The Old Prefect's Bathroom
Author: SOrion
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately
Three children were scurrying along the shadowy corridors at Hogwarts, two boys and one girl.
They couldn't have been older than twelve, and they tried to slip along the dark corners, as to not be detected.
The boy in front whispered to the girl that was right behind him, carrying a huge amount of books for a little girl: "Are you sure we won't be discovered in there?"
"Of course not!" huffed the girl. "No one ever goes in there."
The third of the little procession rolled his eyes. He knew that it might be imperative to brew the detecting potion, or they might never figure out, why all those students returned out of that one part of the library with a ghastly rash. But that didn't mean that he wanted to be caught brewing a potion with stolen ingredients from Potions Master Killian. She must have been the most horrible Potions Master, ever, he was sure of it. "Why are you so sure that no one goes in there, Carigan?"
Carigan huffed, again. "Honestly! Haven't you ever read 'Hogwarts: A History'?"
Both boys simultaneously rolled their eyes.
They passed the portrait of Harry Potter The Mighty that smiled at them kindly, maybe a little wistfully – a fact that freaked the trio out and usually kept them from these parts of the castle.
The boy in the lead whispered to his companions, frantically: "Why does he keep staring at us, anyway?"
"I don't know, Michael," whispered Carigan back. "But he's a hero. Everyone knows that. He's entitled to a little staring."
The other boy snorted. "You mean, everyone who's as hooked on ancient history as you, knows him."
Cardigan threw him an affronted look. "Well, Stuart, everyone should know him! He saved the wizarding world a dozen times over." She turned to Michael. "You know him, don't you?"
Michael shrugged. "I know he fought some dark wizard of sorts…" he answered vaguely.
Cardigan stared at them incredulously for a moment, then stomped ahead and ignored her two clueless friends.
Michael and Stuart ran after her.
Stuart finally asked, just as they reached their destination. "Now, why is it, exactly, that no one comes, here?"
Cardigan put her hand on the handle of the door. "Moaning Myrtle."
The boys shared a confused look and asked simultaneously: "Who's Moaning Myrtle?"
"A ghost. Obviously!" She didn't specify why it would be obvious, but opened the door.
Michael stepped in after her. "Why would they call a ghost 'moaning', in the first place?"
Cardigan shrugged. "The book doesn't go into detail about that, though I don't know why…" She seemed unable to understand anyone wanting to withhold information, no matter how unimportant.
As soon as they had all entered, they could hear the first moan.
Three pairs of eyes widened.
The moan was followed by another, deeper one and then a high-pitched voice purring: "I always did say you were the handsome one…"
The three second years peered around the corner to see the bathtub in the old prefect's bathroom, to see the celestial forms of two seemingly young ghosts.
And, from what they could see through their shock, the young man did, indeed, look very handsome.
On an unvoiced signal, the three friends turned around and ran, the door closing behind them just as they could hear another moan, and none of them wondered, anymore, just how Myrtle came upon her name…
End