Disclaimer: They're not mine, they belong to J.K. Rowling. This disclaimer is short, because I have to go to Psychology!

Summary: Myrtle makes a friend, and Ron makes a discovery.

Chapter Two – The Making of Friends

Moaning Myrtle was sat on top of a cubicle, grinning with delight. This was the first time in a long while that anyone had come to visit her – and this was such a special visitor. A child with blue skin was sat in one of the sinks, staring at herself in the mirror. The thing that made this child special (apart from the obvious skin difference) was that she had a pair of fluttery butterfly wings.

The strange girl had not yet noticed Myrtle. It was sometimes very convenient to be practically invisible from everyone.

"You're not invisible, you know," Myrtle had a start as she found the child's reflection looking directly at her. "Why do you think you are?"

Myrtle floated slowly down from her place on top of the cubicle. "Because no one ever wants to notice me," she replied. "No one cares about moping, moaning Myrtle. They all find it perfectly simple to forget about me."

"Is that the way you like it?" The child asked.

"Of course not. Don't be stupid!"

"Then why do you just let them ignore you?"

Myrtle sniffed, and looked away from the mirror. "There's nothing I could do to stop them. Let them be beastly if they want."

The child turned slowly, fixing Myrtle with deep sapphire eyes. "What do you want?"

Myrtle was fixed by the eyes, and found herself compelled to answer, "I-I just…I wish-"

"Myrtle!"

Myrtle started as she heard her name called from outside. She turned towards the door. "That's the headmaster," she said. "You'd better-" but when she turned back to the mirror, the child was gone. "Curiouser and curiouser."

The door opened with a loud creak. Myrtle took up the child's place in the sink, and sat with her legs crossed. Professor Dumbledore stepped into the room, today wearing a deep indigo robe. He smiled amiably. "Myrtle. So good to see you again."

"I haven't been visited by you for a long time, Professor."

"No, Myrtle, you haven't. But today's, I am afraid, is not a social visit. I require your assistance in something that has been misplaced."

"Not another diary, Professor?"

"No, Myrtle. More of an animal. A small water fairy, all blue with butterfly wings. Has she visited your bathroom yet?" Professor Dumbledore looked down at Myrtle over his half-moon spectacles.

Myrtle looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head firmly. "No, Professor. No one comes to visit me."

"Are you sure, Myrtle?"

"Positive." Myrtle looked straight into Dumbledore's eyes. She had heard that was a way to seem very honest.

"Well, if you do, would you kindly alert one of the faculty?" Professor Dumbledore smiled benignly.

"Yes, Headmaster."

"Good girl. I shall come and visit you again when all this is over."

Myrtle nodded, but remained silent. She wanted the man to go away so she could talk to her new friend again. The headmaster nodded, and turned to leave.

He paused at the door. "Just one more thing, Myrtle. She may try and talk to you. Ask you questions, that sort of thing. On no account should you wish for anything. Is that clear?"

Myrtle caught a glimpse of the child out of the corner of her eye. She was hiding in one of the cubicles. She was making funny faces, and Myrtle gave her a small smile. "Yes, headmaster."

Myrtle didn't watch the old Professor leave. She had already floated over to her new friend.

***

Ron and Hermione sat awkwardly in the head girl's room drinking glasses of pumpkin juice. Hermione sat cross-legged on the bed, while Ron was perched on the desk chair by the window. "So…" Said Ron.

"So," said Hermione. "I suppose we have to start somewhere. Anything to declare?"

Ron shrugged. "Nothing you don't already know. I'm going out with Lavendar, although we had a fight last night and I don't know what's going on with that, and I'm beater for the Quidditch team."

Hermione looked worried. "I won't have to fly, will I?"

"Not until Saturday. We had a practice yesterday. It's really not the hard, y'know."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "That's what you think. Anything else?"

"Don't think so. 'Cept that I'm taking Higher Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Astronomy, but I think you already knew that," Hermione nodded. "What about you? Any deep dark secrets you've been keeping?"

Hermione spluttered and started choking on her pumpkin juice. "Deep dark secrets? No, no. Nothing like that. Just…some meetings sometimes with the headmaster – prefect duties, that kind of thing. And I'm taking Higher Potions, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"And that's it?"

Hermione stared down into her pumpkin juice. "Of course that's it. What more would there be?"

"I just wondered. Y'know, you've been wandering off more and more lately. Me and Harry kind of thought that maybe you'd got a boyfriend or something."

Hermione gave a small false laugh and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, is that all you two ever think about? I just have Potions experiments to check – things like that."

Ron made a face. "I suppose I'll have to start going to Potions lessons again."

"Don't worry. He's a lot less…confrontational when he knows that you're there because you want to be, and not because the course is compulsory." Hermione had long since grown used to Snape's sharp wit and off-hand comments.

"But I don't want to be there. He's going to pick up on that straight away." Ron groaned and made a face.

"Well, you'll just have to make do. I like Potions, and I'm not giving it up just because you have a grudge against my Professor," Hermione gave a wry smiles. "Besides, you never know. You might enjoy it."

Ron gave a derisive snort. "That's never going to happen."

"Well, I had better leave you to get acquainted with my room," she made a face. "And I'd better get used to sleeping with a load of boys with little knowledge in personal hygiene."

Ron nodded. "See you later, 'Mione."

The tall boy walked out of the room, with a slightly effeminate swing to his hips. Ron smiled, then realised what he was smiling at and thought it wasn't funny at all. That would be something he would have to talk to her about later.

Ron kicked off his shoes and crossed the room. He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, listening to the birds outside his window. He let his eyes slowly drift shut and contemplated his predicament. He was in a situation where he was in the dog house with his girlfriend, but couldn't sort it out, because he was trapped in the body of one of his best friends – who just happened to be a girl. Furthermore, he had to put up with lessons with Snape and Draco Malfoy, and could no longer play Quidditch. He sighed heavily. It's all your own fault, a voice inside told him. He told the voice to shut up, very firmly.

Ron was startled as a thick sheaf of paper was droped on his face. He opened his eyes and sat up, wondering if Hermione had come back. But there was no one there.

The piece of paper turned out to be an envelope. He frowned, and turned towards the window, where he saw a dark coloured owl flying off into the distance. He frowned, trying to remember where he had seen that owl before.

Ron looked at the envelope. On its front, in spidery, slanted writing, 'Hermione Granger' was written. Ron held it in his hands for some moments, wondering if he should open it or not. It was addressed to Hermione, and was hand written so it was probably personal. On the other hand, he was no Hermione and anything it said now applied to him.

In the end, curiosity won over, and he opened the envelope. Inside was a brief note, written in the same hand-writing:

H,

Am sorry for last night. Will be in the usual room tonight working on my 'potions project'. Would be honoured if you would meet me. See you tonight?

D.

"I knew it!" Ron cried, delighted that he and Harry had been right. Then he paused. A familiar dark owl, potions projects, a letter signed 'D'. He crumpled the paper in his hand as enlightenment struck. "Oh, no. Anything but that!"

***

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