The Gloriana Set

Moaning Myrtle

Hermione's pride faded a bit when she entered her next Potions class on Wednesday and saw Lavender absent yet again. Her former roommate was staying away, and Hermione had a dark suspicion why. She lingered in the potions supply closet to check the Mauraders' Map, blocking the door shut so nobody could see. Since nearly all the students were in classes, Lavender's dot was easy to find in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Hermione sighed—nobody went into Myrtle's bathroom to celebrate the good things in life. Lavender was likely crying in there, too scared to go to Potions.

Hermione returned to the table and flung down the ingredients. "You'll have to brew this Confusing Concoction alone," she told Malfoy with a slight glare. "I have a mess to clean up." He looked at her quizzically, but she just shook her head and walked off to wheedle a pass out of Slughorn.

Pass obtained, she wove through the corridors toward Myrtle's bathroom. Lavender owed her big; Hermione had to agree to another dog-and-pony-show on Saturday night before Slughorn would write the pass. Godric forbid a Slytherin just did something without a favor in return.

She could hear the sound of wild, uncontrolled tears as she approached the bathroom door. Hermione was no stranger to crying in a bathroom herself: over Harry, over Ron, over other students' insults. She'd cried many a time over Malfoy's words, too. Boys were wretched beings, every one of them.

Lavender was sitting curled up on the stone tile floor, Myrtle's ghost floating before her, the bathroom half-flooded as usual. Neither noticed Hermione's entrance.

"... head between her legs," Lavender was saying.

"What else did you say?" Myrtle asked, her voice filled with excitement.

"I said it was hot, that he likes it rough."

"He's so naughty ... do you think he likes it rough?"

"Oh yes, he probably wouldn't be romantic, he'd just push you against a wall ..."

Merlin. Hermione had to stop this conversation before she threw up all over the bathroom. "Hello, Lavender," she said loudly, stepping further inside.

"You!" Myrtle's face convulsed with rage. Hermione wasn't her favorite person anyway, and now she'd interrupted what was probably the ghost's most titillating conversation ever. "Get out of my bathroom, Kitty!"

Hermione ignored her and knelt before Lavender. She could see the deep scars on the young woman's legs and felt a twinge of guilt. "Lavender," she said again.

Lavender looked up and her face was streaked with black makeup lines. "Come to finish me off, have you?" she snapped.

"No," Hermione said, settling back on her heels. "You weren't at Potions again."

"I tried," Lavender said. "I just ... couldn't."

"Fine!" Myrtle shouted. "Ignore me! Everyone wants to talk to Myrtle until somebody living comes along and it's back to the toilet!" She started sobbing. "I'll never get to have that blond—"

"Don't say it!" Lavender and Hermione shrieked together.

"Fine!" the ghost shouted again. "Be that way!" she flounced off, and they could hear her sobbing in the toilet in the last stall.

"That was close," Hermione said. Lavender smiled a tiny smile, which grew into a snicker, and soon they were both giggling. Every time they managed to stop, Myrtle would give a loud moan, and set them off again.

"Lavender," Hermione said when they'd finally calmed down. "Please, tell me." She tried to keep her voice gentle. "Why did you do it? Why did you say you shagged Malfoy?"