The rest of the week provided challenges that weren't really directed at him, but were no less formitable. Particularly, the way his house, even Professor Snape ( or perhaps especially him ) held everyone who wasn't part of Slytherin in complete contempt. Eric really felt terrible every time someone's day was made worse by a Slytherin. As it was, he tended to spend his days following five steps behind his classmates to help the unfortunates they knocked about, only to receive the wrath of the victims. After all, wasn't he a Slytherin, too?

The bright spot was flying class. Even though he had to be careful not to show off, it would be a chance to finally get off the ground out in the open, without having to sneak about it. Besides that, Madame Hooch was a fair minded teacher. Maybe he could work a deal to become a tutor, rather than another student. All he needed was to demonstrate his abilities and a willingness to teach everybody fairly. The points that would earn Slytherin house should be enough to keep the other students from teasing him about it.

Of course, if life was that simple, school would have proven easy. First there was Longbottom's accident. Eric felt terrible about it – Neville seemed like such a nice sort, yet calamity seemed to follow him more loyally than a loving puppy. If that wasn't bad enough, Malfoy had to start his usual garbage; stealing to create misery and baiting others. This time his aim was at the Gryffindors, in particular Harry Potter. Worst of all, Harry accepted.

It wasn't that Eric thought ill of Harry, it was just that he wanted the chance to fix Malfoy himself. He had the skills on the broom, and in a way it was his responsibility: Malfoy was a Slytherin, and therefore it was a Slytherin's duty to restrain him. Instead, there went Harry, who had never been on a broom in his life, to challenge a bully who had probably been riding since he could walk.

Eric would have thought more on it if the scene before him played out like it should have. Instead, Harry flew like he'd been born to it. His movements and control were natural and smooth. Harry stayed in control and before anyone could think further, he was landing again to the cheers of every house but the Slytherins, having bested Malfoy and saved Neville from what would've been a nasty chewing out from his grandmother – from all accounts a fair but severe woman to be sure.

All of this left Eric very much alone. He couldn't congradulate Harry without getting more ire from the other Slytherins, and when Harry was hauled off by McGonagall, he couldn't feel bad for him, either. Eric began to feel like the lonliest soul for a hundred miles. Even when he heard that McGonagall had taken Harry to make him the Gryffindor Seeker, he felt no better. What was the point of wanting to congradulate someone when there was no way you could?

By the end of the day, Eric was miserable. His house was cheerfully berating him, trying to make him something he wasn't. Everyone else avoided him, thinking that he must be just another Slytherin rat. Hagrid was all wrapped up in making Harry Potter feel at home, and his room was boarded up. He needed to escape it all – just for a while. He needed a quiet place to hide and a friend to talk to. It was a pity that the best person he could think of was dead.

Waiting until everyone was off on their own doings, Eric snuck through the back halls by the Dark Arts classrooms and down the corridor until he found his destination: the girl's bathroom. Normally, this would probably have been the absolute limit, but not here. Entering as quietly as he could, he found a quiet corner to sit and wait.

He didn't have to wait long, though – Myrtle wasn't partial to intruders. "Who's there?" Her sharp, snapping words echoed through the empty lavatory.

"It's only me, Myrtle. I haven't had a chance to talk for a while, so I thought I'd stop by."

Myrtle's expression softened a bit when she saw him. "Eric, you came back! Peeves was teasing me the other day, saying that you joined those nasty Slytherins and now were showing them all the ways around the castle; plotting such mean things!"

Eric sighed. "Peeves was half-right. I did end up in Slytherin house, but there's not any plotting going on. Not unless you count their plotting to tear up my bedsheets, or turn my pillow stuffing into poison ivy, or other such brilliant uses of the time between classes."

Myrtle clucked with sympathy, and the two of them sat together for a while, consoling each other over the general unfairness of things. She had been Eric's best friend and confidant for as long as he could remember. She was the only one in the school who would talk to him, and the only person who had time for him and who didn't leave. By the time any of the other students got to know him, they were usually graduating – with the exceptions of the Weasleys. Eric tended not to get overly friendly with them, though. They kept looking for new secret tunnels, and Eric very much wanted to keep his own secrets.

All in all, Eric spent about an hour with Myrtle. She loved his company – he never teased her, and he always tried to say something nice to cheer her up. She was kind a big sister to him; the good kind who tried to look out for him and didn't borrow his stuff. However, he finally had to leave, so with a promise that the hall was clear, a wink and Myrtle's best wishes he was back in the hall with nowhere to go but out. Out into a world that had no place for him until he found a corner to carve out for himself.