Renewed Tears
It would have seemed simple to anyone else, but not to Myrtle. The single fact that Bakura did not avoid her like a plague, or simply tease her, meant everything to the young girl. She knew it was too good to last, but the whispers of the other students seemed all the quieter since she had met him.
"You, girl!" Myrtle instinctively turned at the beckoning, and was surprised to be met by a taller girl with long blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a smile.
"Yes?" Myrtle froze in her tracks, eyes locked on the figure before her that, she surmised, was somewhere around fourth or fifth year.
"What is your name?" The girl was now only a foot away from Myrtle, her face still openly friendly, but her tone demeaning enough, as if she were speaking with a first year, that it rubbed Myrtle's skin the wrong way.
"Myrtle Pryor," Myrtle hesitated, wondering what it was she really wanted, because it certainly wasn't her.
"And I am Diana Rosmerta." The girl replied, not seeming to notice Myrtle's hesitance. "It was lovely meeting you, but, I was wondering if you could tell me the name of the boy you ate lunch with."
Well, she had finally cut to the chase, and if it was only that Myrtle at least had nothing humiliating to fear from her, but, she still didn't want to tell her. Then again, knowing his name wouldn't do anything, would it? But she was so much prettier then she was; she was being childish. "Bakura," Myrtle replied simply, turning away to go to her next class.
"And, not to seem so obvious, but," taking a few steps to catch up with Myrtle, and actually caught up her arm. "There is anything between you two is there?"
The blood came to Myrtle's cheeks, but she shook her head determinedly. There was nothing between them, but Myrtle's interest, and his lack of knowledge, and that was about to dissolve anyway, at least for him…
"Thank-you," and with a last flash of a smile, and those vibrant eyes, she was gone again.
Well, that had effectively downed her for the rest of her life; with a final sigh her entire body drooped back to its normal slouch as she turned back to her classroom.
"Diana just wanted to know about the new boy."
"I heard she hasn't been able to keep her eyes off of him."
"Curves like hers, he's so lucky."
"Oh, doesn't fat old Pryor look upset."
"She'll be bawling in a minute."
A single tear did start down her cheek, and her nose began to fill; sniffing, it fell to the ground.
They were supposed to be vanishing spoons, but no matter how Myrtle tried, the most she did was to melt one to the desk.
Moving to pick up her bag, all the contents fell through the bottom. From somewhere she heard giggles; the tears came again.
"No need to cry over spilled milk." Professor Dumbledore moved to pick up Myrtle's bag; offering her a comforting smile, he handed her bag to her in one piece. "I must also thank you for how you've been helping Bakura. It is a rather odd situation, and you've been a tremendous help."
"You're welcome." Myrtle sniffled, rubbing the back of her hand across her face; blushing ever so slightly, she walked out of the classroom, to dinner.
"She cried all through transfiguration."
"She's always crying."
"She didn't yesterday…"
Looking up and down the Slytherin table Myrtle spotted Bakura, but images of Rosmerta flashed through her mind, and she moved towards the other end of the table; only a few feet closer to the rest of the house then she was used to, but, if she was going to have to give him up anyway…
Picking at her pudding, she watched as water dripped into her food, hardly aware she was crying; as soon as she did, she dropped her fork and, jumping off the bench, she walked out two thirds through dinner; as soon as she was out of the Great Hall she broke into a run, all the way up to the second floor lavatory. Slamming the cubicle door shut she let loose the flood.
"Ran out of dinner crying,"
"I keep telling you, she is just a hose when it comes to crying."
"Emotional little chit isn't she?"
"Look at how red her eyes are."
Myrtle was greeted by a barrage of whispers when she finally did return to her common room, her head and eyes throbbing; the only thing to look forward to, a pile of homework.
"Does the moan have a crush?" Hornby lost no time to walk up behind Myrtle, and jab her in the back.
"Why would you think that?" Myrtle spat, whirling around to face her adversary. Bakura had been her secret, and now he was a public spectacle; slipping from her grasp.
"Did you two have a fight? You didn't eat together."
"No." It was the only word Myrtle could force out past the tears that stubbornly were forming at the corners of her eyes, and clogging her throat.
"Broke your heart did he? Well, even he's too good for you." Horby finished, shrugging, and walked away.
To hell with all her homework! Myrtle walked slowly to the stairs, planning on going to bed right away, her eyes swimming with tears. Half way down, however, a misstep landed her bottom firmly on the stairs; there would surly be a bruise in the morning. Staying there, she cursed whatever had ill fated her to this life, silent tears flowing freely down her face in the dark.