Hey all!

Thanks for all the congratulations on my driver's license. I'm finally experiencing some real freedom in my life and you know what? I actually look forward to opportunities to drive now. I used to dread it.

Anyway, glad to hear the wonderful feedback as usual. People are weighing in on their opinions of Remus's complicity in his friends actions and how much of that was fear or selfishness. It's pretty interesting to hear your thoughts about it.

Here's some bathroom antics.

If Someone Cared Enough

Chapter Sixty-Nine: Startling Realizations

"Sorry for all the trouble, Myrtle," Thea apologized yet again, dipping her sponge into a puddle on the floor and ringing it out over a bucket.

Myrtle crossed her arms, the epitome of petulant teenager.

"You should be," she sniffed, "Here I've been nothing but kind to you lot and you get my bathroom, my home, destroyed. I should think you should be groveling more."

"Oh come off it, Myrtle," Simone snapped, scrubbing a scorch mark out of the wall with her toothbrush, "How were we supposed to know those louts were going to come in here and wreck the place? Most of this damage is there doing, not ours."

A displeased hum came from the doorway.

"That still doesn't explain why the lot of you were traipsing about the girl's loo," McGonagall said as she supervised the detention, "Alone. With several boys to boot."

"but just two, though," Simone defended.

McGonagall was not impressed.

Simone gave a sheepish grin to her teacher, "I know that looked bad, Professor, but I promise we were just talking. Honest," she added, seeing the skeptical expression on her professor's face.

McGonagall raised a thin eyebrow, "I hardly think the bathroom is an appropriately place to hold a conversation."

Simone waved her hand dismissively, "Are you kidding? The bathroom is the perfect place to talk. So quiet and private. Me and Thea get all our best talking done in the loo, don't we, Thea?"

"Don't drag me into this," Thea said, focusing on cleaning up the water around her.

Simone sighed, returning to her scrubbing, "This is would be a lot easier with magic."

"If it were easy, it wouldn't be a punishment," McGonagall quipped.

Simone rolled her eyes, thankfully facing away from her professor, "Yeah, but we've been at it for days. This would have been done ages ago if we could use magic. Instead, it's taking forever and no one can use the loo here. Snape and Evans have cleaned, Nesme's cleaned. MacDonald…Davis…"

"All of whom helped in destroying the bathroom," McGonagall said, "And therefore in just as much trouble."

"A great deal of trouble," Myrtle added angrily.

Simone held her hands up, "Technically, we didn't destroy anything. Black was firing the real explosive stuff. I just deflected it…into the wall," she eyed the segment of crumbled stonework off to her left.

"Which will take Professor Flitwick quite a bit of time to repair," McGonagall said with a hint of irritation, "All because you lot were so reckless."

Simone huffed, "Again, it was self-defense. Potter and his cronies started the whole thing. Shouldn't they be here doing this?"

"I assure you, Mister Filch has been overseeing their evening tasks of re-grouting the tiles," McGonagall pointedly informed Simone, "By hand."

"Well, that's at least something," Simone muttered, ignoring Thea's attempts to hush her, "Seems a little unfair that Lupin is left out of this. He was there too."

"Oh hush," Thea chided, "Remus wasn't a part of the fight. Besides, he's got enough to deal with after breaking up with his friends."

"Oh boo-hoo," Simone said mockingly, "He finally ditched people who were toxic to him. How awful."

Thea glared at Simone, unimpressed.

"Why are you so defensive of him anyway?" Simone asked, side eyeing Thea, "I thought you didn't like the guy. You chewed him out and everything."

"Just because I disliked his past complicity in his ex-friends' actions doesn't mean I hate him," Thea said simply, "He deserves a second chance just as much as anyone else. If he's going to try to make up for his past choices, who am I to hold it against him?"

Simone eyed Thea suspiciously, "Still…you're spending an awful lot of time with him lately."

"He's lonely," Thea defended, "Why are you so bothered by it?"

"Because he's a Maurader," Simone said.

Thea rolled her eyes, "Former Maurader."

Simone scoffed, "Yeah, let's see how long that lasts—"

"Girls," McGonagall admonished, "This is a detention. There is no time to be chattering like a pair of babbling baboons."

"Excuse me," Nesme called out, sidling past McGonagall into the bathroom, "I may be Hufflepuff, but let me just slither-in," she grinned broadly at everyone.

"That…was terrible," Simone said bluntly.

"For once, we can agree on something, Miss Serapeum," McGonagall said before turning to the new arrival, "Dear, you may go work on the flooding over by that corner. I think I see the beginning of mold springing up from the damp."

Nesme saluted her, the hand she snapped to her head firmly clutching an old toothbrush, "Aye-aye, Professor!"

"And I certainly hope that isn't Mister Filch's toothbrush," McGonagall warned sternly, "I won't have a repeat of last time."

"I solemnly swear this is not his toothbrush," Nesme said seriously.

"…is it a classmates?" McGonagall asked.

"…I solemnly swear there this isn't Filch's toothbrush," Nesme repeated.

McGonagall sighed, pulling a hair clip from Nesme's hair. Waving her wand, she transfigured it into a toothbrush.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked tiredly.

Nesme grinned, "Cherish me forever for my bubbly personality?"

McGonagall stared at her and deadpanned, "Clearly, Pomona doesn't keep a good enough eye on you."

"Not to belabor a point," Simone said casually, watching Nesme skip to her assigned corner, "But some of this mildew and mold was here before the fight. This bathroom is wet most of the time; Myrtle's constantly flooding the bathroom out of spite."

"I do not," Myrtle denied, stamping her foot in midair.

"Do too," Simone shot back.

"Do not," Myrtle fumed, "The plumbing's faulty."

Simone rolled her eyes again.

"Right," she drawled, "Regardless, my point is that most of this mess wasn't even caused by us; be it faulty plumbing," she spared Myrtle a skeptical glance, "Or something else. But it wasn't us."

"Well then consider your work here an extra service to the school," McGonagall replied with a slight smirk.

"Service to the school," Simone groused, "Oh yes, what heroes are we."

Thea muffled her laughter with her hand.

"Yeah," Nesme giggled, "What, are they going to give us a special plaque like Tom Riddle?"

"Nesme," Simone hissed warningly. She chanced a peek in McGonagall's direction to find her eying them curiously.

"Riddle?" McGonagall asked, "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Just some supposedly incredible prefect, Ma'am," Simone lied, "Nesme found an award of his in the trophy room. I think he left school before you attended, judging by the date on it."

"Riddle," McGonagall repeated again, tapping a finger to her lips, "Hm…oh, that's right. I remember that award. It was quite an honor to receive I imagine."

"Why did he receive it, Professor?" Simone inquired, feigning ignorance. She was curious to see how much McGonagall knew.

"Well he prevented the school from clos—" McGonagall paused, catching herself, "There was an incident back before I attended Hogwarts. Some students were…injured."

"Injured, Professor?" Simone acted worried, "Was it serious?"

McGonagall nodded, "Quite serious, but nothing the Professors couldn't handle," she looked at the girls, "There is no place safer than Hogwarts, I assure you."

Simone and Thea shared a look.

"Anyway," McGonagall went on, "Mr. Riddle was apparently quite helpful in putting things to right and as such was rewarded for his dedication to the school."

"Wow," Simone whistled, "He sounds like a real outstanding guy."

McGonagall nodded, "Quite so."

The sound of footsteps came down the hall, prompting McGonagall to poke her head outside of the bathroom.

"No running, Miss Weiss," she scolded.

"Professor," Tiffany Weiss, a second year Gryffindor came to stand panting before her Head of House, "Professor Flitwick ask me to find you. Peeves got into Mister Filch's office. He's throwing confiscated dungbombs at people in the library."

McGonagall pursed her lips like she'd swallowed a lemon, "That ill-mannered little fiend. Girls," she looked back at Simone and her friends, "You three will remain here until I return. You are to keep cleaning; this is not an opportunity to slack off. Those floors better be sparkling by the time I get back."

McGonagall strode from the loo, muttering about the peskiness of poltergeist under her breath.

Once McGonagall and Weiss were out of earshot, Simone turned to the others, "We all caught that, right?"

Thea nodded, "Professor McGonagall knows about the Chamber of Secrets. And she obviously believes it was more than mere rumors. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been so cagey about it. If it really were just hearsay caused by a gossiping student, she would have said so. Instead, she steered around the subject entirely."

"And she believes the stories that Riddle saved the day," Simone finished, "Meaning Dumbledore hasn't shared his suspicions with her. She one of his most trusted confidantes; why would Slughorn be let in on the secret and not her?"

Nesme raised her hand, "Ooh, I know! Maybe Dumbledore didn't tell Slughorn. Maybe…maybe he found out something about Riddle on his own."

"Slughorn was teaching back when Riddle was a student here," Simone said contemplatively, "Riddle was in the Slug Club, so Slughorn probably spent a lot of time with him. Nesme, I think you're right…he must have found out something on his own. That's why he knows not to trust Riddle."

"Meanwhile the rest of the staff is relatively knew and Dumbledore continues to feed them the story of Tom's supposed heroism," Thea added.

"What's all this about Tom Riddle?"

The three girls jumped, looking up with a start to find Myrtle floating over them.

"Myrtle," Simone breathed, hand on her chest, "I'd forgotten you were here."

"Of course you would," Myrtle sniffed, "Who would ever remember Moaning Myrtle."

"Hang on," Thea cried out, eager to stop Myrtle's ensuing tears before things got off track, "Myrtle, you knew Tom Riddle?"

Myrtle crossed her arms, "Of course I did. We went to school together."

"How would you say he was as a person?" Simone asked curiously.

Myrtle shrugged, "He was alright I supposed. Smart, well liked…handsome," she let out a little sigh, "The very sort of boy who'd never notice me. Why are you all so interested in him?"

Simone and Thea looked at each other warily.

"Myrtle," Thea began hesitantly, "You do realize Riddle is credited with having supposedly caught your killer…?"

Myrtle blinked, "What?"

"He accused another student of releasing a creature in the school," Simone explained, "He got an award in honor of the school and everything."

"I always figured it was the Headmaster that put a stop to the attacks," Myrtle admitted, "They stopped after I died. Who'd he say did it?"

"Hagrid," Nesme replied.

"Hagrid?" Myrtle frowned, "That tall, friendly boy? That can't be right…granted we didn't really know each other, but he was always nice to me. He wouldn't hurt anyone."

"That's how we see it too," Simone said, "But Riddle was convinced Hagrid was responsible, at least indirectly. Hagrid had a pet spider of …the exotic variety. Riddle claimed it got loose and killed you."

Myrtle's face got deadly serious.

"It wasn't a spider," she said her expression severe, "I'm terrified of those things; I would have noticed all those beady little eyes looking at me. Trust me, if it had been a spider in this bathroom, they would have found my body much sooner, because I would have been screaming with my final breaths."

She floated closer to the girls.

"That thing had two eyes," she whispered ominously, "Great big, yellow ones. They were bigger than my head, I'm sure of it."

"Well rumor has it, Riddle claims he saw the spider leaving the bathroom," Simone lied, unwilling to reveal Riddle himself had said it through his diary.

"Then Riddle was lying," Myrtle insisted, crossing her arms and turning away stubborn, "It was no spider. It had two eyes only, and I died the instant I saw them. Nothing bit me."

"She looked at it and she died?" Nesme questioned quietly, looking at Simone, "Why do I feel like I've heard that somewhere?"

"Shh," Simone raised a finger to her lips, "We'll figure that out later."

"How dare Riddle lie like that," Myrtle glowered, working herself up the more she thought about it, "If he had seen something leave the bathroom, why'd it take hours for them to find me? Why would he lie about what happened? It get some glory off of my death? The nerve! If that smug, arrogant, sweet talking little jerk was here, I'd—wait," Myrtle paused, "That voice…"

"What voice?" Simone asked, cocking a brow.

Myrtle turned back to them, "The voice I heard that night in the bathroom. It was a boys; that's the reason I came out of the stall," she looked Simone in the eye, "I think it was his voice."

"Are you sure Myrtle?" Simone asked gently, "You need to be absolutely sure—"

"I'm positive," Myrtle declared, "I hadn't given it much thought before; the voice was the least of my concerns after I died. I-I was more preoccupied with the eyes I saw. They still terrify me."

Nesme tugged at Simone's sleeve, "You guys, I'm telling you, something about the eye thing sounds familiar."

"Hush," Simone admonished.

Myrtle continued, unnoticing of the interruption, "That voice, if I concentrate hard enough, I'm positive it was his. Sounded like him at least."

"But how can you be sure?" Thea asked.

Myrtle shook her head, lost in thought, "He had a certain way of talking. Smooth…syrupy even. Girls used to say he sounded richer than chocolate, whatever that means. He was always speaking softly, slowly. It's part of what people thought was so suave and charming about him."

"Well," Thea prompted, "what did he say?"

Myrtle waved her off, "I told you before, it was total gibberish. I couldn't make out a word of it."

"Nothing though?" Nesme pressed, "Surely something stood out."

Myrtle shook her head again, "It was all made up sounds. Sounds and stuff. Honestly, it sounded more like hissing than talking in some parts."

"Hissing," Simone said disbelievingly, "Like a snake?"

Myrtle nodded, "Now that you mention it, yes."

Simone chuckled, "So Riddle thought he could talk to snakes. There's hasn't been a Parselmouth in ages. And he's muggle, what are the odds of him having that ability. Ridiculous, eh, Nesme?….Nesme?"

Simone turned questioningly to her friend, only to find the Hufflepuff's face rapidly draining of color, "Nesme?"

"I have to go," Nesme said quietly, "We have to go." She threw down her cleaning supplies, grabbing hold of her friends' arms and frantically tugged them towards the door.

"Nesme, what's gotten into you?" Simone asked in confusion, barely managing to side step the bucket of water Thea had been working with.

The three became wedged in the doorway as Nesme tried to drag them all through, the Hufflepuff dislodging herself and stumbling into the hallway.

"Nesme, just tell us what's wrong?" Thea pleaded in alarm.

Nesme merely shook her head, her face devoid of color.

"Girls," McGonagall cried, surprise and disapproval on her face, "What on earth are you all doing out here?"

"Feelin' sick," Nesme croaked out, "They're taking me to the hospital wing," she latched onto Simone and Thea by the arms again and took off down the hall.

"I hardly think that requires both of them," McGonagall called out after them, but they were already well on their way.

"Nesme, you're starting to freak us out," Simone said, "Just tell us what's wrong."

"I'm wrong," Nesme answered, "At least I really, really hope I am. Please, let me be wrong!"

Simone and Thea exchanged worried glances and allowed themselves to be dragged through the castle.

To their surprise, Nesme dragged them past the kitchens and into the Hufflepuff dorms, sprinting past housemates who raised a curious eye at the pair of Slytherins but otherwise offered little objections.

Once they reached Nesme's dorm room, the girl released her friends and shot straight to her school trunk, throwing open the lid with little fanfare and driving inside, rummaging loudly and frantically through its contents.

"Where is it?" Nesme wondered aloud, a hint of desperation to her voice, "Where'd I put it."

"Nesme, just tell us what is going on!" Simone demanded, hands on her hips, "You're scaring Thea."

Nesme finally found what she was looking for, pulling back from the trunk with an indiscernible look on her face. Turning around, she showed her friends a well-worn copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'.

"It's my favorite book," Nesme explained softly, looking back and forth between her friends, "I like animals. I must have read this book cover to cover so many times now."

"There was something Myrtle said that struck me funny," Nesme went on, her lower lip trembling, "I knew I'd heard it somewhere before."

She flipped the book open, flipping quickly through the pages. Landing on one page in particular, her eyes ran over it rapidly before stilling, a look of sorrowful resignation upon her face.

"I knew it," she whispered, "The killing with a look...the boy hissing…Why Hagrid's pet Aragog was so afraid back then…"

"You talking in circles," Simone scolded, "Tell us what's going on."

"They can live for over 900 hundred years," Nesme's voice quaked, "If this is what killed Myrtle, it's still alive."

"What's still alive?" Simone asked in exasperation.

"You should know, Simone," Nesme said, "You tried to hatch one once."

She turned the book around to her friends.

There, splayed across the yellowing, dogged eared parchment was a frightening image of a massive, scaly serpent.

"A basilisk," Nesme said hoarsely, "It's a basilisk in the chamber…"

Dun dun DUN!

This is another thing I find a little odd wasn't figured out sooner in canon. I get that Basilisks hadn't been spotted in ages, like, anywhere, but still, the roosters turning up dead when roosters are the only thing that can kill it? Thousands of tiny spiders all over the school leaving in noticeable droves everywhere you look? The fact that Salazar was said to be a parselmouth and his very symbol was a fucking snake?!

Seriously, I get that Hermione is supposed to be extraordinarily smart, but some of the things she discovered that were supposed to be due to her cleverness were thing others probably could have uncovered with just a teeny bit more thought. I mean come on people, the creature is listed in one of the very books required for school. You mean to tell me only Hermione could figure that shit out? Hell, several professors should have put two and two together after learning roosters were turning up strangled, spiders were fleeing, etc. I guess Professor Snape was too busy glowering about being snubbed for the DADA position yet again to apply any of his own DADA know-how to figure it out.

I find it odd Myrtle doesn't seem to recall Riddle when she found the diary (or rather, Ginny threw it at her in an effort to get rid of it). She went to school with him and as one of the most popular head boys of his time, reportedly quite handsome, I think a boy crazy girl like Myrtle would probably have known who he was just for being 'dreamy.'

Given Dumbledore's penchant for keeping all his cards hidden until the end of the game, I doubt he told any of his professors the truth about Riddle's supposed heroism when the Chamber was first opened. He most likely would want as few people to know Riddle's true identity as possible, as being the only one in the know gave him an edge on Riddle, made him seem more formidable to Voldemort.

Review everybody!