Sorry about the long wait! I've been focusing on some of my other multi-chapter stories lately. For those of you who read my other stories, I've put it on my profile and I'm saying it here, but it's November. That means, for the first time ever, I'm participating in NaNoWriMo (for those of you who don't know what it is, the simplest way I can explain it is that I'm writing a 50,000 word novel in one month. Yes, I'm insane). Therefore, I probably won't be updating much this month, except for the chapters that I have pre-written. That being said, enjoy!

Rule #9: I will stop referring to showering as "giving Moaning Myrtle an eyeful."

If there's one thing I know how to do, it's how to twist words and phrases. I am a Slytherin, after all. It's something that comes natural to us.

However, this natural talent can be both amazing and very, very bad. On the one hand, my quick-thinking and turns of phrase have gotten me out of trouble on numerous occasions because no one could really prove that I was behind everything (even though most times I was). On the other hand, that same talent probably got me into trouble more than it got me out of trouble. It's not my fault that I have a smart mouth!

That's probably the reason why this rule was made.

One winter morning, I had been eavesdropping on the Gryffindors to catch the latest gossip. That's one of the many things they're good for. Don't tell any of the other Slytherins. They like to believe that Gryffindors are completely useless.

Back to Gryffindors gossiping. As I was eavesdropping, I heard one of the boys, Saint Potter I'd presume since his posse did the most gossiping after the Brown and Patil girl, complaining about Moaning Myrtle's input when he was trying to figure out his egg.

Wow, that sounded odd. Oh, well. That just confirms it was Potter. Brown and Patil just had boring gossip about who was snogging whom and who had detention. Before you ask, I will say that, yes, my name came up multiple times in their conversations. Their gossip was only good for blackmail opportunities. Potter's gossip on the other hand…

Now that was the juicy gossip. It never failed to provide me with ideas. It also gave me a feeling for what sort of mood the professors would be in.

Anyways, Potter was mentioning the ghost of Myrtle spying on him in the bath. Huh. That story just keeps sounding stranger and stranger.

This is where my fabulous talent of turning words to suit my whims came in. It only took a short amount of time for me to come up with it. I must admit, I started cackling like crazy when I came up with it. That's always a cue that my idea is pure genius. I never quite understood why people shudder whenever they hear me cackle. After all, it's not like I'm Lord Voldemort or anything. My cackle doesn't sound even remotely evil!

I was really sad when I learned that I couldn't put my plan into action until that night. There was no opportunity for it earlier.

"I'm going to take a shower," Crabbe (or was it Goyle? After three years I could still never tell them apart) grunted. As he walked toward the stairs leading to the dormitories, I waved at him.

"Have fun giving Moaning Myrtle an eyeful!" I called out to him. Everyone in the common room spared me an odd look before turning back to what they were doing. They were used to my shenanigans by now. Well, most people called them shenanigans. I called them genius.

It continued on for the rest of the night like that. Whenever someone would announce that they were taking a shower or getting ready for bed, I would wish them fun in giving Myrtle an eyeful. She was one lucky gal. She had all these people that were willingly letting her peep on them. I don't understand how she was so depressed all the time.

I will say, it was hilarious watching people's reactions to my new phrase. It seems like they had never even considered that a ghost could be watching them. Oh well. They learned something new. The funniest reactions were those Slytherins who realized what I meant and then suddenly didn't want to shower anymore. Oh, those poor first and second years. They were still so terrified of everything, including me. I'm sure some of them thought that I was the scariest Slytherin in the world. Babies. I'll be the first to admit that I have nothing on Lord Voldemort or the original Slytherin, Salazar Slytherin. Compared to them, I'm as terrifying as a butterfly.

"I don't want to take a shower!" a first year was whining at the end of the night. "I don't want Moaning Myrtle to spy on me! She's creepy!"

"Why would she want to spy on you?" the female prefect snapped, giving me a nasty look for making her night more difficult than it needed to be. "You're a girl. Myrtle's only interested in the boys."

"But—"

"Go take a shower and go to bed now," the prefect ordered. "Professor Snape won't appreciate you smelling during Potions."

I began cackling again. I wonder how that would go down.

I was able to continue on for a few more days. More and more first and second years stopped taking showers, too scared of Moaning Myrtle. I was kind of surprised that none of the older Slytherins or the prefects reported me. It wouldn't have been the first time that Professor Snape called me in to his office to scold me for something that someone had told him. I've gone to his office so many times that I could walk the route in my sleep.

Finally, Potions class came around. Apparently, some of the teachers had made comments to Professor Snape about the lack of hygiene in his first and second years since he had us making potions for basic glamours. It wouldn't change much about our outward appearances but these potions would at least make us look clean.

"If they're so easy to make, why does he never use one?" I overheard a Gryffindor hissing to his pal. They both laughed, causing Professor Snape to immediately take away five points. They weren't very happy but all us Slytherins enjoyed it.

As we worked on our potions, Professor Snape came around to make sure we weren't about to blow up any cauldrons. As he approached my table, I felt a question forming on the tip of my tongue. I honestly tried my hardest to not ask it, since I already had two weeks' worth of detention, but my mouth didn't listen to me.

"Professor Snape, do you not take showers because you don't want to give Moaning Myrtle an eyeful?"

The class was dead silent. I could see some of my yearmates staring at me like I was insane. One or two had their heads against their desks, mumbling under their breath. A couple Gryffindors snickered. Professor Snape didn't waste one second in giving out his answer.

"Detention."

Review please, especially if you had a good laugh.