Now fly above the town this eve
Leave behind not a trace
Of worries or of fretful times
That might have plagued this place
For Christmas brings a warmth to us
And this we must embrace
O tidings of magic and joy
Magic and joy
O tidings of magic and joy

It's rather long.

Which makes it even more astonishing that he knows the whole lot of it.

But I reckon Lupin knows almost everything.

Funny, there must be one in every generation somewhere.

Or more.

Still here
8:54 p.m.

Does that mean there are more Remus Lupins and Hermione Grangers scurrying about the world?

F and G's Room
8:55 p.m.

Lupin knew the words to Malfoy Child Lullaby, (which was rather morbid).

But then again, he said that it used to be Black Child Lullaby, and Sirius' Mum used to sing it to him. (What a lovely bird she was.) The Malfoys stole it later and changed the words a bit. Think they're quite clever, we suspect.

We also suspect it might have started out as Pureblood Child Lullaby, but not even Lupin knows that.

Anyway, we found Harry, Ron, and Bill soon enough. Seems they were having a snowball fight.

Oh, yeah. Remember how I mentioned that miracles happen?

Well, they can.

Because they asked me to join their snowball fight.

I was paired with Bill, because Ron wouldn't give up Harry. Ignorant, that one is. Though I reckon he wouldn't have given up Harry either way. Perhaps he's just protective.

Well, I know that.

But you're not really protecting your little sister from your best mate when said best mate is chucking handfuls of snow at her.

Maybe that's just my logic, though.

And I suppose Harry didn't have much of a chance to throw stuff at me, seeing as Bill gets rather violent and competitive. Protective, too, though I don't think that's got anything to do with our victory.

Not at all.

Besides, Bill only gets this way in the winter.


Phlegm ought to have come. She might've been so frightened that she would have called off the wedding.

Lupin just sort of watched us, humming to himself. I think he wanted to join in with us, so I tossed a snowball at him for good measure.

The hallway outside Fred and George's room
9:01 p.m.

I reckon I just heard the front door opening.

My Room
9:04 p.m.

Mum's shouting.

Fred and George must be home.