A Day Out of the Toilets
Chapter Two
Myrtle hid in the depths of the lake for the following week. Plotting – and moaning – were her day and night activities. Then finally, the young girl ghost felt compelled to go back to the castle and apologize. Not to the rotten – but cute – Potter boy, but to her bathroom. She felt she had been neglecting it.
With a little sigh Moaning Myrtle floated through the entrance hall, stairs, and into her little bit of heavenly stalls. The taps she had left running had been turned off long ago and even the floor was dry. Put out, Myrtle fazed and floated through every bit of the bathroom not really into it.
She still hadn't given up on her quest but some things had to be done. Even a ghost had responsibilities. Moaning Myrtle haunted the girl's bathroom on the second floor and therefore had a little control over it (like being able to turn the water on and flush the toilets.) but she had to haunt it for that to be true.
But once her duties were over, Myrtle's normally frown turned upwards. Without a pause the girl ghost fazed out the door and up several flights of stairs. This time she had a plan.
"Harry!" screamed the ghost of the bathroom. "Harry! Harry! HAAARRY!!"
She emerged in a room of red and gold and stopped. The Gryffindors in the room stopped too. Myrtle scowled, "Gold! More bloody GOLD!" Then she spotted the red girl.
"You, Weasley girl!" she snapped. The girl jumped and drained white. "You tell me why every thing in this rotten castle is gold."
"A-Ah . . . . Well, this is the Gryffindor common room. It's supposed to be red and gold."
"Hem, that's no excuse." Myrtle said. "Take me to Harry, Weasley girl."
The girl began to bubble off a question.
"I. Mean. Now!"
Weasley girl squeaked and nodded mutely. She hustled out of the common room, Myrtle followed. Weasley girl led her to the library, Myrtle flew in front of her now and spotted Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled together. She flew closer.
"What are you doing?" Moaning Myrtle asked poking her head through the red haired boy's back to look Harry in the eyes. Ron jumped away shivering while Harry and Hermione stepped back horror-struck.
"Nothing!" Harry said a little too quickly. Myrtle frowned.
"Just research Myrtle. Now, why are haunting Harry?" Hermione said. Myrtle quite liked Hermione, chiefly the half-cat Hermione which had cause Myrtle to be in a good mood for nearly a month. She supposed this full human girl was okay as well.
But still . . . "Hem, I am, hem, not haunting Harry."
"Then why are you following him?" asked Ron. Myrtle liked Ron too, he was always tripping over his feet and being stupid and causing funny scenes the ghost liked to laugh at.
"I need help." The girl ghost said. "You see, it's really quite sad. I can't recall my House."
"You're house? Like what where you lived?" Ronald asked.
"No you prune." Myrtle snapped, her voice rising. "My house. Ravenclaw! Hufflepuff! Slytherin! Or bloody Gryffindor! I can't remember which one's mine."
"Shhh!" said the librarian. The golden trio cowed back.
"Myrtle just calm down, please!" Hermione shushed but Myrtle began to hem, hem. "Let's talk outside, quickly now." The golden trio hustled out of the library while Moaning Myrtle floated after sobbing. A good distance away from the library and in an abandoned classroom the bushy hairs girl finally stopped and turned on the ghost.
"Now Myrtle," Hermie began in a Mother Teresa tone. "Tell us what why this is so important."
The ghost of the second floor bathroom nodded and with a wobbly lip told them all about how she had realized the castle was all gold and when she discovered she couldn't recall her House and what she had done so far to find the answers. Hermione took this all on with an understanding face, Harry was attempting to understand but got all prissy when she mentioned Snape again, and the Weasley looking bored and annoyed.
"So you need our help to find out your House." Hermione concluded. The girl ghost nodded, she was beginning to like the human Hermie a lot. The bushy Gryffindor looked determined.
"Alright, we'll help."
"What? Hermione!" sputtered Ron. "We can't help her, she's a loon! If it gets out that we're helping Moaning Myrtle we are going to be the laughing stock for the entire year!"
Myrtle snarled at him. "Like you already aren't. You should just hear the things the Slytherins say about you. And the Ravenclaws too! Even the Hufflepuffs have a good old time bashing up the Weasley name."
"Guy please!" The oh-so cute Harry pleaded. "Ron just back off. You don't have to help if you don't want to. Hermione you shouldn't sign us up for something we don't want to do – "
"Exactly!" Ron butted in.
" – But since you already did promise our services I at least will help." Harry finished. The ghost grinned and jumped on – um, though him. He shivered but sent her a small smile back. Hermione positively beamed. Ron did not.
"No way, Harry. Sorry but I'm out on this one, see you guys later." The Weasley looked at them like they were crazy and walked out. The stall creeping spirit stuck her tongue out at him.
"Okay, Myrtle. Let's start with the basics." Hermione said. She pulled out a notebook and quill.
"Alright," the ghost granted without difficulty.
"Who was your Head of House?"
"Ah . . . next question." Moaning Myrtle blushed.
"What part of the castle did you spend the most time in? The dungeons, the kitchens, or the towers."
"Oh, that's easy, the bathroom!" The ghost girl replied happily. "I remember being kicked out of the dorm regularly. Nasty little rats."
"Do you remember their names?" The Gryffindor questioned looking a bit uncomfortable.
"Ha, as if I would commit those bullies' names to memory."
Harry sighed impatiently. "Do you remember anyone?"
Myrtle sniffed. "Of course. I remember my professors and the Headmaster and that bully who made me cry the day I died. Oh and I remember that strange boy with the made up language."
The-Boy-Who-Lived and his girly sidekick cringed. "Okay, this clearly isn't getting us anywhere seeing as Myrtle can't remember anything." The living girl huffed.
"Hem, of course my memories rubbish. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't." retorted Moaning Myrtle.
"Obviously," Hermione growled.
Harry saved the day. "Can't we just ask the Sorting Hat? It doesn't seem like the kind of thing to forget something like that."
"Harry you are a genius!" the spirit squealed.
"That could actually work," Hermione admitted.
"Well let's go!" Myrtle yelled happily. She took off through the wall and beamed in hearing the other too following her in their slow humanly way. When they finally caught up it was just out side the Headmaster's office where Moaning Myrtle awaited having a nice chat with the gargoyle. His name was Freddy and he hated sweets. Myrtle found him adorable.
"Wait Myrtle, we don't have the password." Hermione panted.
"Pfft. Password Smashword." The ghost blew a password. "You mortals are so trivial." She turned to the guard. "Freddy be nice and open up would you?"
"Sure M. Anything for you." The gargoyle leaped away and even bowed politely to Myrtle. The girl ghost giggled and floated happily through.
"Wicked," Harry breathed and followed quickly while Hermione was muttering under her breath about 'about a hundred rules broken'.
The Headmaster's office was empty as they had thought but Myrtle had found her self being chewed out by the abundance of paintings. The hauntess of the Hogwarts toilets ignored them and floated to the high shelf where the Sorting Hat lay dormant.
"Hey! Sorting Hat, wake up!" she screeched. The hat sputtered and scrunched up. The grumpy face of the Sorting Hat looked at her.
"What do you want girl. I was sleeping." The hat growled.
"You sleep all year," Harry said. He lifted the hat off of the shelf and set it down on the stool below instead.
"Oh, it's you boy. I still say you would have done well in – "
"Yes, yes. I know what you said but I'm a Gryffindor so live with it." snapped Harry. The Sorting Hat sputtered indignity but cowed.
"Besides, this is about me, not Harry!" Myrtle cried. Looking thoroughly strained the hat softened his voice.
"What may I do for you Ms. Myrtle Maria Madison?"
Moaning Myrtle beamed at him. She was giddy with excitement. Finally she would get her answers. "What House did you sort me into?"
"I'm sorry my dear. There is no re-sorting here at Hogwarts, my dear." The Sorting Hat said gruffly. "I'm sorry but I can not help you."
"W-What! Hem, but I was, hem, hem, already sorted!" wailed Moaning Myrtle. "I just don't remember where!"
"Can't you just tell her?" Harry asked appalled.
"No! I refuse and I can't!" The hat cried. Myrtle began to moan, loud, high, and long. The paintings fled, the Gryffindors coward, and the Sorting Hat hid. She wailed for hours, then for days, and then for months. She didn't move from the office and didn't breathe. Under the fifth month the Sorting Hat finally cracked under the glares of the Headmaster, Golden Trio, and paintings.
"Alright! Alright! You stubborn pig-nosed brat. I'll tell you!" the hat screamed. Myrtle's screaming stopped at once. The castle took a deep breath and the Sorting Hat yelled out one word.
And on that day the girl ghost of the second floor bathroom, The-Ghost-Who-Won't-Shut-Up, Moaning Myrtle, and Ms. Myrtle Maria Madison became an official bloody Ravenclaw. When the news was announced, several things began at once. First of, everyone in the castle let out a sigh of relief; many pulled ear plugs from their ears or removed silencing spells. The Golden Trio ran to the Headmaster's office at once. Hermione was gloating – she had figured it out weeks ago. After all, some one had to be particularly clever and determined for information to scream for so many weeks. Dumbledore moved out of the abandoned class room and reclaimed his office. He hadn't been smart enough to think of telling the ghost himself what house she had been in. He had been her teacher after all. As for Myrtle . . .
She went back to her bathroom and began to re-haunt it once again. She still moaned and she was still moody. She still had a pig-nose and a fat face and messy hair. She still thought the golden castle was favoritism.
Things changed.
Girls came to her bathroom now. Some even came just to talk to the legendary ghost. People still called her Moaning Myrtle but they did so with reverence and awe. She was still a bit of a loon and she still fawned over Harry but grew out of the crush. Hermione became her new best friend and together they would sneak books from the restricted section. She later married Peeves and helped him carry out his stunts and general tormenting. They have never been happier.
Life in the castle went on and things change but the death of Moaning Myrtle had never been better.
AN// This wasn't quite how I wanted to end it but the only way I could think of. Beware however, this will not be the last of Myrtle!