She died.
Not in this world, but the other one. The [real] one. She woke up in an unfamiliar room smelling like chemical potions and horrible medicine in a body that wasn't hers. She knew that fact because she remembered her past life before finding herself here. She had been terribly sick and was supposed to die before her thirties. But life was an ultra bitch it seemed, because she had her last breath on her eighteenth birthday. Dead without a boyfriend, without a degree, without having lived to the fullest. Such a sad soap opera, huh.
And even realizing being born in a famous novel universe had not been any less depressing. First, because she was reborn in a fourteen years old body. Four years apart from her real age, meaning she'd have to pretend being more stupid than she was for the remaining time to grow up. Second because, apparently, her mother despises her for the simple reason that she is born a girl and can't seem to make another kid. She never sees her father most of the time and David Floquet doesn't seem to care for her as much as Marilyn Floquet (née Redshire.) She is fine with this- she couldn't get to love a brand new family just because they were tied by blood anyway. So, being rejected by strangers made things easier for Eileen.
And third and lastly...
She was aware.
Aware of this reincarnation crap, her previous life and aware of the Harry Potter universe. She had begun to figure it out the moment her magic manifested. And God, it was such a massive, bloody powerful magic she'd ever dreamed of possessing in her non-magical world. Only, the most infuriating thing in this situation wasn't the fact she has discovered the real Eileen was considered half a squib due to other girl's illness.
It was the fact she was reborn in the 1940's instead of the current timeline in the canon. Meaning that she knew what was going to happen in every details. Grindelwald, Tom Riddle, Dumbledore, the war. The future of those three was in Eileen's knowledge despite herself, as if Fate wanted to send her a message. As if Fate, this damn ugly useless bitch, wanted Eileen to take action and become a heroic figure after defeating some dumbasses that other powerful grown-up people hadn't been capable of taking down.
"Fuck you" was the very first word Eileen said after two weeks of voluntary muteness.
Harry Potter had been cruelly thrown into politics, in the adult world without being one and without having a say in the matter, like a pig sent to slaughter as Snape bravely spat once. Oh, how she pitied the poor protagonist for playing the gentle, innocent little pawn of everyone in the novel. There was absolutely no way she would become like him.
So, this is in a new skin that Eileen Gladys Floquet was sent back to Hogwarts to pursue her studies in the most famous school of magic. A new Eileen no one in the school could recognize. A new Eileen with an emotion rate nearing zero. A new Eileen who could not give a fuck about childish insults, nasty hexes and crude words, because she was simply fed up with everything.
She has decided to live the fullest in this world, the way she wants to. That is, without doing anything. With no one to tell her what to do, with no Fate to fuck her life up like a stupid martyr for its ridiculous fantastic universe.
Their attempt to make her shed out a single tear lasted six whole months before everything changed for Eileen. As none of the bullying took effect on her anymore, she was ignored most of the time until the most popular slytherin girl of her year, Sadell Eldwins, decided to make Eileen her extra croony. On a day while she was peacefully reading one of her erotic indecent novel, Eldwins appeared out of nowhere and talked to her for the very first time.
Eileen doesn't really understand how, but at some point in the bizarre one-way conversation they had, she became Sadell's domestic the year prior. Grabbing her bag here and there, noting her homework now and then, brushing her hair, being used as a dummy practice for her spells... Kinda similar to one of a bullied kid's routine, indeed. But strangely, since she'd been taken in by the slytherin's icy Queen, Eileen's life had been a lot quieter than before. And the lazy girl could now enjoy a harmonious life within Hogwarts walls like a normal student...
"Oh shit."
... Or could she?
"Who is here! Show yourself!" A whimpering, snotty Myrtle cries out loud in the toilet cabin. Great, just Eileen's luck. She only wanted to pee in peace while Sadell was busy trying to get Riddle's ultra-worthy attention. It's been a wonderful week, Eileen had thought nothing would interrupt her quiet introvert bubble but of course, she had to come across the worst character of the moment.
"No one," Eileen answers automatically and prepares for an immediate spin. But it's too late-
"You came to make fun of me too!" Myrtle moans. Her cries intensifies so much it's impossible not to hear the gush of tears dropping on the dirty tiles of the bathroom.
"I came here to relieve myself, nothing more. So please, don't pay any attention to me."
She says that while entering the adjacent cabin and pulls down half of the clothes to be done with her natural needs. Silence fills the place. The only sound echoing through the bathroom is the stream of liquid coming from Eileen's stall for a dozen of seconds. This is a bit embarrassing but really, she could not have reach the other bathroom in time otherwise.
"That is a lot of urine," the other girl sniffes.
"Do you mind?" Eileen groans.
The stream diminishes to be replaced by small drops invading the silence once again.
"How many liters did you drink today?"
"A little privacy would be appreciated, thanks."
"You interrupted my crying moment," Myrtle accuses, "I was there first."
"You know, sometimes I wonder how you can't figure out why you get bullied by everyone Warren. You are naturally insuferable."
Silence fills the toilets again. Then, a loud wave of cries with the power to make anyone near the source of the noise deaf erupts from Warren's cabin. Eileen has to cover her ears to avoid the dangerous screeching sound. It's like a fire alarm, dammit!
"Tone it down, moron!" Eileen yells above the howling sobs. She doesn't want half of the school running into the toilets while she was still on the throne!
"Y-You're so mean! Meaner than Hornby! How could you say that to me!?"
"Okay, okay– I was wrong so stop crying for Heaven's sake!"
Myrtle stops weeping but the sobs are still there, ready to burst into deafening bombs again. Sighing, Eileen finishes her little business before pushing the magical flush and getting out of the cabin to knock open Warren's. The other girl looks shocked for a second, but Eileen wasn't having a new set of whimpers anytime soon.
"Listen here, Warren- I am not here to bully you like the other stupid brainless little shits in your class. I don't care what you say or do or think or whatever, but crying and whining about every little thing against you is not going to help you in the future. You have to stand for yourself someday or you're gonna be a forever loser like Hornby likes to call you. I'm certain you don't want to let her win, do you?"
Before Warren could utter a word- or a sob- Eileen is already turning back to the exit, leaving the bathroom with a constricted face. She really hopes she hadn't messed up with the canon scenario by aggressively addressing Myrtle for the first time. The latter isn't supposed to know of her existence but there again, Eileen is not supposed to exist in this universe to begin with.
So, fuck everything.
She wanted to let the story go with the flow but ever since she woke up here, it surely was already messed up. Why bother? Britain was not going to be saved until more than half a century later anyway, because Eileen was not going to do anything. And before saving the world(or not), she had Aritmancy homework due tomorrow.
The days go by, bitter cold turns to sweet heat in no time. What should have been peaceful moment and dangerless rest for Eileen is now a broken haven as she breathes anxiety every time Warren comes to view.
Trying to ignore the humanoid crying machine's existence gives no result, because the grown crybaby's presence is awfully loud wherever she goes. Be it to whimp or sob or complain about something completely worthless of any attention. It is hard. Really hard for Eileen not to just shake the poor girl and tell her not to approach the second floor bathrooms for the following weeks. Or is it days? Months? Damn, when exactly is the homicid going to take place again?
It is such a pain to watch Warren and Riddle at the same time trying not to be so obvious. She couldn't concentrate on her muggle novels anymore at the library, nor could she take her eyes off Riddle everytime the little mischevious snake goes off in some of the castle's dark places alone. Was she their freaking secret babysitter or something? The answer was most than evident, and she doesn't like it in the slightest.
"You look constipated," Elizabeth sneers above her textbook, "I have some potions to help with digestive disorder if needed."
"No thanks," Eileen says blankly. "My digestive system is well and needs not any of your creepy stuff."
Elizabeth snorts but doesn't insist. She rather prefers to ignore the slytherin's marginal's presence for the rest of the day. And who is Eileen to complain, really?
"At least try to arrange your appearance when you're in public," Malfoy adds with disgust and Eileen decides to take offense for this.
"Well, I would have had the time to look a bit presentable had someone not conjured dozen of magpies in my sleep to force my poor self awake."
"One minute more in this bed and you would have made us all late for History of Magic Class."
She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes while turning to Sadell. "I told you I was fine being late. Pr. Binns doesn't care who assist his classes or not. We're not even sure if that guy's aware he is giving classes."
"And who would've hold my bags then, Floquet?"
Urgh. Always the same damn pick-up line from those pulpous, irritating lips. But Sadell interrupts what she's about to answer to this already.
"Anyway, tell me instead where do you go off everytime my back is turned like a little kid scheming bad things?"
Oh. She was expecting the question sooner or later. The dark glares Eldwins gives her since weeks have a lot to tell and ask. But Eldwins values her noble pride far too much to take interest in a little pest's outdoors activities. Like she'd tell them about her little trips to the—
"Bathrooms."
She blinked.
Although the attention is now diverted from her, she hadn't expected Orion to answer in the first place. The boy isn't even looking at her. He just gazes at the ceiling, sitting in a very informal way unworthy of a pureblood that must give Malfoy ulcers just at the sight.
"What?" Atheis frowns, like everyone at the table. "So you really are diagnosed with digestive disorder-"
"Am not," she cut sharply, more of shame than of anger. "If everyone wants to know, I have a very little urine bladder in this sick, poor little body I unfortunately own, thus forcing me to go take a piss every hour. Satisfied?"
She takes comfort at the faces of absolute revulsion coloring most of the Slytherins at their table. Ha. Serves them well. However, Orion hasn't seem to be finished with his unwelcome inquiry, because now the Black heir stopped fixing the ceiling to direct his gaze right at her.
"Really? Always in the same bathrooms even though there are other ones closer than the second floor's?"
Never has she wanted to slam his head against the table more than right now. She has grown rigid, because she could feel Riddle's eyes dig holes into her. Once again it proved that the little psychopath really is listening to their conversation while pretending to be immersed in his book. She tries like a maniac not to meet his glare.
"Is it weird to favour a bathroom over another? And exactly how is it your problem anyway? Since when where I pee has become such a great interest for the slytherin's almighty?"
Okay, maybe this actually sounds a bit too defensive. But she has a future murderer to keep at bay, and Orion was getting on her nerves. It's like this little tempest of a boy could see through the layer of flesh to uncover every little secrets you're dying to hide from the world. Crazy.
"Floquet is right," Avery sighs, "This is irrelevant and I don't particularly care about her private habits. Let's all forget what we just heard, okay?"
"Tch. I still wonder why the heck she's sitting with us."
Such a lovely man, Abraxas.
"Sadell's little dog," Orion smiles.
She smiles back. Because indeed, she is Sadell's obedient dog most of the time, and because she has enough of being the center of attention at the current time. Riddle had yet to avert his gaze, so let's fake being dumb for now.
"I liked it more when we were ignoring the wench," Atheis grimaced.
"So sorry to bother you. May I be excused in order to clean the space from my disgracious being?"
Eileen would be more than pleased to oblige. At least she will have a reason not to stick with the band of aristocratic idiots for the rest of the day. Alas, Sadell had other plans for her. "Don't even try to run, Floquet. We are in public, and we won't allow the little rat you are to prove the lions that we are not a proud, united House."
"I'm just gonna take a stroll. You know, bad blood circulation and all—"
"Eileen Floquet."
Oooh. The whole name's always a sign of bad omen coming from Eldwins. Eileen sighs and sits back down between Elizabeth and Mulciber. Her defeated look seems to sway Riddle's sharp curiosity away for now. At last! About a minute later, she is finally out of everyone's scrutiny. Conversations about politics and big shots of the Ministry starts rising among the snakes, and Eileen is simply happy to tune it out to focus on something else, like the opening of the Great Hall's doors and the slouched silhouette in blue passing through them to go sit at the farest bench of the Ravenclaw's table.
It was a pain to constantly watch over Myrtle at first, watching how slow she is for everything, be it to react or even walk, watching her being bullied by younger wizards, watching her sob, cry, deserve the title of the Moaning Myrtle. But little by little Eileen has gotten almost intrigued by the life of one of the most picked on of Howgarts.
How come Warren couldn't dodge that childish hex? How come she hasn't seen the horrible words cut into the back of her robe last week? How can she only cry and complain instead of blowing everything away out of anger- except for the lack of magical power stored in the frail body she possesses? How could this girl dare to think for one moment that she could have a chance with Tom Riddle or the handsome seven year Ravenclaw, Jared Gall?
So many questions, so many unsolved mysteries around that little creature worth a full documentary. It makes Eileen burning for more. She needs to save this idiot crybaby and shake Warren's delusional brain out to force her to accept the bitter reality.
She has half a year to act against Riddle's devilish schemes. She knows the demonic twerp has already begun his plans of taking the sleeping Beast under control once he finds it- lf he hasn't already. Riddle's absence have become more and more noticeable in the last weeks lately, making Eileen stressed out regarding the future case of petrified students mysteriously showing around in dark corridors.
A small cry pulls her out of her mind. Automatically, her eyes dart on the Ravenclaw table and Eileen is not surprise to see Hornby in action, pouring pumpkin juice on her favorite victim's hair. Seriously, what are the adults waiting for to react, not doing anything about the more-than-obvious bullying right in front of their eyes?! She can see Slughorn avert gaze from the scene. Dumbledore only sighs faintly like he is simply watching two kids arguing for a broken toy. The other professors are too passionately engaged in a conversation to realize what is occuring under their supervision, and the rest of them seem to be thinking of an unfortunate accident.
Ha.
Really, no wonder adults of the next generation are such fucking brainless incompetent sheeps. They even voted for the king of morons decades later, not knowing he will be the man causing their and their kids' doom.
Eileen is so enraged all of sudden.
Without realizing what she is doing, her icy stare fixed on the sneering girl turns into a death glare that shifts something in the air. Her will to cause Horny harm is suddenly so strong, she doesn't know what is happening until a shriek from the Ravenclaw's side echoes throughout the entire Hall.
The girl is now drenched in every possible sauces that was previously in her friends' plates, which were previously on the table before they flew over every parts of the Ravenclaw's skin and clothes. Her face is now covered in a sticky orange while every part of her smells of oil and grease from head to toes.
Silent fills the Hall for what seems an eternity, until a loud snort breaks the general shock of what just happened.
Eileen couldn't hold it anymore. She claps a hand over her mouth but it's too late—
"What is happening?" Dippet's voice rises with severity. "Who did this!"
Oh, now he is reacting, Eileen wants to speak out loud but contents herself with rolling her eyes.
The only satisfaction she can get is Myrtle's face that is mixed with horror and amusment at the same time, along with Hornby's pride being crushed down when half the students started to laugh for Eileen's greatest pleasure. Sadly, every good thing has to end. A twirl from Merrythought's wand and a simple Evanesco later, Hornby and Myttle are as immaculate as newborns again. The former screeching and hysterical, yes, but stainless nonetheless.
"Wow, I don't know what happened but Hornby reaped what she sowed."
"What are you saying?" Abraxas raises a perfectly plucked brow.
"Whoever did this, I must say it was time someone put her in her place. She can get as infuriating as Moaning Myrtle sometimes."
Look at you Nott, pretending to be clean when you gladly endorsed you peers humiliating me last year, Eileen mentally huffs.
Seeing Myrtle running off from the Hall like a thief, Eileen springs out of the bench, startling Elizabeth next to her. "Where are you going?"
"None of your business."
"Don't tell me it's the bathroom again," Lestrange groans.
"Floquet," Eldwins warns darkly, "We have to get in Potions on time. Be late and you won't like what I will do to you. Avery's hexes will be child's play compared to this."
"Hey!"
"Don't worry. I'll be there before Slughorn praises Riddle for breathing."
"You little—"
Cutting off Mulciber's sharp words and Orion's laughter, Eileen dashes out of the Hall on the hunt for the soon-to-be haunting bathroom's ghost named Myrtle Warren.