The pathetic Father Weasley immediately expended his collected worth in the space of an instant when he won a grand draw from the newspaper; luck was a thematic and expendable resource so it stood to reason Weasley Sr. wouldn't amount to anything for at least the next decade or so. This, however, played right into my hands so well I couldn't have hexed this result out of him better if I tried. Not that the money wasn't useful in and of itself, but I hadn't been to Egypt before.

We were to visit the only Weasley that had a respectable job and may have been worth something, despite his Muggle name, William Weasley who worked as a Curse Breaker and potential in for Goblin relations to my cause. In comparison to all of my holidays as Tom at the accursed Wool's Orphanage, it had been a pleasurable time. Not just Egypt and its myriad dark delights, but staying in a wizarding household, and pathetically destitute the family Weasley may have been they were still Pureblood; which meant both parents Weasley befuddled the Trace.

It was the first holiday I ever had where I could use magic.

It was surprisingly freeing, being Ginevra Weasley. Of course there was still a certain amount of banal conversation I was expected to participate in with her brothers and parents, a skill I had long learned as Tom, but otherwise I was left to my own devices to do more or less whatever I wanted. I made a mental note to gloat about this to the other Voldemort when I saw him next.

But, as all things that weren't entirely horrible were wont to do, the summer holiday passed and brought with it a much preferred term at Hogwarts. There was a brief surprise when one of the other me's Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban to kill Harry Potter, and I decided I may have to do something about that since I hadn't fully decided on whether or not I would be the one to kill Potter and I abhorred true competition; in matters like this at least. Committing murder wasn't meant to be a trial, that was why the killing curse had been invented, to take the unnecessary effort out of it.

When it came time to buy my new school supplies it became an ordeal involving every other Weasley in the house piling through the fireplace and coming out in the Leaky Cauldron, where we had rooms for the night. Incidentally, Potter was staying here as well because he had blown up his Muggle aunt in a fit of childish pique. Ah, to be young again. I had once caused one of my fellow orphans to go blind when they stole my pencil, he hadn't ever fully recovered.

I smiled at the memory, perhaps Potter wouldn't be so bad after all if this is what he did when on holiday. Ginevra's second hand account had been biased at best, which also led to my overestimating of Gilderoy Lockheart and his subsequent demise, from actually reading his books over the summer I had come to realise the man was an idiot; and if the same rule held for Potter he would be a miserable, cruel little worm who I could no doubt suborn even easier than I had done with the rest of the Weasley family.

I didn't have high hopes after the whole Chamber of Secrets debacle, but still.

Unfortunately Potter was out somewhere, causing the mother Weasley to drag us all on a hunt for the boy as we bought our own school supplies; all in second or third hand, just as mine as Tom had been. Which really was pathetic on the Weasley's part, I was a Knutless orphan and at least three of them had jobs on top of being wizards. Was it too hard to confund a muggle and exchange the money at Gringots? Or cast the summoning charm to hoover up loose change? Honestly, I'd be glad to be away from them and their inferior problem solving skills.

The rest of the shopping passed without real incident, save for the depressing trip to Madam Malkin's that forcefully reminded me of how much of a girl Ginevra's body was. I much preferred to be male, and though I wasn't really in a position to complain considering; it was pretty terrible. Ginevra was annoyingly short and skinny and frail. As Tom I had made sure to eat healthily and do my exercises, just another habit that made me better than every other student at Hogwarts, in order to maximise my potential and I fully intended to continue this as Ginevra. If fact, the only attribute that didn't displease me about Ginevra's body was that she was the cute sort of child you could tell would grow up to be an attractive adult, much as I had been as a young boy, and there was a certain edge being attractive gave you even if you didn't know how to leverage it. Not that I would be leveraging it, as Tom I had staunchly refused to flirtingly cajole homosexuals and I would continue that trend as Ginevra, in spirit if not letter.

I hoped the other Voldemort still shared my opinion, but he had turned himself into an hideous, but admirable, grotesquery and so clearly stopped having pride in his appearance. I understood though, he cut an intimidating figure. Mysterious and dangerous. Yes, and with red eyes; I resolved to learn whatever ritual he had done to achieve this effect and perform it for myself. Hopefully the red eyes wouldn't clash with my new hair.

Eventually we arrived back at The Leaky Cauldron without me hexing anyone out of sheer boredom and discovered our search for Potter was an absolute waste of my time as the boy was right where we started.

Ginevra's brothers greeted him, one properly which caused the twinned pair to go off on one of their trite comedy routines before custom dictated I give my greeting last; as both the 'youngest' and 'least magically powerful'.

"Hello, Harry," I said. Humble, demure even, thankful for his saving me.

He smiled, "hey Ginny, how are you?"

I could detect no malice, not a hint of ill intent behind his vacant eyes, and so immediately designated him as worthless beyond that I should probably murder him at some point if only for posterity's sake. I turned to something that was more interesting, if only marginally so.

I caught a flash of orange as Ronald's Muggleborn friend hoisted a cage.

"Where did you get that?"

The Muggleborn tucked a strand of its enormous hair behind its ear, "at the petshop just down the street, I'm so glad I bought him." She smiled and poked a finger through the cage front to tickle its nose. "He'd been in there for so long, the poor thing, no one wanted him."

I leaned in to get a closer look, I did like cats after all. They weren't snakes but there were worse animals.

"I can't see why, the thing is at least half Kneazle-"

The hybrid took this moment to throw a magnificent fit in its attempt to get as far away from me as it possibly could, hissing and spitting all the while. I recalled that Kneazles could detect untrustworthy people and resolved to drown the thing at my earliest convenience.

"I think it has brain problems," I told the girl as she tried impotently to calm it down.

"He's just overwhelmed, I suspect, he's not been around so many people before."

"No wonder it was so cheap," I continued, planting the seeds of doubt. "Nobody wants a broken Kneazle."

"He's not broken," she said defensively, despite having only known the thing for the better part of half an hour.

I shrugged carelessly, then realised I was still the girl. "Sorry, I didn't mean it. You're probably right, once you get him used to people again I'm sure he'll be the best cat ever."

She gave me another smile and dragged her soon to be dead cat up the stairs, leaving me with Ginevra's family and Potter.

I immediately left to go read my schoolbooks, as even the tedium of revising content I knew off by heart was better than their company.