'I'm late, I'm late, I'm late' Hermione kept repeating to herself. She was heading to the great hall for lunch. She was late as she met up with Harry on his Quidditch practice to wish him good luck. Ron was staying to watch, and he had already had his lunch with Dean and Seamus. Feeling left out, Hermione pushed open the doors to the great hall.
As usual, all three house tables were packed, with the exception of the Gryfindor table. With the Quidditch team gone, there were about a dozen more extra seats. Hermione could see Lavender and Parvati waving her over to them. She grinned, and began to walk down the row of Hufflepuff tables, until someone had steeped rudely into her path.
To Hermione's horror, it was Malfoy, and his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy was wearing a most unusual sneer, and it seemed to be reaching up to his eyes.
"Oh, leave her be, Malfoy!" shouted Dean from the Gryfindor table, but he paid no attention to him.
"Now that mudbloods here, I think she wouldn't mind a few insults," said Malfoy coldly. Hermione looked around nervously. Every student in the hall was watching.
"So, Granger," started Malfoy, "What happened to your…er…hair? It's looks more flee bitten than normal."
Crabbe and Goyle snickered stupidly. Out of the corner of Hermione's eye, she could see Seamus picking up his fork, as if fighting the urge to throw it at Malfoy headlong. Hermione was fighting back tears.
"So, what did you do?" asked Malfoy, his eyes reduced to slits, "Cut it blind-folded, or set it on fire trying to tame it?"
Hermione now felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Malfoy laughed loudly, throwing back his head.
"I bet you did both, you know"
That did it. Hermione suddenly burst into tears, and buried her face in her hands. Crabbe and Goyle were laughing hysterically now, and pointed after her when she had hurried back out the great hall. The last thing she heard was the Gryfindors screaming themselves hoarse at Malfoy, until there was a loud, sickening crack followed by a horrified scream. As much as Hermione would have liked to turn around and see what had happened, she ignored the feeling, and ran as fast as she could, not noticing where she was heading.
She had stumbled a few times, as her vision was clouded with tears. Then, to her surprise, she had ran into a pool of water. Hermione uncovered her eyes, and looked around. She was in the corridor with Moaning Myrtle's flooding bathroom, which is exactly what it was doing. There was water flooding the corridor from the crack beneath the opening. Hermione hesitated, and felt she couldn't turn back around. Making up her mind, she ran for the door, and fumbled for the doorknob.
The out-of-bounds bathroom in the third corridor was just like she had remembered it in her first year. The bathroom sinks were still hanging off the walls, and the walls were covered in scum. Ignoring the surroundings, Hermione miserably sat on an up-turned sink, and pulled her legs up so she wouldn't skim the water. But it hardly mattered. She was soaked head to foot.
"So, Hermione," said a voice from below her.
Hermione looked down, and saw Moaning Myrtle coming out of the tap on the sink she was sitting on. This isn't any good, thought Hermione.
"Hello, Myrtle," she mumbled, whipping her eyes on her sleeve. Myrtle looked positively thrilled to see her like this.
"Did you grow another tail?" she asked her, eyes enormous behind the ghostly spectacles. Hermione could have turned around, and swatted at her, but her fist would have passes right through her.
"No, I did not," she replied, "And I don't think it's smart to ask me."
"Oh, no, I already saw what had happened with you and that Slytherin," said Myrtle, picking a spot on her chin, "Flee bitten hair? My, how harsh!"
"Yes, well I am not flee bitten," shouted Hermione. Myrtle snickered. Hermione had never seen her look so happy. Just because I'm crying, thought Hermione.
"Really? Well, you could have fooled me," Myrtle said, and caught a murderous glare from her, "I'm joking."
"Please don't," sighed Hermione. Myrtle starred at her, while swimming through the water she had spilled.
"Where's Harry?" she asked suddenly. Hermione looked up.
"He's in Quidditch practice," she answered, "Why?"
"No reason," Myrtle said glumly. She looked as though she was fighting the urge to say something.
"The last time I've seen him was when he had that Triwizard tournament," she said, frowning.
"Yes, well he doesn't talk about last year much," said Hermione miserably, "I think it hurts him to remember it all. I've never asked him about it, of course…" Hermione raised her eyebrows, "Wait- I never knew Harry visited you last year. He would have brought me along."
Myrtle smiled at her.
"Oh, I know," she said, "He didn't actually want to visit me… I just happened to be in the prefects bathroom at the time."
Hermione nodded, but stopped quickly.
"H-Harry was in the prefects bathroom?" she asked, amazed. Myrtle smiled even wider.
"Yes," she replied, "For help on the clue in the golden egg. Cedric told him to come to the prefect's bathroom because Harry told him about the dragons, I think. Told him to have a bath."
"H-He what?" cried Hermione, "I thought he would have helped Cedric on the first task. He wouldn't tell me!" she froze, "But why on earth did Cedric tell him to have a bath?"
Myrtle giggled furiously, making Hermione cringe.
"The water made the clue more clear, I think," said Myrtle, "I told Harry to open the egg under water. And I guess he could hear the clue. Didn't take him to long. Shorter than Cedric, anyways."
Hermione's mouth was hanging open in shock.
"And you helped Harry with the clue," she managed to say. Myrtle frowned.
"Oh, no, I didn't tell him what it was, or anything," she gasped, "He found that all on his own."
"And he was in the bath," said Hermione. Myrtle nodded slowly, her grin coming back.
"Well yes," she muttered, hiding her face behind her hand.
"I bet Harry was furious to see you," Hermione said. Myrtle snickered.
"I told him I covered my eyes when he got in, and I did," she said, "The thing is… I can she right through my hands!"
Hermione starred at her, eyes blazing and mouth hanging open.
"Myrtle!" she said loudly, "You're not supposed to she Harry without any clothes on!"
"I couldn't help it," Myrtle said, "I did cover my eyes."
Hermione starred at her for a long moment, hardly believing what she had to take in. This was not good. Well, that was the understatement of the century- this was the worst thing that could ever happen. She tried to remain self-possessed.
"Myrtle, how old are you?"
"I'll be sixty-one in a few months."
Hermione gulped. Was there any way to reason with her?
"Well, you look like you're not even ten," she said in a strained voice, "And it's not… proper to see boys… without any clothes on… until you get… older. Much older. In your twenties, maybe."
This was a horrible situation, Hermione having to talk about her best friend like this. Oh, I hope Harry doesn't hear about this, she thought.
"But, it wasn't my fault," said Myrtle, her cheeks blushing a blinding silver, "I only saw him for a few seconds."
Hermione burst. She stood up, her face contorting to fury.
"Don't you get it?" she said loudly, "Would you like it if someone was spying on you while you were having a bath?"
"Well, no-"
"Well, then, I've proved my point. You should apologize to Harry when you get a chance. That was a wicked thing to do to him, you know. Spying on him… without any clothes on!"
Myrtle exchanged her frown with a smile, and she floated up off the sink she was sitting on.
"Then I think this would be a time to do it then, don't you think?" she said happily. Hermione didn't know what she meant until she heard a noise. Someone was knocking on the door, and a voice was heard that sounded oddly familiar- "Hermione, get out of there! Malfoys gone."
It was Harry. Myrtle went into a fit of giggles, and glided to the door. Hermione jumped to her feet.
"No! Apologise on your own time! Harry'll know I've been talking to you and expect me to wheedle it out of you!" she whispered loudly, running to the door before Myrtle could reach it, "He wants to talk to me!"
She wrenched open the door, jumped out, and slammed it shut again.
"Something wrong?"
She turned to see Harry standing there in his scarlet Quidditch robes and his Firebolt tucked under his right arm. Hermione didn't waist any time in trying to see if Myrtle had followed; she grabbed Harry's arm, and ran, dragging him behind him, down the corridor. They only slowed down once they reached the entrance hall.
"Herm- what is wrong with you?" panted Harry, "I thought you hated Myrtle."
Hermione turned to him, a trace of alarm flashing across her eyes.
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, for one, your conversation," said Harry, standing straight again, a mysterious look in his green eyes, "And you telling off Myrtle."
Hermione shrugged, trying to force the blood rushing to her cheeks down. He smiled lopsidedly.
"How much did you hear?" said Hermione, glancing around the entrance hall to make sure no one was listening. They were alone.
"Not much. Why?" Harry answered casually. Hermione felt a rush of relief flow through her.
"No reason," she said hurriedly. Harry grinned at her, bending low so her could speak in her ear.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm sure Myrtle'll apologise now, with my clothes on or not. I'd rather have them off, wouldn't you agree?"
Hermione, if possible turned a much darker shad of red. Curse this life of mine, she thought furiously.
"eh… er… um," she mumbled. Then, without thinking, she spun around, and ran, at top speed, up the staircase to her dorm. Harry, who was watching Hermione trip over the stairs to get as far away from him as possible, grinned wickedly. He looked down at his arm, feeling a warm sensation, only to see his arm slowly turn from scarlet Quidditch robes to those of black work robes.
"Polyjuice potion wearing off. Oh well. It was worth scaring her… and that juicy bit of information could come in useful. Now… where's Harry?"
With that, the redheaded boy named Ron strolled down the corridor in search of Harry thinking, 'Hermione and Harry, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…'
…~'*'~…
A/N: Oh, no, Ron… not again.
