~*T*~.

"Who removed his own ribs?"

"Guess!"

"I've guessed almost everyone I knew," Peter said sadly.

"Then you're almost there!" Myrtle laughed at her, then swooped down and planted another peck on her lips.

"I like it when you do that," Peter said before she could censor herself.

"I'm glad," Myrtle smiled, brushed her fingers through Peter's hair.

Peter shivered.

~*i*~

"Maybe I didn't think this out as well as I should have," Taylor said, checking her tight sleeves.

"Yeah, we're going to have to buy you new clothes before long," Amy agreed, "But the added fat helps maintain the higher metabolism, and helps reduce your volume to surface area ratio."

"And it's sexy, but not in the same way as your old, tall, slender, muscular self was," Lisa wrapped her arms around Taylor and gave her a hard squeeze.

~*i*~

"That your mum?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Myrtle answered.

"What's her name?"

"Rhonda."

"How'd you get stuck -" Peter, too late, decided there had to be a better way to phrase that.

"I have no idea. I had a bad feeling it was because they conceived me under the crepe myrtle, but it could be they just liked the idea of my name rhyming with both fertile and turtle."

"Ouch."

Peter waved her wand, and there were two short ribs in one of the clear pouches.

~*i*~

"Shh," Lisa said, curled into a chair in the library, Tom-the-Jade-who-was-a-diadem cuddled to her sternum, "I know you're scared, the world can be a very hard place, but it will be OK, there's no need for panic, shh. Amy and Taylor will still love us, and the world will be the same as it ever was."

She patted her pet rock, listening, as much to what he wasn't saying as what he was.

"You don't have to worry about that," Lisa smiled at him, "I lost my blood innocence a long time ago. Some people just need killing."

She listened a moment, "Yeah, probably a lot of the people you killed didn't need killing. Could you have brought them back?" She stroked along the smooth dark green surface of the rock, "Yeah, so you can only work to do better in the future, and work to make a better world, where people don't suffer as much, where governments don't disappear people by the thousands, where death squads don't run rampant through Africa, and Russian girls aren't selling themselves into prostitution as the Soviet Union collapses. If we can figure out a way to keep Afghanistan from collapsing into fundamentalist totalitarianism, that would be good, too, because we'll have Muslim fundie terrorists for decades if we let them really get rolling."

She nodded along, "Yeah, endbringer attacks destroyed several major oil fields, which cut their funding at a critical point. Iran being hit first took the wind out of the Shii'a fundie's sails, and the chaos involved led to another Iraqi invasion of Iran, instead of them invading Kuwait."

She patted the rock, "Yeah, the Americans led a coalition last fall to drive the Iraqi's back out of Kuwait, and they're currently losing the peace after they won the war."

A flicker of movement made her look up, "Oh, dinner time." She rolled off the chair onto her feet, tore down her privacy spells, and tucked Tom-the-Jade-who-was-a-diadem into her pocket.

~*i*~

"Huh," Taylor said, putting down the paper, "Looks like Barty Crouch, Jr. is still alive, and on his way back to Azkaban, with his father this time."

"Oh?" Lisa asked.

"Yep. Sixty arrests and sixty convictions for using the Imperious curse in the last month."

"And none in the previous ten years," Amy sighed, "Probably the Taboo."

"What?" Lisa looked between them, then down at Tom-the-Jade-who-was-a-diadem, "Yeah, probably."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, they'd have the space for two trigger words in the matrix, wouldn't they?" Taylor agreed, "Probably the killing curse, and the torture curse, if Crouch was using the Imperious on his son."

" . . . " Lisa opened her mouth, sighed, and closed it again.

Taylor leaned in and gave her a proper kiss, and Tom-the-Jade-who-was-a-diadem a peck.

Amy reversed the order.

Someone scoffed from across the great hall.

~*i*~

"There's me da," Myrtle bounced.

Peter's eyes followed, up and down, and she blushed as she turned to look for Myrtle's father.

"That her?"

"Yup!"

"They shoulda known better."

"They were kinda old when they had me, like thirty or something. They probably weren't thinking about what kids are like when they chose my name. Ribs!"

Another switching spell, and another pair of rib bones floated in a clear pouch of fluid.

~*i*~

"Third year," Taylor stroked her chin, "Why?"

"Because you're obviously not being challenged by the first year work."

Taylor frowned, opened her mouth.

"Hem, hem," Lisa stopped her, "We've just started making friends, and the third years all know each other well already," she told McGonagall.

"We could pass," Amy started. Lisa poked her in her side. Amy looked at her, then continued, "Our OWLs right now, but we would do better if we had our classes first, I'm sure."

"What they said," Taylor agreed, "There's no need to hurry, the Dark Lord is not coming back this year, and if he was, the difference between first and third year isn't going to make a difference."

"Could we offer you more work, then?"

The three girls crossed gazes. Matching smiles crept across their faces, lifted the corners of their eyes, spread into grins, then into cackling laughter.

"Yes," Taylor managed after a bit, giggling, "That would be wonderful."

McGonagall smiled at them, a little confused.

~*i*~

Peter set the two clear pouches of fluid and ribs in the potions cabinet they had cleared in the room of lost things, "What's next? You said it was around here."

Myrtle nodded, "We need my others as well," she said, "Go wait in my old bathroom."

Peter curtsied, lifting her skirts as she bent her knees, exposing her sheer, black, stockings, "Yes, my lady."

Myrtle let her straighten, then moved in for a kiss.

Peter returned it eagerly, smiled as Myrtle pulled back, "Thank you, my lady."

"You are most welcome. Now go, I'll be there soon."

Peter nodded, then made her way out is a swirl of skirts.

~*T*~