Ginny twirled a strand of long red hair around her finger as she watched Riddle prepare for the prefect meeting. The Head Boy had an annoyed look on his face while he set out stacks of papers, but looking annoyed wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence for him, so Ginny wasn't excessively concerned.

She was staring so intently that she didn't notice Riddle turn around until he cleared his throat loudly, his eyes narrowed into a glare.

"Don't you have anything to do?" he asked sharply. Ginny shrugged.

"No, not really. You insisted on getting everything ready, so…"

Riddle muttered something under his breath and returned to his work.

Bored, the Head Girl grabbed one of the pieces of paper he had already set out. It wasn't anything more than a list of assigned partners, and she already knew who was with who, but she looked it over anyway. It gave her something to do.

Abraxas and Orion… Grace and Erin… Cassiopeia and Charlus Potter, Tom and Ginevra… WHAT?

Ginny focused her sharp gaze on the Head Boy.

"Not that I don't completely adore you, Riddle, but why did you put us together?" she asked casually. "We already chose the pairs. What happened to Avery?"

Riddle's eyes flashed over to her momentarily before returning to the stack of magical photos that he was organizing.

"I prefer to have Avery working with McCreery on this project," he said dismissively. "It will benefit both of them."

"Why would you think that?" pressed Ginny, more than a little surprised at his reasoning. Despite herself, she couldn't help but remember the black ink she had seen on Mason's left forearm. What if Riddle was having Mason and Avery work on Death Eater business together?

"Oh, no reason," Riddle assured her. He finished with the pictures and set them on the coffee table, then regally lowered himself into his emerald green chair. "No reason at all."

The Head Boy was saved from more questioning when the portrait swung open. Tyler Avery hopped into the room, completely ruining the good mood that Ginny had begun the day with. Of course, the Dark Lord's puppy would be the one who just had to arrive early.

"My Lord," Avery said cheerfully, bowing to his master. Apparently Riddle had told him it was no longer necessary to act secretive around her. "Such a beautiful evening, isn't it?" The sandy-haired boy spun around so that he was facing Ginny. "So, so beautiful. Tell me, Miss Ginevrinny, don't you think so too?"

"Perhaps," she muttered venomously. "Although it would be even better if you weren't here."

Riddle smirked, and Avery, probably sensing a hex coming on, skipped over to an empty chair beside his master and plopped down.

Avery began muttering a continuous stream of words under his breath (silent conversation?), and the sound filled the room until the portrait creaked open once more. The rest of the Slytherin prefects had arrived, standing in formation outside of the door with Cygnus Black in front.

The tall, lanky Slytherin's usually mocking stare turned into a handsome smile when his eyes landed on Ginny. Without ceremony, he ambled over to her chair, grabbed her hand, and kissed it.

"I've heard so much about you, Ginevra," he said smoothly.

Ginny couldn't help but laugh. There was no way that Cygnus Black would go out of his way to greet a Hufflepuff without a reason.

"Abraxas asked you to do this, didn't he?" Ginny asked with a small smile, butterflies erupting in her stomach as she thought of their patrol for the millionth time.

Cygnus nodded, but his beautiful dark eyes shone with approval. This made Ginny a lot happier than it should have.

"More or less. Although Abraxas Malfoy does not ask for things," the youngest Black laughed smoothly. "He orders. Not that I required much prodding. You are quite smart… for a Hufflepuff. Rather pretty, too."

If she hadn't been so flustered by his compliments, Ginny probably would have laughed out loud when Abraxas hurried over to them after that last comment. He cuffed Cygnus on the back of the head and muttered, "Enough of the chivalry. I don't want her pining after you."

"She has the right to pine after whoever she likes," retorted Cygnus with a smile. Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but her words died in her throat when Abraxas easily settled himself beside her in the over-sized armchair.

"Not for very long," Abraxas drawled easily, his vibrant eyes not leaving Ginny's face as she spoke. "Isn't that right, Ginny?"

She swallowed, and, not wanting to answer, hastily replied, "I hope you realize that I am the Head Girl. I'm supposed to be setting an example for everyone else, which doesn't include having a Slytherin sitting in my lap."

Abraxas grinned and leaned into her slightly, tilting his face so that his eyes were way too close. Heart pounding against her chest, Ginny forced herself to stay calm. Riddle was watching, and he could not see her looking like a love-sick fool, even if she sure felt like one at that moment.

"You are setting an example, Gin. That doesn't mean it's necessarily a good one." She elbowed his ribs, and he raised his hands innocently. "Fine, fine, fine. I'll leave. On one condition."

"And what's that?" Ginny asked, pretty sure that she wouldn't mind the condition too much. Even though he was a Slytherin, he certainly wasn't one who terrified her. Much.

"Meet me tomorrow night by the old oak next to the lake," he whispered, his cool breath dancing across her face. It smelled like pineapple. Ginny wondered how he managed to get his hands on something that was so scarce with the war going on, then remembered that he was a Malfoy. It would not have been difficult for him.

"What time?" asked Ginny. Virtually all of the prefects had arrived, and most of them were staring at her and Abraxas. This was not good for Riddle's opinion of her.

Not like she really cared much at that moment.

"Eleven," Abraxas said. Then Ginny felt his cool lips on her forehead before he pushed himself out of the chair and led Cygnus off to where the other Slytherins were sitting.

Ginny wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt and let out a relieved breath. That hadn't been too humiliating.

The last prefect strolled into the room, and Ginny announced, in a slightly breathless voice, "Okay, I think we can start now. Our first order of business is to go into more detail about our help-the-orphans project. I would appreciate it if you would all grab one of the yellow sheets from the table, then move next to the person who you are to work with."

There was the general noise that came with twenty-four different people crowding around a tiny space, then even more commotion as protests rang out from various students. Abraxas glared at Riddle, no doubt blaming him for Ginny's new partnering, Cassiopeia cursed about getting stuck with Charlus Potter, and Avery was happily calling, "Macey McQueery, come, come, come! We have much to discuss."

Eventually the noise died down enough for Ginny to resume the meeting, taking the time to hand out photos and sheets of information to each pair. When she gave Cassiopeia the picture of the seven-year-old boy who she and Charlus would be helping, the black-haired witch let out a noise of disgust.

"Hideous little orphan. Give me another one," she demanded irately. "This creature is beyond my help."

Ginny stiffened at the cruelty in her words. It wouldn't be beyond Cassiopeia to kill the kid if she wanted to. Hell, she'd probably even laugh at his death. Take joy in his suffering. Just like Bellatrix.

"I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!"

"Have your parents remembered how to feed themselves yet, Longbottom?"

"Haha, two Weasels down, only a handful to go. Don't worry, little girl, it'll all be over soon."

"Maybe I should go off and kill your entire family," Ginny snapped unthinkingly. "Then, when I'm finished, I'll take away all your possessions and leave you on the street to die. Maybe that would change how you feel about those who are 'beyond help'."

Ginny's eyes scanned the room, looking for backup, but the prefects did nothing but stare at her like she was a mental patient. Irately, the Head Girl demanded, "What? I'm a Hufflepuff, not a bloody saint!"

Then, her hands still shaking with anger, Ginny stomped back to her seat.

The common room became deadly quiet until Avery, with his usual bluntness, demanded, "Where's the picture of my darling little charge?"

This lightened the mood a little, but the tension was still evident enough that Riddle dismissed the prefects very soon after. Most of them left in a hurry, clearly eager to be away from the crazy head girl, but Abraxas stayed long enough to whisper, "Don't worry about Cassie, she's a bitch," before he left too.

Even though Malfoy's words helped slightly, Ginny was still angry, both with Cassiopeia and herself. She shouldn't have lost it like that, but Merlin, if the Slytherin girl did not learn to shut her mouth soon, Riddle wouldn't be the only murderer in the school.

"That was impressive."

The smooth words jerked Ginny out of her thoughts. She had forgotten that the Head Boy was still sitting next to her.

"What?" she asked.

"Your temper," Riddle explained. The intensity in his eyes showed that he wasn't mocking her for her lack of control. He was being honest. "Everyone in the room, save for myself, was terrified of you. Your show of power was enticing."

Ginny absolutely despised the way that she shivered when he used the word 'enticing'. What kind of insane deity blessed a person like Riddle with a voice that was so damned seductive?

"I wasn't trying to be controlling, or powerful," Ginny replied firmly, forcing herself to forget that the words 'Riddle', 'enticing', and 'seductive' had all been in her head at once. "All that I wanted was to get Cassiopeia Black to shut her mouth. The threat wasn't serious. I'm not a murderer."

Riddle smirked. Of course, he had already known that.

"No, you are not. A murderer would not have been sorted into Hufflepuff. I have no doubts about your goodness, Peverell. I have only become curious as to what lies behind it."

"You honestly believe that I'm good? Didn't you just see me threaten to kill off the entire Black family?" Ginny snorted. Then again, Riddle probably found no problem with her actions at all. His idea of good and evil was twisted beyond recognition.

The Head Boy's response to her question, however, was not what Ginny had expected.

"Threatening someone and acting against them are two very different things," he replied. "And your threat was for a morally justifiable cause, besides. You are… passionate, but about things that most consider right. If you believe in what is considered ethically moral, you can kill dozens and be heralded for it."

Ginny stared at him. His words made sense, but there was something in them that made her slightly uneasy. It was a moment before she realized what it was.

"You're justifying yourself," she accused. "Trying to make me see that I'm being unfair to you just because we don't see eye to eye."

Riddle stared back. "And is it not working?"

She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it quickly, rethinking her answer. Not hearing him out would do nothing for her in his eyes. With careful wording, Ginny replied, "I can't say that yet. I don't know what you believe in."

There was a short pause, and Ginny could imagine Riddle sifting through possible responses in his head, looking for the one that would present himself in the best light. Finally, he answered, "I believe in nothing more than giving power to those who deserve it."

"So it's a blood purity thing," she replied, "seeing as you're a Slytherin."

"In a way," he admitted rather coolly. "However, my distaste of Muggles does not stem from mindless bigotry. I am able to see that they are nothing more than cruel animals, and Muggleborns undeserving of what they are given. My efforts comes from little more than my desire to put everyone in their rightful place."

Ginny could feel the effect of his charisma full-force. Despite everything she knew about the Heir of Slytherin, despite knowing that all he wanted was revenge and power, she couldn't help but wonder if he was telling the truth.

Did Riddle actually believe that he was doing the right thing? Was he just ignorant and confused? Ginny searched his face for any sign that he was lying, but found nothing. Maybe his treatment of Muggles did not stem from the need for revenge, but rather the conviction that they actually deserved it.

Then Ginny noticed the barest hint of smugness buried in the depths of his eyes, and her jaw clenched. The prat was lying his arse off. All that he wanted was to fool her into thinking he was nothing more than a poor, misunderstood orphan.

Like that was ever going to happen.

"I don't believe you," Ginny said as tolerantly as she could. "You're too smart to be so… blind. I know you came from a Muggle orphanage, Riddle, and they are terrible places, but to let a childhood grudge dictate your whole life is beneath you."

There was a very, very long silence after that. Ginny didn't know if Riddle was offended, surprised, angry… his face stayed completely emotionless the entire time, not giving away anything. She was actually getting kind of nervous that she had pushed him too far when he finally spoke.

"If a hatred for Muggles is not my driving force, what do you think is?"

Riddle's words, especially the detached curiosity purveyed in his voice, allowed Ginny to relax enough to come up with a logical response.

"You still live at an orphanage, you're obviously dirt poor, and from what I can tell, you have no real friends. Your life has been crap, Riddle, and I think that you're just trying to make sure everyone else has an even shittier time than you've had."

Ginny was talking down to him. Her voice, despite her best efforts, had become superior and condescending, and, like she had been expecting for a moderately long time, Riddle drew his wand. He didn't point it at her, just rested it in his lap, but his point was made. He was starting to get angry.

Without thinking about it, Ginny put her hand on her own wand.

"Do you really believe that I am that childish?" Riddle asked dangerously.

"Childish?" laughed Ginny. Her voice was slightly hysterical, but she pushed forward. "I doubt that you have ever been childish. Honestly, though. If you aren't fighting for revenge, and I really don't think that you believe all Muggles are as bad as the ones you grew up with, then what is your little group fighting for?"

Riddle studied his wand, turning it over in his hands again and again. Ginny's eyes followed the graceful twirling until he finally returned the stick of the wood to the pocket of his robes.

"Power," he finally said. His voice was strained. "I just want power."

Ginny stood, sensing that the conversation was coming to a close.

"I don't think that you're looking in the right place, then. Look at Salazar Slytherin. Julius Caesar. Nero. World War II is winding down in the Muggle world, and Hitler sure as hell isn't winning. Riddle, you're playing the bad guy right now, and they usually never get the last laugh."

Then she hurried out of the common room, wanting to get very, very far away before her words could sink in.