Harry was in good spirits the rest of the day; Draco couldn't spoil his spirits with a "Not dead yet, Potter? That's a shame!"in the hallway, neither could the sight of Fred making out with Pansy Parkinson in the Muggle Studies section of the library. Harry merely smiled, and wondered what Hermione would think if she could see the pair (miles away she said "Someone's done something wrong in the library, I can feel it").

Ron didn't notice, however, because he was preoccupied with being lost somewhere in Holland.

Harry started to notice something was wrong around lunchtime, however, because the Hufflepuffs were all huddled into groups and looking very serious.

"Is something going on?" Harry asked Lavender, who had taken to following him around ever since Seamus left.

"I don't know," said Lavender, reading a letter from Seamus as she wept.

"—A skirt?"

"—Right, he was her Barbie doll!"

"NO WAY!"

"—Yeah, she's been keeping it—"

Harry's stomach did a turn, and he thought he had some idea what they were talking about.

"—Totally used him," said one girl, looking gleeful and mean.

"Are they talking about who I think they're talking about?" asked Lavender, wiping messy mascara off of her face and tucking the letter in the pocket of her robes.

"I think they are," said Harry.

Just at that moment, Draco walked by with his arm over the Slytherin girl who was always invading the Gryffindor Common Room, Alex.

"ONE MORE WORD ABOUT IT AND I'LL HEX YOU!" Draco shouted at a couple of terrified Hufflepuff first years. "Honestly, I didn't even know kids that age knew what lesbianism was."

"You would—I mean, you couldn't tell, could you?"

"Nobody could," said Harry in passing. "Only Ginny did."

"Because she hit on her," said Lavender, defending Draco in an uncharacteristic way.

"What's she going to say now that everyone knows she's a lesbian?" asked Harry, watching the vicious crowd of Hufflepuffs as they gossiped. "She seemed so quiet about it."

"Who told?" wondered Lavender, as Luna suddenly appeared looking sheepish.

"It was my fault," said Luna, looking guilty.

"What?" asked Harry, confused. They lowered their voices and went into the Great Hall for a bite to eat.

"I accidentally told Severus last night," she said, and Harry cringed again. "Honestly Harry, get used to it. Anyway—I was in his office last night—" Harry shivered at the thought of Luna being in Snape's office, alone "—and I accidentally let it slip. Well, you know how those Death Eaters are; they're like old frat buddies. He wrote a letter to Lucius, and Lucius wrote to Draco to see if this was true, but Justin Finch-Fletchley's in the Hogwarts-Azkaban Outreach Association too, and he got the owl on accident—and well, it just all came out this morning. Well...Icicle did, I mean. Everyone knows now."

"How terrible," said Lavender, looking teary-eyed (but probably for a different reason).

"I know," said Luna. "I feel so terrible. I mean, if it hadn't been for me—"

"Well she couldn't keep it a secret forever, Luna," said Harry. "It was bound to come out sooner or later."

"She probably wanted to tell people on her own time, not have some spiteful little prat do it for her," said Luna, feeling glum.

"You know, Luna," said Lavender. "When you think about it, it's not really your fault. I mean—Snape shouldn't have told Lucius, and Lucius should have kept it to himself, and those bloody owls are supposed to be smart enough to realize the difference between a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin."

"That's true," added Harry, eating some cereal.

"Why are you eating cereal, Harry?"

It was Ginny, and she was looking particularly annoyed.

"Nothing," he said, not really hearing her. He was reliving the morning in his mind.

"Nothing? Harry, where is your mind?" asked Ginny, looking amused.

"Hippogriffs," said Harry randomly.

"Wonderful," she said, disregarding him playfully. "Anyway, what's going on?"

"I don't know, Ginny," said Luna. "What is going on?"

"Wait—what?" asked Lavender, confused.

"Did you guys hear about Icicle?" asked Ginny, sitting glumly. "It's all over the hallways."

"I know," said Harry. "We just walked by a bunch of Hufflepuffs who were having a great time with it."

"Ugh, everyone's being so childish," she spat, disgusted.

"Hello Harry."

The entire table screamed.

"GOD! MYRTLE! WHAT?" said Harry, still completely freaked out. "What do you want?"

"I think there's something you should take a look at," she said, sighing. "Not that anyone cares. I mean—no one ever does."

"Myrtle, can you tell me what this is about?" he asked, exasperated.

"I'd have to show you," she said in a sing-song voice. "It's horrible. You'll hate it."

"What is it?"

"Ohhhh," she moaned, and she drifted toward her bathroom.

"Oh for Gandalf's sake," said Harry. "I hope this isn't going where it normally goes."

"See you later," said Luna, still looking glum.

"Myrtle, slow down!"

"I don't know why you're complaining," said Myrtle, floating over some short second-years. "You're the one with legs, after all."

"You have legs," he said, pushing his way through the students as he tried to make his way upstairs.

"Well I can't really use them, can I?" she asked, looking annoyed.

"Myrtle's out of the bathroom?" asked one girl, giving Harry a suspicious look.

"Myrtle, SLOW DOWN!"

"GO FASTER," she said, glaring at him. "This is important. I wasn't in the room when it happened, I was visiting the Fat Friar about my cousin."

"What?"

"And then I got back and I was surprised, but you're the only one I know who would care...who knows where McGonagall is these days, and I don't like that other character with the blonde girlfriend."

"Snape?"

"Sure," she said. "Whatever. They're all the same anyway, those Death Eaters."

"I'll say," he said, coming around the corner where her bathroom was located. She was still up next to the ceiling.

"In here," she said, and she went right through the wall. A second year Ravenclaw gave him an amused look as she watched him go into the girl's bathroom.

"HOLY MOTHER OF ELROND!" he screamed, spotting Myrtle's find. "ICICLE!"

Icicle was laying on the floor, pale and cold as ice. Harry ran over to her side, but it was obvious that he was too late. She was dead.

Myrtle was making a racket with painful sobbing.

"MYRTLE! STOP CRYING! STOP IT!"

He bust through the stall where all the noise was coming from and immediately flew backwards and screamed.

"ARGHHHHHH!"

"Stop it!" said the girl through tears. "You're making me more upset!"

"Icicle," said Harry, flabbergasted. "You! You're—DEAD!"

"OBVIOUSLY," she said. "Seeing as I'm suddenly TRANSPARENT!"

"Why? Why are you—? You're a ghost," he said, still stunned. "How did you—?"

"You didn't look very closely, did you?" asked the girl, pointing at her dead body.

Harry rushed over to her body, and noticed some small wounds on her wrists.

"But these are too small, there's not any blood..."

"GOD NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME JUST GO AWAY!" She screamed, and Harry hurriedly rushed through the door.

"MCGONAGALL!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL! WHERE IS PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL?"

Harry shouted all the way down the hallways with no avail, until, finally, six hours later (it seemed) he finally came across the greying witch with a tired Professor Lupin and a grumpy Severus Snape in the front hall.

"Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of th—?"

"Please, Professor," Harry gasped. "You must come see—! In the bathroom—! Killed herself! Nothing I could do! She was already dead!"

"What? Who killed herself?"

"Icicle, from Hufflepuff," said Harry. "Myrtle found her, already gone—cut her wrists!"

"Oh God," said McGonagall, turning to a shocked Lupin and a green-faced Snape. "Show me," she said, and Harry immediately turned on his heel and ran in the other direction.

"Dirty little snitch," said Icicle, sliding through the wall briefly.

"How long did you expect it to stay secret?" asked Harry, and for some unknown reason Icicle burst into a fresh set of tears. McGonagall eyed the girl warily, and went into the bathroom.

"Oh dear," said McGonagall, still eyeing Icicle, who was crying. "Severus, look at this."

The professor held up a potions knife and Snape sniffed it.

"Ah," was all he said.

"I don't get it," said Harry. "They don't look deep enough to kill her."

"They're not," said Lupin, who was also eyeing the knife.

"Icicle, did you, by any chance, forget to wash your potions knife correctly?" asked the greasy-haired man.

If a ghost could turn purple, this is what Icicle would have been doing.

"Perhaps," she squeaked.

"As I thought. There's Batsminch on this knife, Headmaster," said Snape, handing her the knife.

"Ah," said McGonagall. Icicle looked sheepish, as if she'd done something she didn't mean to do.

Harry stayed quiet and didn't ask what "Batsminch" was, because he had a feeling he was supposed to know.

"Batsminch, as well as being very potent and valuable in the making of potions for a number of uses is also very poisonous when used raw or undiluted with Judugas Juice. Did you have potions today, Icicle?"

"Yes," she squeaked.

"You poisoned yourself?" asked Harry, confused.

"BE QUIET!" she said, and disappeared through the floor.

"Well, I suppose we're going to need to alert her parents," said McGonagall with a sigh. "I hate it when they chose to stay behind, you can never get rid of the well-wishers and relatives."

"My parents never come to see me," said Myrtle with a sniff.

They ignored her.

Harry left the bathroom and was flooded with questions as soon as he had reached the Gryffindor Common Room. Many people had seen him running through the corridors in a fervor, and some one from the Quidditch team heard a rumor about a body.

"Is someone dead, Harry? What happened?" everyone was shouting.

"It's—it's Icicle," he said, and everyone's faces went blank. "She poisoned herself."

There was a long moment of stunned silence after Ginny gave a short shriek of surprise.

"She committed suicide?" asked one fourth year, amazed.

"Well..." Harry started. "Sort of."

Everyone in the room blinked.

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?" asked the girl, wary.

"Well...she was in the bathroom," Harry started, nervous. "And, well...you know how she is, she's a little emo, so she was cutting her wrists, but not very deep...and, well...she might have been ok, but she forgot that the knife she was using she'd been using earlier in potions, to cut Batsminch—"

Harry didn't need to explain anything else, because the room went "OH," and cringed.

"That must have been painful," said one boy. "It's really terrible."

"Well, she told me that—" Harry started, but he was interrupted.

"She told you?"

"Well...yeah," said Harry, confused.

"So she's not dead? She's alright?"

"What? OH—NO! She's dead, she's a ghost," and the rest of the class nodded in understanding. "She's in that same bathroom that Myrtle died in."

"What do you think pushed her over the edge?" asked some small girl in the back.

"Nothing," said some other boy. "Didn't you hear? She forgot to wash her Potions knife before she cut herself with it."

"Well yeah, but what lead her to cutting?"

"Bright Eyes?" Rebekah ventured, but the other Gryffindor's didn't know what she was talking about.

"Well, I've got to get to class," said one older Gryffindor.

"Oh, me too," said another student.

"Think they'll cancel classes?" asked someone.

"Doubtful," said someone else.

When Harry looked up, the room was almost bare except three crying first years, a couple of seventh-years with off periods, and Ginny, who was sitting on of the chairs looking remorseful.

Harry caught her eye and motioned for her to follow him upstairs.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he closed the door, and she sat down on Ron's bare bed.

"It's my fault, Harry," she said, one single tear going down her face. "It's all my fault. She told me today that it had gotten out she was a lesbian, and that she—well, that she...liked me. I didn't know what to do—I just told her I wasn't interested and to leave me alone. I should have done something, I should have put her down a little easier..."

"Ginny," said Harry. "The fact that Icicle's dead is her own fault. She shouldn't have been playing around with that sort of thing and she should have remembered that her knife was contaminated."

"I know, Harry, but knowing that doesn't stop me from wondering if maybe—"

"Don't, Gins, don't blame yourself."

Harry crossed the room and started to kiss Ginny with zeal. They were beginning to enjoy themselves when a disturbance suddenly floated through the wall.

"AH-HA!"

Harry and Ginny pulled apart and stared, dazed, at the floating figure before them.

"Icicle," said Ginny, breathless. "I didn't—"

"You could have just told me you were straight, you know," said Icicle, glaring.

"Well...I thought that was obvious, Icicle, I mean...I dated Dean, didn't I?"

"But you were so different before," Icicle groaned. "When you were hanging out with me and Crabbe and Blaise and Goyle. Remember?"

"Not really," she said with an impatient huff.

"Well—fine, whatever. I'm going to go find someplace to set up a permanent residence. Think that Myrtle girl is going to kick me out of the bathroom soon?"

"Probably," said Harry. "Erm...Icicle? Are you going to tell anyone about this?"

Icicle gave Harry and Ginny a long, calculating look. Her eyes flickered back and forth between some evil thought and what might have been mercy, so Harry assumed she was having quite the struggle in her empty head.

"No," she said. "I'll give you a break, I guess. You were never that interested in me anyway, and it's not like we could be together now that I'm dead. That Grey Lady's pretty though, isn't she?" Icicle asked, looking hopeful. "Never mind, don't answer that. I'm leaving."

Harry and Ginny stared at each other, dazed, and continued snogging.