Written for:

Hogwarts: 365 Prompts
Prompt - chitchat

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Round 1
Captain: The Hero- Goal: change the world OR Fear: weakness

Betaed by my fabulous teammates. Thank you so much.

Myrtle's Vision

The once grand manor had stood surrounded by trees and other greenery. There had been a beautiful garden where various animals lived, but now, it was dark and neglected, no longer lovingly tended to by house-elves. The estate had once belonged to the Malfoy family; generations of Malfoys had lived there.

A Malfoy no longer resided within it, but it didn't go unused. No, indeed. Myrtle Warren was its occupant. The Malfoy line was probably rolling in their graves at the very thought of a Mudblood sullying their home, but when Myrtle had conquered Abraxas Malfoy, she took what was rightfully hers as a prize. After all, he couldn't use it while dead. Someone should get some use out of such a big space.

In the middle of the foyer that served as her court, Myrtle sat on an intricate throne of gold and silver woven together to become something truly magnificent. She tapped her wand against her cheek, her mind in deep thought. She kept glancing at some of her followers, their conversation whispered. Myrtle narrowed her eyes as she stood up and walked to the edge of the stage, her navy dress swishing as she moved. She looked down at them, frowning as two women and a man continued discussing something that seemed to be of the utmost importance to them.

She tilted her head and descended the stairs, the bottom of her dress brushing against the floor. She stopped right next to them and, before they realized she was there, Myrtle asked, "What's with all of the chitchat?"

Emmeline Vance took a step back, nearly bumping into Dorcas Meadowes. "Nothing, Myrtle. We were just talking."

"It seemed to be more than just talking, Vance. You're my friend, aren't you?"

Emmeline quickly bobbed her head in a nod.

Myrtle turned her gaze to Dorcas. "And you, Meadowes? Do you have something you want to say to me?"

"No, nothing that I can think of," Dorcas quickly said, averting her gaze to the floor.

Myrtle smiled flirtatiously when she turned her gaze onto the third member of the group. "And what about you, Caradoc?"

"N-No," Caradoc Dearborn stuttered.

"You've always been one of my favorites. You'd tell me if something was going on, wouldn't you, Caradoc?" Myrtle asked, placing her hand on his shoulder, her fingers touching his neck with the barest of caresses.

Caradoc stiffened as Emmeline glared.

Myrtle turned narrowed eyes onto Emmeline. "Problem, Vance?"

Emmeline forced her best smile. "I think you're making my boyfriend uncomfortable."

"He's not uncomfortable. Are you, Caradoc?" There was a threat in Myrtle's voice.

Caradoc quickly shook his head. "And we weren't talking about anything important, Mistress."

She gave his neck one last caress before dropping her hand. "If that's true, then what was the conversation about?"

Emmeline and Dorcas shared a quick and furtive glance, and then they looked at the third member of their group with pleading expressions.

Caradoc answered for the trio. "It was nothing, Mistress, really. Maybe you're just a little paranoid. When you're on top, you have to be careful, but you have nothing to fear from us."

Myrtle narrowed her eyes. "If you say so."

She turned her back on them, resolved to keep an eye out to make sure no one was planning anything traitorous. The girls wouldn't be such a bad loss, and even though she would hate to lose Caradoc, she'd do whatever she had to do to stay in power.

X

Nearly two months later, and she still hadn't gotten over her suspicions of some of her followers, but today was a day to celebrate. After his years of eluding her, she had finally found him.

Myrtle stared at the wall, her finger tapping against her cheek. "Do you know what your crimes are?"

"I haven't done anything wrong."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. "Oh really? Foolish boy." She walked over to him and gripped his chin, staring into his eyes. "Are you forgetting that your mother is a witch?"

"So what? My father is still a Muggle. And you let plenty of Half-bloods live in peace."

Myrtle nodded. "Yes, I do. That's because they embrace both sides of their heritage. They're not ashamed of their Muggle side. They don't try to hide it or act like it's something to be embarrassed about." She paused, caressing his cheek as if he was a cat to soothe. "That's not something that is true for you, Riddle, is it?"

Tom Riddle glared at her. Myrtle noticed the change overcame him. She saw when he realized there was no point in pretending to be humble, and she saw when he threw off the illusion of fear.

"You're nothing," he said. "You're just a Mudblood that got lucky. You deserve nothing of what you received, and you will fall. Your supposed power will be stripped away."

Myrtle smirked. "Really? Then why is it that you're the one on your knees, and I'm the one on a nice, comfortable throne?"

Riddle's eyes were hard as he strained against the chains that kept him immobilized in a kneeling position.

"Do you know how I got here? I had a vision. A way to change the world. I was sick of Muggle-borns being seen as less than dirt. And being treated even worse. The fact of the matter was there were, and still are, more of us than Pure-bloods. Thanks to the inbreeding, Pure-bloods were dying off, and yet, they thought they were better than us? It was laughable. Why should we be scared when we outnumbered them? We deserved to be on top, and they would be lucky if we decided they were worthy enough to breathe our air." Myrtle laughed. "Of course, most of them weren't really worthy of life, so I made sure they were taken care of before they became a problem."

"You're an upstart. Sooner or later, you will fall, and I'm going to love watching that." He smirked as if he was just enjoying his life. It didn't even seem to occur to him that he was her prisoner. It was as if he didn't have a care in the world.

It was annoying.

Myrtle stood up, twirling her wand between her fingers. "We'll see about that. Oh, and Riddle? You are so cute." She giggled. "We could have had fun together, if you only knew how to watch your mouth. You really need to learn how to kiss up to the person that is your new mistress. You might have had a painless death," she sneered. "Crucio!"

Myrtle usually wasn't one to play with her prisoners, but she felt particularly vindictive. While at Hogwarts, Riddle always looked down at her as if she wasn't worthy to even breathe his air. It was disgusting.

She reveled in his screams of anguish. She enjoyed it so much that she didn't want the fun to end. And she was the one in charge, so she could do what she wanted.

She did the Sonorous charm and screamed for Benjy. The wizard ran inside, his eyes going to where Tom Riddle laid unmoving. "Take him to the dungeon," she ordered.

Benjy knew better than to question her and did her bidding. She turned to sit, but the door opening halted her progress. 'It better not be Benjy coming back to annoy me,' she thought.

It wasn't. She smiled at the sight of a familiar witch stepping into the foyer. Her long dark hair was pulled into a simple braid, and her almond eyes looked weary. "Pooja, why are you here today?"

Pooja smiled as well, but it was more reserved. Then again, it always was. "Are you busy?"

"For you, I have all of the time in the world." Myrtle further relaxed. She waved her wand, muttering an incantation, and the heavy door slammed shut so no one would interrupt them. Myrtle pocketed her wand. She smiled easily and gestured to Pooja.

Pooja sat on the edge of the stage, and Myrtle walked to the edge, taking a seat next to her. "Don't tell anyone about their mistress sitting on the ground. They'll never let me forget it." She swung her legs, tapping her heel against the wooden stage. She never had to put up a front with Pooja. She could be herself. It was refreshing

Pooja didn't laugh. She averted her eyes. "Myrtle, I'm worried about you."

"Worried? Why? I have everything I ever wanted. Respect."

"Respect? Or fear? Because they're not the same thing."

Myrtle blinked. "Where is this coming from?"

"I'm scared," Pooja admitted. "When you first decided to change the world and make it better for Muggle-borns, of course, I agreed with you. The way we were treated in school was horrible. And then what we heard about Muggle-borns getting the worst jobs. No matter how smart we were, we would only get the jobs that Pure-bloods didn't want. Of course, I was behind you. We deserved to be treated fairly, based on our intelligence and our power, not our blood status."

"Exactly!" Myrtle nodded. "And that's what I made sure happened. No one will ever look down at us again."

"But Myrtle, now we aren't any better than them. We treat them as if they are lower than low. And most of them are killed. And in some cases, tortured. When I agreed to your plan, I didn't think there would be so much death and misery, and I never wanted our goal to change into something so dark and twisted. This wasn't what I signed up for."

Myrtle swallowed. "You're my best friend. Are you saying you're no longer on my side?"

Pooja took Myrtle's hand, holding it tightly. Her dark skin was a stark contrast to Myrtle's paleness. "I will always be on your side. That's why I'm begging you to stop this. Before it's too late. Before you lose yourself completely."

"Why now? Why are you suddenly saying this?"

"There are whispers of a rebellion," Pooja quietly admitted.

Myrtle scoffed. "So what?"

"It's being led by a Pure-blood and a Muggle-born. They believe in equality for everyone, and they are planning to stop you, no matter what it takes."

"I'm not scared. It wouldn't be the first rebellion I stomped out of existence."

"Myrtle," Pooja pleaded, "Please, think about this. When this started, it wasn't about death, it was about making the world a better place. Don't forget your original vision."

Myrtle stood up, her hands clenched into fists at her side. Her heart hammered as she thought about someone trying to stop her. She had worked so hard for this. She had wanted to change the world, to raise Muggle-borns to a higher place in society. And she had succeeded. No one was greater on the food chain than her people. And now someone was trying to stop her? Trying to bring down everything she had achieved. It was unthinkable!

"Stop saying this nonsense. I'm powerful. I don't need to take this from you. The only reason I haven't killed you after you said all of these things, which is as good as treason to me, is because of our years of friendship. Get out of my face before I change my mind," she threatened.

"Fine, but you should know that Potter and Evans have followers. They certainly have Half-bloods and Pure-bloods on their side. And I wouldn't be surprised if even some Muggle-borns are with them. Not everyone is as comfortable with death as you seem to be, and they will come for you."

Pooja opened the door with her wand and ran out of the foyer before Myrtle could decide to kill her for that parting remark.

Myrtle was left alone with nothing but her thoughts. Despite her brave words to Pooja, Myrtle felt sweat pooling on her forehead, and her heart raced in skyrocketing fear that she could lose. If they had followers, their numbers might be greater than Myrtle's. Still, she was a Ravenclaw. She was smart enough to figure out how to take over the Wizarding World. She was smart enough to figure out how to poison Abraxas Malfoy and never be persecuted for it. She wasn't one to give up on her goal.

Myrtle glared at the door. Let them come. She'd double her strength, gather more witches and wizards willing to fight on her side. Potter and Evans might think they'd outmatch her, but they'd rue the day they doubted her and thought she was an easy target. No one would stop her from changing the world to how she saw fit!

X

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