Disclaimer: I don't own harry potter, err, JK Rowling does.

Pairing: GinxTom, Remember! Other guys might come to play, but this is the ultimate one! WOOHOO!

A/N: I had End of year exams for quite a while. So I think my characters may be quite out of character... Check for me can? I'm pretty new to fanfiction, so if there are any things I'm not doing right, do tell me! And thank you all reviewers who reviewed the last writing! Mashka530, You'reABirdOfTheSummer, Halfblood Awesomness! Thanks so much! Its really encouraging!

Previously...

But as Riddle shot his 'you-are-so-dead-girl' death ray glare at Ginny, she knew that there was no wiggling out of this one. She'd always imagined herself of dying a valiant death fighting by the side of the Order of the Phoenix, not by the hand of Lord Voldermorts younger self killing her discreetly in the Forbidden Forest and stuffing her up a tree.

That sort of death, was not cool at all.

Chapter 9-Rejection, Accusations, Kiddies, Devilish Plots and Plans

Occasionally, when Ginny reached to arm her wand hand with her unicorn-cored wand, faint rashes would sometimes appear on regions on her skin which came into contact with her wand. She barely noticed it at first- though it did itch terribly, but she simply perceived it as the side-effects of sitting through the Woeful Wizarding War. However, as the days passed, the rashes worsened and became more conspicuous to even her peers. When she walked down the corridors, the scary rashes turned people's heads and caught their undivided attention. Either that, or she was just mind blowingly gorgeous. Well, there was a higher chance of it being the first reason anyway because even girls began to stare at her as well.

Even Riddle began to notice it himself when Ginny was so unfortunate as to be paired up with him during Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Fridwarn-" Ginny was really beginning to detest that name, especially when Riddle pronounced it. He was amazing. She never expected something to sound so different when pronounced the same sort of way. For instance, Riddle could flatter the Professors ten times better than her, with the use of nearly the same word choice as her. And yet, when she threw all sorts of obscene languages at him on a daily basis, all he had to do was to pronounce her name once this way to really piss her pants off.

"What?" Ginny snapped, her reflexes jumping to life and taking control of her, sending her into the most silly attack poise.

"I suggest you stop... hexing people," Riddle replied coolly, his masked eyes locked with her own, sending uncontrolled shivers down Ginny's spine. "Your wand, apparently doesn't take a liking to your activities."

That guy was strange. I mean, yeah, psychotic murderers have to be strange, no?

"I promise you, Riddle," Ginny swore boldly- after all, she was one to regret on her actions and words after it had all played out- "During this duel, I won't go easy on you if that's what you're getting at."

"Fridwarn," Riddle replied, the tone of his voice once again so correct, that Ginny had to fight an impulse to sock him in the face just for fun and laughter peace and joy. "I am not one to stoop to these sort of methods to win a duel."

Arrogant pigheaded arse.

"Well, that's precisely why you don't win, Mr Riddle. About time you start to try out some of those-"

"If you weren't blind, Fridwarn, or mentally challenged, you would perhaps have noticed the rashes forming on your wand hand." As though to prove his words, Riddle leaned forward and lifted Ginny's hand abruptly, causing her to pull away from his grip awkwardly. "This, I'll promise you, is a clear sign that your wand has rejected you. And may I ask why so?"

"None of your business," Ginny bit back, angry at not knowing the reason herself. In fact, this was the first time understanding dawned upon her- why her wand hadn't been functioning up to standard the past few days. It either refused to listen to her orders, or weakened her spells which had been darn right powerful during the Second Wizarding War. She had been able to blast a pillar to pieces then! Now, perhaps she could just scrape by blowing up a rock. "Then I suppose when I beat you Riddle, you should be more than embarrassed."

"If you even manage to stand as my opponent for five minutes, Fridwarn, which I doubt myself."

Riddle had been right.

So many horrid things were going on at one time, that Ginny could barely keep track of them all.

Firstly, she was up against the Dark Lord himself- and that was bad, right? I mean, if he chose to use some unknown advanced spell on her and say 'oops, my bad, I TOTALLY didn't mean to' later, Ginny would probably find herself joining Myrtle in her bathroom, and actually painfully witnessing Riddle, her murderer, becoming Head Boy or something.

That really did little to comfort her.

Secondly, Ginny was panting and sweating all over- which was a result of ducking constantly, and rolling all about the floor (tearing her cloak) to avoid Riddle's extremely advanced and goodness-knows-what-they-could-do type of curses. She wasn't eager to find out what they actually induced in a homo sapien. She had obtained several grazes and bruises lining her lower calf from doing so, but that was something to give thanks for already. After all, the Second Wizarding War gave her some nasty mortal wounds which was a hundred and one times worst than her state at the moment.

Lastly, her wand just had to stubbornly ignore her- frequently letting Riddle off the hook by causing curses to miss epicly, and suppressing spells which should have won over Merrythoughts approval. Freak that wand!- focusing like nuts to curse Riddle and receiving a You-Losersmirk from a undoubtedly handsome looking Dark Lord (whose face should've been covered in boils by the Furnunculus Curse) on the other end was getting extremely tiresome and annoying. It was a pity because she had been drawing up an entire plan for Riddle ever since she had been announced as his opponent, first freezing, then burning, then maybe warts.

But worst of the worst of all the horrid things was that: Riddle had been right. And, he seemed to acknowledge that perfectly well.

And then, when things were as bad as they were already, a emerald green light had to be propelled out of Riddle's wand at that exact timing in which Ginny was speculating about that war... Snippets of the killing curse flashed through her mind, and adrenalin coursed through her body, causing her to raise her bloody traitorous wand once more in defense.

She didn't think twice as usual, simply acting on paranoia instinct and in self-protection. Take him down first, before he does to you. That was the rule of survival.

"Ava..." Though fortunately and unfortunately, she didn't make it too far.

And that was how Ginny ended up in Professor Merrythought's office- shivering a bit, but very much alert.

Surprisingly, for a half vampire, her office slanted more towards the human side. In fact, it seemed rather comfortable, with cushioned seats facing each other across her work desk, and a nice little rocking chair next to a round-well-like-thing. Ginny had expected something more along the lines of coffins in place of cushioned seats, cobwebs spun by spiders at the corners of the walls, and bottles filled with blood lining the shelves. Or maybe- Ginny had read too many vampire/witch romance novels and her imagination had really become too wild for her own good.

The only things that actually stood out was: the 'round-well-like-thing', and the moving photographs which filled the walls of the room.

"Ginny."

Ginny swiveled around to face the half-vampire, only to find that in that split second of reaction time, Merrythought had superhumanly shifted herself, from the entrance, to practically the other end of the room. This, was really creeping Ginny out.

"Yes? Why'd you suddenly want to see me? I mean- we were dueling halfway and then-" Ginny side-glanced Merrythought anxiously, "And then, you cut short the lesson. I don't understand… What… what happened?"

"Firstly, have a seat-" The half vampire was at Ginny's side once more, gesturing seriously to the comfortable chair across her work desk, and Ginny followed her instructions by seating herself. "Secondly, let's be honest here- Both of us know that you attempted the Killing Curse in mid duel."

Ginny's insides began to meltdown at the accusation. Her trained instinct told her to grab for her wand, but the logical side of her pointed out that there was no way a Professor would attack a little kid. "N... No…"

A lie. A blatant lie. But how did she… ever guess? I didn't even finish the curse…

"Ginny." Merrythought folded her long pale fingers, and knitted them thoughtfully. At this moment, Ginny was pleasantly surprise to notice that she barely looked furious- or, wasn't even close to flustered. "You've been in a battle before."

This question- or no, this statement, threw Ginny off guard. Frankly speaking, she had expected Merrythought to pack her up and ship her off to a cell in Azkaban. Apparently, she didn't look like she was in the mood to, but who knew, perhaps when she was done with the interrogating part, she just might.

Keep your guard up Ginny. IF she does, fight for your freedom.

"How'd you know?" Ginny managed, realizing with pride that she hadn't stuttered in that sentence.

"And a real siege too, I must say-" Merrythought her gorgeous face lighting up as she smiled understandingly at Ginny. "As a Defense Against the Arts teacher, wouldn't it be a pity if I couldn't tell?"

"What?" Ginny gulped, the thought of whipping her wand out occurring to her once more. That was about three things who knew somewhat about her strange arrival here. Dumbledore, a sorting hat, and now Professor Merrythought. How bad could this situation get?

"The stance, the positions, and the manner you dueled Ginny- was very aggressive, similar to that of a highly trained Auror," Merrythought nodded towards Ginny approvingly or disapprovingly- depending on which one you saw it as. "The way you fought, Ginny, was as though your entire life depended on it- And well, most students understand that they have a second chance to stand again if they fall, but you, opted to strike at the opponent and close in on him first, before he finished you off. As though you were aware of the slim border between survival and death." She hesitated at this. "And your reflexes, I admit they're truly remarkable."

Ginny bit her lip at this. So it was all out now. Yeah yeah, she fought in the Second Wizarding World War fifty years from now, against all those crazy idiots with black masks running mad round the school, got captured, lost everything to that psychopath, Voldy-Riddle, and got trapped in the 1940s like a loser. End of story.

"I'm completely aware that you didn't intend to use the Killing Curse, Ginny," –Merrythought finally came to a conclusion. "Perhaps, unconsciously out of… due to bad experiences- Either way, I shall not probe. But I trust Ginny, I trust you to control yourself in the future."

Feeling a more than wary that Merrythought would let her off the hook so easily, Ginny questioned the most insane question she could fathom, "You… you know, don't you?"

"Know?" Merrythought laughed at this. "Nowhere near. But I dare say I've formed a nearly accurate presumption."

"Accurate..." There was a pause, and Ginny attempted to change the subject. "Err... My wand. I think my wand, well, rejected me during the duel. I mean, you saw didn't you?"

The half-vampire nodded as if it was known fact all over Britain. "And do you have any idea why?"

"No," she muttered. "No idea. It just hates me for no good reason! Its a rotten good for nothing wand! Its not like I killed anyone or anything..."

"Your personality must have drastically changed then. You'll have to go down the Diagon Alley to purchase a new one."

The 'all-seeing' sorting hat had suggested her change in mindset and intentions perhaps, and now Merrythought, and even her wand- an inanimate object. If that was the case, she must have... changed quite a bit, no? Hopefully for the better.

"How'd you... know?" Ginny managed, wondering how she had guessed 'her change' and half-hoping Merrythought was just plain stupid despite her reputation for not-being-plain-stupid, and all her accurate presumptions just all wrong.

"Ah... Ginny," Merrythought spared her a breathtaking smile at this point, which actually helped to calm her down a bit. "You can say its one of my... accurate presumptions."

Ginny drew a sharp intake of breath at the repetition of the phase, 'accurate presumption' before hurrying out of her office, without asking about the 'Extension of Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part Humans to Vampires and Halfbreeds' poster, or the well-like thingy that she figured was a Pensieve, before the Professor could make any more accurate presumptions.

Fridwarn had tried to use the Killing Curse on him. Riddle was absolutely sure of that.

"Tom." A child's voice- mischievous yet urgent at the same time, whispered from the window of the Slytherin boy's dormitory. Riddle turned, distracted from his thoughts, to find a lithe figure having blasted open the window-pane with a flick of his wand, swinging down from the window sill.

At the mention of his first name, Riddle perked up. Only Thanin addressed him so, and besides, the mischievous edge to the voice confirmed his guess. Within Riddle aroused eagerness, and he had to re-organize down his mental defenses thrown off momentarily by his curiosity, before rising from his bunk and heading over to the Lilliputian figure by the window.

"My word, Tom! Are you nocturnal? I thought I might have to wake you!" The first year exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "Or are you a vampire? I've had my suspicions, really!"

"Hush, Thanin."

Anyone else who'd criticized him so, would've been Cruciated on the spot. However, no matter how Riddle was reluctant to admit, he did have a soft spot for the boy- having experienced the same problems in their Orphanage, and because of his little secret: He actually did like kids. Eccentrically, he had never, never dared try to cast an unforgivable curse on a kid, despite having Cruciated thousands his age. And besides, torturing kids didn't make any sense either way. Kids were immature, and easy to charm. If they did take a liking to you- they'd go around doing stupid things, even if it was to solely please their great Big Bro.

"Anyway, Rosier, Mulciber and Macnair are taking the long way up. They'll take some time, having to sneak past the prefects on duty and face the stairs- the suckers, call themselves sixth years?" –Thanin made a face- "I flew in. Simple and useful, you know, being a Meta-morph-magus-"

Riddle momentarily clamed his hand down over the mouth of the overly talkative first year, before muttering "Lumos", and casting a most powerful silencing charm around them. As the first year struggled in Riddle's surprisingly strong grasp, he warned, "Thanin, I assume you're intending to reveal everything to the world?"

"Nomph!"

"Good," Riddle quirked his eyebrows at Thanin's silly antiques and raving hands, before releasing the boy gently. First years- they had yet to grow up. Then, lowering his voice a large notch out of paranoia, Riddle said in Thanin's ear. "The Room of Requirements, now." –Thanin tried to cut in, but Riddle ignored him- "No, not a meeting. Just the four of you- I'll start moving. You- Inform them, now. And Thanin, one more word, and I won't hesitate with the curses."

"But Tom I'm a tired, panting, old and poor haggard-"

"I vividly recall someone boasting about their ability of flight." With eyes searching the dormitories, Riddle again lowered his volume, "Don't, Thanin, be such an arse, as to morph here."

"Yes, Daddy," Thanin didn't bother to suppress his loud moan- instead, amplifying it to irritate Riddle. And in a split second, he disappeared from sight, darting out of the dormitories.

Riddle sighed, kids. Sure things, they were a handful, but a useful handful. And apparently from Thanin's bouncy and merry demeanor, he, as a Metamorphmagus, and along with is companions, had managed to breach nearly all the barriers of The Heir of Gryffindor's little cubby hideout- and went a step further to threaten him as ordered by their Lord himself.

And Riddle was absolutely certain, that unlike that weakling Hornby who for some reason, refused to break the previous meeting, The Heir of Gryffindor would indeed. Of course, being The Heir of Godric himself, he would be brave- and definitely would give his life to protect the sole family artifact passed down through the centuries… But not if Riddle threatened him- and not with his life, but with everything he possibly cared for.

No one defeated Lord Voldermort. No one challenged him.

Olive's condition was at its peak worst.

She had stopped talking, stopped eating, and basically stopped all activities in which a human normally carried out altogether. This scared Ginny terribly. Truthfully speaking, she didn't entirely trust Olive. Never entirely trust anyone. Never. Especially not one of those little vipers. But for someone who had lost basically everyone, Ginny wasn't keen on losing Olive too. But losing Olive to goodness knows what? – Trauma? And Trauma of what? The dots just stubbornly refused to link up.

After checking Olive into the Hospital Wing (Ginny forced her there), and leaving Olive in the hands of the skilful Matron who for once was befuddled by her patient's condition, asking Ginny countless of questions which- sorry to say- she couldn't answer. And really, if the patient herself refused to speak, the truth would probably never emerge.

Not having her friend around bugged Ginny. And Slughorn, still supremely cheerful about everything, including life, bugged Ginny even more.

"Oh, Ms Fridwarn!" Slughorn exclaimed, before his eyes darted around once more. "You didn't attend the Slug Club meeting last week! I was anguished, Fridwarn! Anguished!"

Sure. But I thought your star-nerd Voldy was there?

Instead, Ginny stuck with: "Great Godric! It must have slipped my mind, Professor! And the invitation paper disintegrated on me before I finished reading it, so-"

"Oh!" –Slughorn leaned forward enthusiastically- "Next week's meeting's at the three Broomstick! Tuesday, Eight! A good place for merry making and socializing! Don't forget, Fridwarn!"

Ginny remembered how Slytherins were technically pro in potions and the idea of socializing with one of those snakes, especially with absence of Olive, freaked her out. She attempted struggling for an excuse out of her damned corner, but Slughorn had taken her wide-eyed expression for that of excitement, and had sauntered off humming happily.

Damn.

"Filthy Slut- Not bad, are you?" The cat-Animagus-girl sneered, her wand pressed to Ginny's throat. "Managed to catch My Lor- Tom's attention in a month."

In Merlin's name! She's been hit by a bludger to her head!

Ginny shifted her weight from her left leg to her right, before feigning to the left with the force of her right leg, and grabbing the opportunity to deftly ram her wand into the girl's middle, the impact causing the vain girl to fly backwards.

"Expelliarmus!" Ginny thought- making use of the girl's stunned shock and pain-recovery-period, and disarming her immediately. The spell had come out weak, but at least it was on check, and it did do its job rather well.

Great, at least my darn wand has the sense of favouring its master over that Cat-girl. I'd have snapped it into two if it preferred that Cat-girl.

Attack first, interrogate later.

The same moment the Cat-girl hit the floor with a cracking thud, her wand flew with a beautiful curved ark into the hands of Ginny simultaneously.

This would sound extraordinarily cliche, but Ginny really couldn't have described it in any other way. Cat-girl's wand felt as though it belonged in the palm of Ginny's hand, forever, and forever more. It was like Ginny's first kiss with Harry (not a very good example). That warmth it produced, which surged through her entire body, as though they were meant to be together. As though they were meant to be.

Then, cautiously, switching to Cat-girl's wand instead, Ginny trained it on the wincing figure before her- whose auburn blazed hair was spread out evenly on the cold tiling, then advancing forward.

"You've sat through too much Divination, cat-girl- Drives the mind crazy after awhile. What in Merlin's name are you sprouting about?" –The girl, sprawled on the floor, didn't bother to insert a snide remark at this, instead focusing her effort on hefting herself off the ground with the kind support of the wall- "Not surrounded by that aristocratic bunch of noobs, are you? Apparently, if I were to bench their skill with yours, they're as good as trolls with wands."

A bit too Slytherin of me, I know- but to the hell with too Slytherin or not! I really don't get how walking around a corner casually offends that vain harebrained idiot!

The cat-girl's fingers curled into a clench at this, and with another attempt, she succeeded in hauling herself off the ground. Slowly, Ginny watched as she straightened her hair vainly, anger coursing through her- for two reasons. Firstly, for being disarmed, and secondly, for messing up her make-up.

"Oooooooh," –the Cat girl shot back- "and where has that darling friend of yours, Hornby, run to? Just cos' she's match-made to Abraxas doesn't mean she can just, slither out of lessons- Not that Abraxas even likes her or anything. If I were Abraxas, I'd rather marry that rotten ogre Hagrid."

"Match-made to Abraxas? Match-made to that... You're crazy, woman."

"You don't know?" She giggled- a high pitch throbbing sound which was very much similar to that of Myrtles. "Hornby- How pathetic that girl!" Speak for yourself.

"Don't make me hex you, girl."

Cat-girl cooed at this, completely ignoring the warning and batting her eyelashes at a frequency which succeeded in annoying Ginny, if that was what its purpose was. "Hornby- Match-made to Abraxas, what a hilarious joke! Getting into the Commission because of that- a greater joke! She never deserved that position- Oh, hilarious! Good thing my darling Tom finally put an end to all those jokes!" And with that, she convulsed with waves of laughter. Laughing at her own joke. It wasn't even funny to begin with.

Getting into the Commission. Had Olive been a traitor too? Betrayal- this hadn't been the first time Ginny had experienced it. It had almost been expected though. Never trust anyone. But yet, still an empty sensation lingered within her. A hole in her soul, that was basically what it was.

"Tom?" Ginny felt her body straighten with quaint familiarity at that evil name, and her previous curiosity intensified. "Tom Riddle?"

"Why, jealous are you, Frid-warn?" Cat girl's voice peaked with bitchiness and defensiveness, currently sounding like a five year old kid fighting over a piece of chocolate. "He's mine! My boyfriend! You heard that! Don't you dare try anything-"

"Whatever," –Ginny couldn't care less which girl Voldy fancied. "You said: Tom finally put an end to all those jokes." Ginny, using Cat-girl's wand, had caused it to involuntarily jerked to press against Cat-girl's throat, forcing her against the wall. "Tell me what he did."

Cat-girl gritted her teeth, and tried fruitlessly to bat the wand tip from her throat. She batted her eyelashes once more, out of habit, before scowling, "Hornby was outrightly stupid- she always was. But please, I never expected her to be so stupid as to resist Tom's questioning-"

"Tom Riddle? What did he ask?" Ginny interrupted, before regretting cutting Cat-girl of from her roll of insults.

Too late. Cat-girl seemed to realize how potent the information she was revealing at that very moment, and withdrew from the conversation rashly, glaring at Ginny, as though it was entirely her fault (too thick to realise it was hers for replying), for managing to come so far with the questioning.

"You're going to tell me, cat-girl," Ginny threatened, finding her voice unusually weak. I'm not very good at this, am I? "Or else… Or else…"

"Or else?" The girl's upper lip curled into a smirk. "Or else what? You're going to hex me? Along a corridor? Sure."

Ginny swallowed the burning rage within her, acknowledging that this point was certainly true. But this concerned Olive, and the state she was currently in. It made complete sense now, and the more Ginny dwelled on that topic, the more she saw the light. The more she saw hope- Hope that Olive hadn't completely betrayed her.

Yes, of course! Olive resisted Voldermort's questioning, Voldermort got jumping mad, Voldermort threw curses at Olive which ended her up in the Hospital Wing, traumatized as hell.

Two thoughts entered Ginny's raging mind at that moment:

Cruciate that freaking Cat-girl. She wouldn't hesitate with the information.

Use Legilimency on her. Invade her mind.

Remember how Professor Lupin dealt with the captive Death Eaters? He Cruciated them for the information… The screams, the thrashing, the gore and blood…

It's unethical Ginny. You're a Weasley, remember? Upright, brave, strong…

Ginny released the Cat-girl at that thought, lowering her wand with uncertainty back to her side.

"As cowardly as Hornby, now, are you?" Cat-girl chose to scorn instead of thank. Honestly, Ginny didn't, and couldn't understand these Slytherins. First, they boo at Gryffindor because of their chivalry, and secondly, they boo at others because of their cowardice. The clockworks of a Slytherin brain never made any sense.

Ginny deliberately tossed her wand back at Cat-girl, hoping to get a shot at that ugly face of hers in the process, only to realise she had tossed Cat-girl her own unicorn cored wand instead, and to receive another scathing scorn. "Your family apparently, never bothered to bring you up properly. No good, dirty, mudblood blood traitors whom-"

Images of her mother's corpse, lying faced down on the blood stained castle floor, and her father's… Her father's cloak soaked in his own blood… They had fought so bravely, they had resisted the Dark Lord with their life.

How dare she…?

And Cat-girl's wand was out in Ginny's wand hand, pointing at Cat-girl threateningly- her reflexes faster than even the best Auror of the 20th Century, as she summoned a hex at the Cat-girl.

"Stupefy."

It was a simple spell. But for the first time in a long while, Cat-girl's wand and its caster, Ginny worked in perfect unison, united as one. The power of the wand simply amazed Ginny as she watched as a dynamic ray of light erupted from the tip of this wand. The sensation, was just, the feeling of invincibility whole and whole.

Unlike my own wand, this doesn't even give me rashes or anything... Perhaps...

Cat girl slipped into immediate unconsciousness, appalled at how much in control the opponent witch had over her own wand.

Oopsies…

Ginny watched with a mixture of content and hatred as Cat-girl's limp body crumpled to the ground. She deserved it. For everything she'd said and done, Ginny had held out. But insulting Ginny's late family was simply too much for her to handle.

"Ginny..." A faint high pitch voice abruptly echoed in her ear, sending her doubling back in shock. "There's blur old Professor Beery wandering down the corridors, coming round the corner anytime."

It took one second for Ginny to register that it was Myrtle-the-ghost whom had appeared out of nowhere, and was standing before her. She looked from Cat-girl's unconscious self, to the ghost- whose face was all flustered up and fearful for some reason-, before panicking and muttering 'Mobilicorpus' at Cat-girl's body, causing it to levitate upon command.

"Um… run?"

"There's a broom cupboard on the second level," Myrtle's acute ringing voice sung in her ear. "You can stuff her in it."

Ginny raced down the corridor, legs sprinting as fast as she could, the body of Cat-girl's floating after her. Whereas for the ghost, she merely glided along effortlessly after her, a concerned look on her face.

"Thanks Myrtle," Ginny said. "I could have gotten myself a two way ticket to the Forbid- Ember forest."

"Actually," the ghost replied, "I had something to share with you. Well, you weren't making yourself very accessible, and poor Myrtle's been scouting the school for a day looking for you! Naughty, naughty! Entrust busy Myrtle with a task, before running off!" The ghost-girl practically screeched into Ginny's ear, intentionally trying to burst her eardrums.

"Oh, Myrtle, please don't start on that now." Ginny side glanced the ghost with a sigh. "My head's already throbbing like mad from taking on that troll."

"So you don't want to know?"

"Know what?" Ginny groaned in defeat. "Yes, yes, I do want to know if its anything near useful."

"Like stalking that boy- whats his name- oh, yes, Rai-ddle or something like that. Okay, fine, I won't tell you a thing."

"Stalking RIDDLE?" Ginny screamed at the mention of his name. "MYRTLE IF YOU DON'T START TALKING, I'LL KILL YOU AGAIN- EVEN AS A GHOST!"

Myrtle giggled, and sang in the most annoying tune ever: "Oh, Ginny doesn't want to know-" (Hats off to those who guessed the tune!)

"To the hell with that, I swear, tell me now, if not I'll-"

"You'll what?" The ghost questioned, looking unusually interested in what Ginny had in mind for an already dead kiddo. "You'll do what?"

"Nothing," Ginny replied in exasperation, trying hard to switch the subject from such a useless topic, and nearly dying of anticipation. "But do, Myrtle, PLEASE, in Merlin's name, tell me what you discovered."

Myrtle gave in at that- AT LAST. "Well, I was following him around. And he kind of turned around many times and began casting all sorts of spells trying to find out who was stalking him- Ooooh! It was funny seeing him trying to uncover nobody! And he-"

"Skip that, skip that!" Ginny scowled impatiently. And when Myrtle's eyebrows knitted into a frown, Ginny corrected herself, remembering her foolish error she committed with Cat-girl. "On second thought, do continue."

"As I said, I followed him. And then, one day, he went to the seventh floor. There wasn't a door there at first. But it suddenly appeared, and Ooooh, he stepped in, and I followed through as he did. And he... Well, there were group of people there. Like six handsome-o-guys sitting on top, and around 15 or so sitting around a circular table below- there was that girl you hexed, and yea others.. And then... Oh yes! Obnoxiously Olly was there! She's consorting with the devil, she is! I know! And he talked blablablablabla- he wanted to hurt Draven, and I wasn't really looking, but he got all mad all of a sudden, and aimed his wand and Hornby. And he was asking something about OOooOH! You, yes you!, and Olive wasn't replying, and then he cast something on her, and she was screaming... Oh Ginny, a terrible sight... And she was thrashing about, and...-"

"You're telling me Myrtle," Ginny heard her voice shake as she whispered the the three dreadful words which left her mouth. "Riddle Cruciated Olive?"

"What's that?" The ghost shivered, her girly giggling completely leaving her, not liking the word one bit. Now she was finally behaving in a serious manner. Ginny had once told herself that the day Myrtle was serious, the day Blasted-end Skrewts would fly. Well, technically something crazier had happened, like for example, Ginny thrown back into the early 20th century without any sort of rhyme and reason...?

And Ginny realised that Hogwarts in the early 20th century probably never taught the students to recognise or cast Unforgivable Curses, which explained Myrtle's unsure demeanor.

"And he was asking about me? W.H.A.T?"

The ghost cast a apprehensive look at Ginny. "A bit. Nearing the end of the meeting. Mostly it was about retrieving something, and threatening..." the ghost's eyes shifted to Ginny uncertainty. "threatening... Draven."

"Okay, alright, I've gotta run, Myrtle," Ginny shook her head rapidly, anger and hatred rising from deep within her. "I'm going to... tell a Professor."

Myrtle zoomed into her path way, causing Ginny to run through her, which wasn't a very pleasant feeling on the whole. "Some advice from a dead person: That sort of thing doesn't work. Rai-ddle and his companions just have to deny it. You know they will. And you're ghost-meat."

"Thanks for the... you know, support?" Ginny muttered, slowly hesitating in her steps. "What should I...-" Ginny looked from the unconscious cat-girl to Myrtle, and suddenly a thought struck her. A terrible, exhilarating, spine chilling, crazed-blowing thought.

"Say Myrtle, you said Cat-girl attended the so called 'meeting' didn't you? You sure?"

A pause. "Yes. But why? What does that have to do with anything anyway?"

"Polyjuice potion," Ginny recalled Slughorn's lesson with dread. "Cat-girl's unconscious, I have her wand. I'm going to crash Riddle's party as cat-girl, find out what he's up to, gather incriminating evidence, and report him."

A/N: The last part was written in a bit of haste cos my dad wanted me to sleep now... :(