Title: Three Spirits
Author: SleepsInOctober
Genre: Adventure, maybe some humor
Summary: AU, In a third year without Sirius Black, Harry worries that things are a bit too boring. When the trio upsets a ghost, things get a little too exciting. They've been turned into - ghosts?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.
***
Chapter Two - The Party That Wasn't
"Oh, I feel strange not bringing a gift," fretted Hermoine.
"What would we bring her? A plunger?" Harry replied as they left the library and headed for the second floor bathroom.
"Now, Harry-"
"Padded seats?"
"Ron! Don't-"
"Deluxe mildew curtains?"
"Mop?"
"Bucket?"
Hermoine huffed, "Really, you two are impossible."
***
Myrtle's party was in full swing when the trio entered the girl's bathroom. That is to say, it seemed completely deserted.
"Um, Myrtle?" Harry broke the silence, peering around. The room was curiously clean, with strange luminescent streamers decorating the stalls. The sinks were covered with rotting food, much like they had seen at Nearly Headless Nick's party.
"This is completely - odd," Ron commented. "Do you think we have the right day?"
"Of course we do! There's food here - "
"It looks like the food's been here for ages!"
" - and it is decorated," Hermoine went on, speaking louder over Ron.
"Maybe we have the wrong time?" Harry asked.
A sudden voice surprised them all.
"Oh! You came! You're the first ones here!" Myrtle had come barreling through the back wall and stopped before them. She had evidently dressed for the occasion with a huge ghostly bow in her hair and her robes were neatly pressed. She was also speaking very fast.
"You're the first here, but I'm sure the others are on their way. Just wait here." Before anyone living could manage to get a word in, she had shot away through the closed door.
"Well, hello, Myrtle," Ron said crossly, looking over at the door. "I've never seen her so worked up. Unless she was yelling at me."
Hermoine closed her mouth, which had fallen open at some point during Myrtle's appearance. "I've certainly never seen her so, well, alive."
"Maybe she's just happy seeing Harry again." Ron smirked at Harry.
Harry tried to ignore his growing blush. "Oh, shut up." That just made Ron burst into laughter. "It was embarrassing. Ghosts shouldn't be allowed in the Quidditch showers!"
Ron was still laughing, and even Hermoine seemed to be suppressing a smile. With a great deal of effort.
"Thanks. Some friends I've got, encouraging ghosts to become voyeur."
"I'm just remembering how we could hear your girly scream all the way in Gryffindor Tower."
"I did not scream! And even if I did, it wouldn't be a girly scream," Harry protested."
"Yes, you did."
"I did not."
"You did."
"I didn't!"
Hermoine was getting ready to break up the witty repartee when Myrtle suddenly appeared before them again, getting yells from all three of them. At least one scream was girly.
"A few of the ghosts are running late," Myrtle quickly said, running her hands over her robes in an effort to smooth them down. "But they'll be here soon. And then we can really start the party. Are you having fun? Have some food. I'll be right back." She smoothed down her robes once more and floated away through the wall.
"Are we sure that's Myrtle? Can you Polyjuice into a ghost?" Ron looked mystified.
"I think she's just nervous. Who did she say was coming, Harry?"
"I don't remember, Hermoine! I was a bit distracted trying to get a towel! But I know we're the only one's from the living."
"How do you know that?" Ron asked, looking up from his perusal of the decaying food.
"You didn't hear anyone else yelling from the showers, did you?"
"Ah. Good point." Ron gave some old cake a poke with his wand. It crumpled. "A waste of good frosting, that."
Hermoine examined the floor for a moment before sitting down under a window. "Seriously, though, I don't think Myrtle's really on friendly terms with many of the students."
"Or the staff," Harry agreed, flopping down next to her. "I can't imagine Filch is that pleased with her."
"Who do you supposed cleaned this place, then?"
"House elves maybe? Should we start up spew again?" Ron asked, now poking at some green finger sandwiches.
"It's NOT spew! It's the Society for the - oh, forget it. And would you leave the food alone? You'll make yourself ill," Hermoine scolded.
This time when Myrtle appeared she was muttering to herself and fiddling with the ribbons of her bow, which was partially undone. " - must be somewhere. I mean, there's always some ghosts about. The Friar at least is always in Hufflepuff at this time of night!"
She had floated to a stop in front of Harry and Hermoine. "Good! You're having fun! Right? Right. Right." She put on bright smile that looked somewhat maniacal. "Right?"
Harry and Hermoine exchanged a glance.
"Right," they answered together, albeit a bit weakly.
"Right. I'll be right back. I know where they are, they can't hide from me..."
They watched her float away through the door again, still muttering. Ron finally spoke, "Right. What were we talking about?"
"I have no idea."
Author: SleepsInOctober
Genre: Adventure, maybe some humor
Summary: AU, In a third year without Sirius Black, Harry worries that things are a bit too boring. When the trio upsets a ghost, things get a little too exciting. They've been turned into - ghosts?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.
***
Chapter Two - The Party That Wasn't
"Oh, I feel strange not bringing a gift," fretted Hermoine.
"What would we bring her? A plunger?" Harry replied as they left the library and headed for the second floor bathroom.
"Now, Harry-"
"Padded seats?"
"Ron! Don't-"
"Deluxe mildew curtains?"
"Mop?"
"Bucket?"
Hermoine huffed, "Really, you two are impossible."
***
Myrtle's party was in full swing when the trio entered the girl's bathroom. That is to say, it seemed completely deserted.
"Um, Myrtle?" Harry broke the silence, peering around. The room was curiously clean, with strange luminescent streamers decorating the stalls. The sinks were covered with rotting food, much like they had seen at Nearly Headless Nick's party.
"This is completely - odd," Ron commented. "Do you think we have the right day?"
"Of course we do! There's food here - "
"It looks like the food's been here for ages!"
" - and it is decorated," Hermoine went on, speaking louder over Ron.
"Maybe we have the wrong time?" Harry asked.
A sudden voice surprised them all.
"Oh! You came! You're the first ones here!" Myrtle had come barreling through the back wall and stopped before them. She had evidently dressed for the occasion with a huge ghostly bow in her hair and her robes were neatly pressed. She was also speaking very fast.
"You're the first here, but I'm sure the others are on their way. Just wait here." Before anyone living could manage to get a word in, she had shot away through the closed door.
"Well, hello, Myrtle," Ron said crossly, looking over at the door. "I've never seen her so worked up. Unless she was yelling at me."
Hermoine closed her mouth, which had fallen open at some point during Myrtle's appearance. "I've certainly never seen her so, well, alive."
"Maybe she's just happy seeing Harry again." Ron smirked at Harry.
Harry tried to ignore his growing blush. "Oh, shut up." That just made Ron burst into laughter. "It was embarrassing. Ghosts shouldn't be allowed in the Quidditch showers!"
Ron was still laughing, and even Hermoine seemed to be suppressing a smile. With a great deal of effort.
"Thanks. Some friends I've got, encouraging ghosts to become voyeur."
"I'm just remembering how we could hear your girly scream all the way in Gryffindor Tower."
"I did not scream! And even if I did, it wouldn't be a girly scream," Harry protested."
"Yes, you did."
"I did not."
"You did."
"I didn't!"
Hermoine was getting ready to break up the witty repartee when Myrtle suddenly appeared before them again, getting yells from all three of them. At least one scream was girly.
"A few of the ghosts are running late," Myrtle quickly said, running her hands over her robes in an effort to smooth them down. "But they'll be here soon. And then we can really start the party. Are you having fun? Have some food. I'll be right back." She smoothed down her robes once more and floated away through the wall.
"Are we sure that's Myrtle? Can you Polyjuice into a ghost?" Ron looked mystified.
"I think she's just nervous. Who did she say was coming, Harry?"
"I don't remember, Hermoine! I was a bit distracted trying to get a towel! But I know we're the only one's from the living."
"How do you know that?" Ron asked, looking up from his perusal of the decaying food.
"You didn't hear anyone else yelling from the showers, did you?"
"Ah. Good point." Ron gave some old cake a poke with his wand. It crumpled. "A waste of good frosting, that."
Hermoine examined the floor for a moment before sitting down under a window. "Seriously, though, I don't think Myrtle's really on friendly terms with many of the students."
"Or the staff," Harry agreed, flopping down next to her. "I can't imagine Filch is that pleased with her."
"Who do you supposed cleaned this place, then?"
"House elves maybe? Should we start up spew again?" Ron asked, now poking at some green finger sandwiches.
"It's NOT spew! It's the Society for the - oh, forget it. And would you leave the food alone? You'll make yourself ill," Hermoine scolded.
This time when Myrtle appeared she was muttering to herself and fiddling with the ribbons of her bow, which was partially undone. " - must be somewhere. I mean, there's always some ghosts about. The Friar at least is always in Hufflepuff at this time of night!"
She had floated to a stop in front of Harry and Hermoine. "Good! You're having fun! Right? Right. Right." She put on bright smile that looked somewhat maniacal. "Right?"
Harry and Hermoine exchanged a glance.
"Right," they answered together, albeit a bit weakly.
"Right. I'll be right back. I know where they are, they can't hide from me..."
They watched her float away through the door again, still muttering. Ron finally spoke, "Right. What were we talking about?"
"I have no idea."