Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my original characters.

Trigger warnings: bullying.

Chapter Five: The Strange Girl from Slytherin

Myrtle didn't expect she could hate another person like her sister who had stopped talking to her after she sent her first letter by owl to her family. Yet, she did: Olive Hornby. A girl who Myrtle saw as a blonde replica of Holly: mean, popular and pretty. A girl who would throw hexes to first years and Myrtle because she felt like it. The girl who had killed her owl Gandalf despite there was little evidence that supported this theory. The arsenic was a jab at Myrtle's Muggle-born status.

For a Half-blood, Hornby was very disdainful towards Muggle-borns, which had increased her popularity among the Slytherins.

After two years of having one friend, Myrtle reached a conclusion: loneliness was her only true companion that would help her during the remaining years of school. Myrtle could care less for friendship or bonding with students of her own House, despite Minnie's insistence that she should make an effort.

It was easier said than done.

If Myrtle had begun to hate her life at Hogwarts, the Holidays with her family only discouraged her from studying magic, which was mainly caused by Holly. Her twin's acting was as good as her singing voice: to her parents – who remained ignorant of the bullying and her suicide attempts because she had kept it secret – Holly was the "perfect daughter". In short, Holly was not also her younger twin but the apple of her parents' eye. Logically, she was the one who almost the entire family doted on much more.

However, to Myrtle, she would show her true colours by hitting her harshly when they were alone. The Warren twins grew apart with each day to the point of Holly "accidentally" pushing her into the village's river. Myrtle had almost drowned that day.

The outcome of this burst of magic had been a Ministry letter being sent to her house on the grounds of underage magic...

Muttering about the unfairness of her life, the Ravenclaw walked down the stone path that led to her latest favourite spot in all of Hogwarts: a centuries-old oak located not too far from the Astronomy Tower. Its shade also served as a nice place to read or rest until the time for dinner, while the bark had small or medium-sized indentations that were typical of someone practising spells.

But the most unsettling thing about this tree's bark was a strange symbol that looked like a triangular eye, the eye being a circle around a straight vertical line. Below it, the sentence "For the Greater Good" had been engraved with magic, a bunch of words that did not make any sense to Myrtle until she read in the newspapers about Grindelwald and his "philosophy" of a better world which basically meant Muggle genocide, reminding her of Hitler and his anti-Jewish (not just Jews, but especially them) views.

Frankly, both men gave her the shivers. She hoped that Grindelwald's capture would not take too long and that the "Muggle World War" – as wizarding newspapers called it – would also end.

Arriving at the tree, Myrtle held closer the book she was carrying and sat in the small portion of uneven soil that was perfect for someone to accommodate themselves. Leaning against the bark, she began reading the book, carefully mimicking the necessary wrist movements to cast spells she was struggling to perform in Professor Merrythought's class. As time went by, her eyelids became heavier...

The last thing she heard before falling asleep was the melodic chirping of nearby sparrows.

When she woke up again, Myrtle quickly checked up her schedule and sighing over the fact the next class today would be Potions, started to pick up her things. Raising from her spot, she turned around and saw a dark spot on top of a branch that was too much bigger to belong to a squirrel or a bird. Squinting her eyes, the bespectacled girl looked closer and her eyebrows rose in surprise: there was a sleeping girl sitting on the highest, as well the most instable-looking branch. She had long dark blue hair with a distinctive white streak on the right side of her face and the uniform tie adorned her hair like a braid. The girl also looked a bit older than Myrtle. One leg was loosely hanging off the branch and one arm was on the back of her head, the second resting on her lap. Her hand was on the top of what could be a sketchbook.

In another branch, a Hogwarts cloak, a black suitcase, and a pouch had been hung in a precarious position.

Eyes showing a mix of wariness and inquisition, Myrtle was conflicted between alerting the other student for literally being on the edge of falling several meters down and going her own way, back to another dreadful Potions class. She did not dislike Professor Slughorn, but the subject just didn't appeal to her and her partner was awful to her.

In the end, her "Gryffindor Myrtle" won the battle and she shouted (which came out more like a shrill) to the girl who instantly opened her eyes and expertly jumped to the ground, centimetres away from Myrtle's face. Immediately, the raven-haired let out a small shriek. The other girl's eyes were of different colours: one was dark grey, the other was golden. Also, both eyes showed unbridled curiosity and the bright smile on the owner's face seemed genuine, friendlier than what she was used to seeing in her school life.

Another second passed and the items levitated into its owner's waiting hand. The girl then put away the sketchbook inside the pouch - An Extensible Charmed object, definitely - and rearranged the tie – emerald and silver, which meant Slytherin - in its proper place. Placing the cloak around the crook of her right arm, she adjusted the strap of the suitcase with the other hand. Myrtle idly noticed the tip of a wand peeking out of its owner's sleeve before it disappeared back into its hiding place.

"Quite a good spot, don't you think?" Those were the first words Myrtle heard from the mouth of the girl who was gesturing at the tree with her thumb. "Nice and quiet, a good shade."

Putting her hands on her hips in a reprehending gesture, Myrtle admonished her, "What were you thinking?! You could have broken an arm or two!"

"Relax, Twin-tails," the girl said, raising her hands in a placating gesture, mismatched eyes showing playfulness. However, Myrtle was not happy with the name she had just been christened with, remembering all the stupid nicknames other students had given to her, driving her to near seclusion, consequences be damned. "I appreciate your concern, but I am used to sleeping in high places, like over there," she pointed her thumb to the roof of the Astronomy Tower. "A bit too high perhaps. However, you get the feeling you're reaching the clouds." Her dreamy tone was promptly dismissed by Myrtle who considered it as another of this strange girl's quirks, ignoring the slap on her shoulder.

"See you in class then, Twin-tails".

Red cheeks puffing off in embarrassment, Myrtle could not restrain herself anymore and shouted to the unnamed girl who was well already on her way back, each step sounding weaker. "Hey! I…I am…" She stammered with hands curled into fists, bespectacled eyes angrily looking at the floor before she rose her head. "I have a proper name!" Myrtle did not remember the last time she had shouted in a non-shrilling annoying voice. Usually, when she was being subjected to verbal abuse, she would ignore them and later suffer in silence. But she could sense this girl's intentions did not have any ulterior motives, which compelled the twelve years old to tell her full name fearlessly. "It's Myrtle. Myrtle Elizabeth Warren!"

The girl smiled over her shoulder and quickly descended down the stone path right where Myrtle was, extending her hand in a friendly gesture. "My name is Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane, born on 31st December at precisely noon, Slytherin and currently repeating the third year. But you can simply call me Azure," she shrugged. "Or anything that you choose..." Her face approached Myrtle's as if she wanted to confide in her a secret, the latter blushing at the proximity. "Periwinkle..." She breathed, clearly mesmerized by Myrtle's eyes.

"What?"

"That's the shade of your eye colour, isn't it? Periwinkle blue," the Slytherin clarified.

"What about it?" Myrtle asked back in a defensive tone, suspicion flashing in her eyes.

"They are beautiful," Ashlane said bluntly, adding in a softer voice. "Just like their namesake…and their owner."

Those words did it; at first, she wanted nothing more than to find a place to bury her head in like ostriches do in times of distress – as she had read in a book – due to the sudden compliment - she never received a compliment before, not like this – but now...Myrtle was feeling strange. As if this girl in front of her would become someone important to her. But that would take time; not too much after being Sorted, Myrtle had become distrustful of the other students on a principle basis.

"Ashlane, huh?" The younger girl repeated, shying away from the hand as if it was something poisonous. "Why would I believe anything you say to me? You could just be mocking me like all of you Slytherins do!"

"It's your choice to believe me or not," The girl replied easily, her hand still extended. "So…are we waiting for the grass to grow or what? Take it or leave it."

After an uncomfortable silence, Myrtle gave in and shook it once, her eyes unblinking. "This does not mean we are friends!"

"As I said, it will always be your own choice." The look in her mismatched eyes became sharper, but Myrtle did not feel malicious intent, just pure honesty. "I don't want to force you to anything. And I don't want to know you because I pity you; it severely irritates me those that do it." The Ravenclaw concurred inwardly; she too didn't want anyone's pity. In spite of this, something was telling her this Ashlane girl – it would take some time until Myrtle reached a first-name-basis – would be different…

"Trust your instincts."

An image of a man with periwinkle blue eyes, an aged face, reddish-grey hair and whose bangs nearly fell on his eyes flashed in her mind before disappearing. It belonged to no one else than Grandpa. His catchphrase was "Trust your instincts". According to him, this "gut feeling" had saved his life more than once.

For two years, she had put her trust in the wrong people. Two years of experience with backstabbers which had caused enough scars, some not only physical. The only person who had not betrayed her was Minnie.

"Fine then. We will be…acquaintances."

And with an imperious tone of voice befitting of a Pure-blood Heiress, she spun on her wheel, her chin raised up in a haughty manner.

"Oh, we really should hurry up because we're already late for Professor Slughorn's class," Ashlane remarked as she caught up with the more petite girl, jumping back and forward, both hands behind her head. "As much I adore that man's understanding personality, I don't want any Prefect or Prefect-to-be to comment on our tardiness," she childishly stuck her tongue and squinted her eyes as if she had just eaten something very spicy, walking at the same pace as Myrtle. "Especially him."

Myrtle gave Ashlane a look that clearly said "elaborate", which she did one second later, hand poised over her heart as she let out a dramatic sigh.

"The one and only Golden Boy of our most excellent school..." Her mismatched eyes narrowed in clear dislike, her voice more ominous-sounding. "…Tom Riddle."

Myrtle blinked; that name was the same name that would be frequently mentioned by the inseparable and insufferable threesome – Patricia Travers, Lorena Fortescue, and Olive Hornby – as they gossiped over a tall, darkly handsome boy…otherwise called by Fortescue as "my beloved Thomas".

It could be him…but why does this girl seem to hate the Riddle boy when from what I've heard, he is well-liked by everyone, except for Minnie?

The name automatically brought a small smile in the petite's face. During the weekend, they would sit side by side in the library with their respective books and study together. Minnie had also taught the petite girl to play chess, although Myrtle had only been victorious a couple of times.

On the other hand, Minnie had never lost a game until Myrtle saw the defeated look on the older girl's face as her king piece was cornered in every way possible by the opponent player's pawn and a bishop. In other words, "Checkmate." The player in question had been the "tall, darkly handsome" Tom Riddle. She knew Minnie would hold a grudge; the older girl was very competitive and a talented student, which had served as the fuel she needed to become a Prefect.

Wait a minute…months ago, Diggory and Minnie were talking about a female student who had rescued a Muggle-born…and that the student was the same person involved in a duelling incident, she mused, a frown appearing on her bespectacled face. What was the name of the student again?

"You cannot possibly think she is involved in that attack. Roxanne McMillan or Walburga Black, perhaps. But Ashlane?"

"Probably, this Ashlane is the same girl Minnie was talking about…" Myrtle deducted, her voice barely a whisper, slowing in her steps as she thought about the events that had transpired some minutes ago. Letting out a sigh, the petite realized what this meant: being a Ravenclaw, Myrtle enjoyed solving puzzles and today she had met another one: a strange girl from Slytherin.

Indeed, she was simply incapable of denying the fact she felt…intrigued by this Ashlane who was a Slytherin, yet she acted nothing like a normal Slytherin would: a Slytherin defending Muggle-borns and attacking Pure-bloods?

That would be the equivalent to Malfoy suddenly proclaiming his undying love for Elaine Weasley.

She snorted mentally at the unlikely scenario.

But why did the girl mention Professor Slughorn? Myrtle was pretty sure the girl was not her classmate in Potions...or did she?

Suddenly, a dark blue head and arms positioned as a makeshift cushion that usually rested against the Slytherin table flashed in her mind. Myrtle had never given too much thought to it before; there were more important issues she needed to sort out…

Either way, you're just an enigma for me to solve. That's it! She thought decidedly, walking side by side with the strange girl from Slytherin called Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane.

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