"What happened that night?" His voice was soft and pleading in the cold lavatory.
"Sirius, you do not want to know." Her voice was trembling terribly.
"Myrtle, please." There was a sharp desperation in his voice that chilled her to her transparent core.
"If I…If I tell you…you have to promise not to…do something stupid." The possibilities of his actions paraded through her mind, each more foolish of him than the last.
"Myrtle—"
"Sirius, promise me." The hard urgency in her voice made him wary to agree, but he needed to know.
"Fine."
"That night, I saw you and Lena together…it hurt me." Sirius looked away in shame.
"I left the kitchen and I wasn't watching where I was going. I…I ran into someone."
"Who?" he said through clenched teeth.
"Amycus Carrow." she whispered. "He…he…I tried to get away…but he grabbed me and dragged me into the lavatory. I tripped, sprained my ankle. He asked…asked if I…wanted to play."
Sirius' hands had curled into fists—his knuckles whitening from the pressure.
"I said no…but he didn't…didn't care. He called me 'Moaning Myrtle' and he…forced me…to…" she trailed off, unable to whisper the truth.
Sirius stood up forcefully.
"Sirius, no!"