Cheer Up, Myrtle!

Myrtle sat in her usual toilet seat.

Well, maybe not in, but one didn't care about such things when they were dead.

Myrtle sniffled.

Just because someone was dead, it didn't mean that that someone could be ignored. It wasn't her fault she was dead.

Stupid alive people.

She started crying loudly.

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Five minutes earlier
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Myrtle watched in amazement as Harry Potter hurriedly got up from the floor, gave her cheerful wave goodbye, and disappeared out the door.

She flouted, watching the door for a few moments.

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A couple of moments earlier
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Myrtle lifted her head up from looking at Harry, who was sitting on the floor, as the door opened.

Harry must have lifted his head as well because he squeaked, "Professor?"

"Mr. Potter." Professor Snape was glaring down at the two of them. Myrtle felt insulted.

"What do you think you're doing here?" the professor continued. "This facility is specifically designed for members of the female sex." Myrtle heard Harry swallow. She drifted a little away from the professor. "I don't recall you having any rights to be here."

"Yes, Professor," whispered Harry, looking down again.

"Acknowledgement of your crime will not help you," the professor's voice was deadly. Myrtle thought that if she could shiver, she would. Harry was trembling. "You will not go unpunished."

Harry nodded miserably.

"Meet me at my office half an hour after dinner to serve your punishment."

Harry looked up, but the professor was already gone and the door was slowly closing.

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Minutes before
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"It's not that bad," tried Myrtle. "I mean, what's the worse that can happen?"

Harry flopped on the floor, leaning on one of the closed doors. "I don't know. But it's pretty bad already."

"One of you could be dead," suggested Myrtle happily.

Harry's horror struck face told Myrtle that was the wrong thing to say.

"Um...." she tried to think of something.

"Forget it," said Harry. "It's useless."

"You're right. Everything is totally my fault." Myrtle was very pleased with herself. "But I want to make it up to you. How about you use my bathroom ALL the time. I promise not to scream again. What do you think?"

Harry sniffled a little.

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A couple of minutes prior
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Harry walked down the long corridor, away from his two best friends.

Some best friends they were, one too shocked, one too angry. What did they think he was? A five year old? He knew what he wanted, what he felt. Who were they to try and tell him to do?

He glared at a passing student.

Damn, he was rubbing off on him.

And it's not like it's illegal. He checked. Bloody unsafe with Voldmort still running around, but not against the rules.

Where was he going? He couldn't go to HIM. It was too early. People might get suspicious. The last thing they needed was people prying, and talking behind their backs.

Harry shuddered.

Where could he go to sulk peacefully?

It took him a few moments, but it came to him. The bathroom.

Who would look for him there after everything?

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Some time before
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"Harry, really, it's all right," said Hermione Granger, one of Harry's two best friends. "It's kind of hard to digest, but -"

Harry nodded. He was sitting on his bed in the Gryffindor tower. Hermione was pacing back and forth in front of him.

"I understand," said Harry. "You don't have to repeat it over and over again."

Hermione gave him a weak smile and probably would have said something else had the door to the room not slammed open and admitted Ron Weasley.

"Oh," he spat. "You're here."

"Ron," tried Hermione, looking concerned. "Please, try -"

"Stuff it,' snapped Ron. Hermione took a step back. "What are you doing here?'

"Where else should I be?" Harry said calmly. He was torn between the urge to run and the urge to punch Ron in the face.

"Maybe with your boyfriend, fag."

"Hypocrite," hissed Harry. He stood up from the bed and stormed out of the room. Behind him, he heard Hermione shouting.

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Just moments before
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Hermione knocked on the door to the boys' dormitory.

No one answered. She tried again.

"Harry, can I come in?"

"What for?" came the muffled answer.

"So I could apologize."

"For what?" Harry could be SO annoying when he wanted to be, thought Hermione.

"Just let me in."

"The door is open."

Hermione shook her head and entered. The curtains around Harry's bed were drawn. She sighed and perched on Ron's bed.

"It's just a little shocking. You never told us you're gay, let alone dating him."

Harry peeked around the curtains. "Do you mind a lot?"

Hermione half shrugged. "It will take getting used to."

Harry opened the curtains all the way. "You're not mad at me?"

"No, no," she smiled.

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Some time earlier
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"Um..." said Seamus.

"I second that," said Dean.

Hermione looked at them sternly. "Can you be serious for just a second?"

"You know, that's rather hard," said Seamus.

"Yeah, considering what you just told us," added Dean. "We really, really didn't expect that."

Hermione rolled her eyes at them. "I fainted, remember?"

"Well, considering you actually SAW it, I don't blame you." Seamus was as red as a tomato.

"The mental image is desorbing enough," agreed Dean.

Hermione decided not to comment on that. "You know, I don't think we should stay here."

Seamus and Dean looked glad at the change of subject.

"Yeah, said Dean. "It doesn't look good."

"Standing in front of the girls' bathroom and all," added Seamus.

Hermione hid a secret smile. "Do you know where I could find Harry?"

"Try the dormitory," said Dean. "That's where we saw him last."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks."

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A couple of minutes before
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"Would you SHUT UP?"

The three people in the room jumped and stared in the direction the voice came from.

Moaning Myrtle was floating in front of one of the cubicles. She looked angry.

"I'm sick of this!" she yelled at them. "First, everyone picks on me because, unfortunately, I'm a ghost, then all of you lot come here, and - and make all of this noise!"

Hermione looked down and Seamus and Dean shuffled their feet.

"Get out of my bathroom!" Myrtle screamed. "I don't ever want to see you here again!"

The three teenagers hurriedly left.

Moaning Myrtle was NEVER angry, and now that she was, it was SCARY.

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Mere seconds earlier
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"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

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Moments before
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"Look!" Seamus pointed to the floor.

Dean looked. "Oh."

They stared at the fainted form for a few moments.

"No wonder Harry and Ron are upset," said Seamus finally.

"Ai," echoed Dean. "She looks petrified."

Seamus glanced at Dean. "Well, there's only one way to find out."

Dean nodded. "Only thing, I'm not sure I want to know."

"Nonsense!" said Seamus. "I can't wait to find out what split the dream-team. Now, help me here."

The two crouched on either side of Hermione and started shaking her.

"Hermione, Hermione, wake up."

"Hu? Harry? Ron?"

"No, it's Dean and I," said Seamus.

"Oh, OK." Her voice was small.

"Listen," tried Dean, helping her to sit up. "We just saw Harry. What happened?"

She told them.

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About five minutes earlier
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"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, geesh," said Seamus. "What a name."

"Yeah," said Dean. "It's good Parvati could tell us where it is."

Seamus nodded, turning into another corridor. "I wonder how Harry knows it, though."

Dean snickered. "Seamus, you have a brain for a reason."

Seamus looked at him. "What? You think some girl dragged him there?"

Dean continued to snicker. "It is possible."

"But, then, what got Ron so worked up?"

"I don't know."

"Then let's go faster." Seamus grinned. They quickened their pace.

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Some time before
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"Heya, Harry!" Seamus bounced on Ron's bed across from Harry. "What's up?"

Harry lifted his eyes and glared weakly at him. "None of your business."

"Of course it is!" announced Seamus, ever the happy one. "When one of out friends is upset, it's our job to make whomever is responsible very, very miserable."

Dean looked from Seamus to Harry and shook his head. "Really, Seamus, you won't convince Lavender with that excuse, and she agrees with everything you say."

"Thank you, Dean," said Harry and closed the curtains around his bed.

"So, what's going on?" Dean stuck his head around the curtains.

Harry groaned. "Leave me alone."

"No." Seamus' head joined Dean's. "What happened?"

"Go ask Hermione, if you're so interested." Harry obviously gave up.

"OK," said Seamus and went away. Dean counted until five.

Seamus ran back into the room. "Err, where exactly is Hermione?"

Harry buried his head in his pillow. "Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Leave me alone!"

"Thanks, Harry," said Dean, going after Seamus and closing the door behind him.

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Before that
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Seamus and Dean sat in the Gryffindor common room, playing a friendly game of wizardying chess (Dean was winning).

"You know, that's a very stupid move to make," commented Seamus, after Dean moved the Queen two squares to the right. "I will be able to beat you in three goes now."

Dean said nothing.

Seamus moved his pawn a square. Dean checkmated him.

"Ha!" exclaimed Seamus. "Dumb luck! That's what I call that! You probably magicked that bishop there! You could never beat me if it wasn't for that!"

Dean sighed. Seamus ALWAYS acted like that.

"Another game?" he asked innocently.

"You bet."

The pieces on the board started to pick and re-arrange themselves up.

"I'm defiantly going to -" started Seamus, but he was interrupted by a sudden commotion in the room.

He and Dean lifted their eyes just in time to see one of their roommates, namely Ron, storm past.

"What do you recon happened?" asked Dean.

"Let's go find out?" grinned Seamus, their game forgotten.

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In the dormitory, a moment earlier
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"You fucking bastard!" yelled Ron at Harry. "I never thought you'd sink that low!"

"Ron -" tried Harry weakly.

"You disgust me," spat Ron.

He walked away and slammed the door after him.

Harry sighed heavily, and tried to convince himself things weren't that bad, after all, Seamus, Dean and Neville didn't know anything.

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Five minutes earlier
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"Sit," ordered Ron, pointing at Harry's bed. Harry complied.

Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't lose his best friend.

"I don't even know what to tell you." Ron was pacing in front of him. "It's not every day that -" He shuddered, took a deep breath. "WHAT THE FUCKING HELL WERE YOU THINKING???"

Harry cringed. "Ron, I -"

Ron wasn't listening. "It's not like I mind that much you're gay. I mean, I can live with that, but -" he struggled for words for a moment, and then turned to Harry. "Ew!"

"Ron, listen to me. You just don't know him. He's not like he seems at all. I mean, he IS sarcastic and cold sometimes, but there's a different part to him -"

Ron's face twisted into a grimace. "That's disgusting. You're defending him."

"I love him, Ron. And he loves me."

Ron shook his head. "You're deluded. "He's incapable of anything of that sort. I bet he doesn't even know the definition of the word."

At that, Harry's face hardened. "How dare you? You have no idea what you're talking about, so you better not say anything at all."

For the first time in this conversation Ron stopped and looked at Harry. "You're serious. You actually love that -'

"Yes, I do."

Ron's expression was of total disgust, very deep disgust.

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A few moments prior
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"Oh," whispered Hermione. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted.

To Harry's misfortune, Ron didn't. He took Harry's arm and started dragging him away.

"Ron, stop. No, let go!"

"You're not going to get away from me that easily, mate," hissed Ron. "I'm doing this for your own good."

"My own good?" Harry was frantically trying to free himself from Ron's grip and go back to his lover. "I wasn't in any danger!"

"Of course not." They were halfway to Gryffindor tower. "Just some minor mind control spell. NOTHING serious."

"Stop exaggerating. I wasn't forced into anything," hissed Harry so that the passing students wouldn't overhear.

"It's alright, Harry," continued Ron. "You don't have to cover for him. He can't hurt you anymore."

"Ron." Harry stopped the both of them. "He did NOT force me into anything. I wanted to do that to him. I still do."

Ron's mouth dropped. "You can't mean that."

Harry glared. "Check."

Ron took his wand out. "Finite Incantatum.'

Nothing happened.

Ron gapped at Harry. "No -"

"Yes."

Ron sized Harry's arm and started dragging him again. "You are going to explain things to me, understand?"

Harry sighed and nodded. What else could he do?

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Earlier
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"Can you hear anything?" whispered Hermione.

"No," Ron whispered back. "Do you think what ever it was went away?"

"I don't know. We better check."

The two friends were standing outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Once, it held a lot of interest for them, but now, it was deserted.

"Who would go there anyway?" asked Ron, as Hermione pushed open the door and came in.

Hermione shrugged.

"Well, no one here, let's go." Ron was somewhat nervous.

"Sh!" whispered Hermione. "I hear something."

Ron strained his ears and indeed there were soft rustling sounds coming from one of the cubicles.

"What do you think it is?"

Hermione's eyes sparkled. "Not 'what', WHO."

Ron's eyes widened. He grinned. "Open it."

They walked quietly to the one before last stall and pushed open the door.

There was a long silence from both parties.

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Just before
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"C'mon," said Ron enthusiastically. "We've got to find Harry."

Hermione laughed. "Calm down, we'll find him."

"I can't wait to tell him," continued Ron. "He'll flip."

Hermione nodded. "That's not something one hears every day."

"But can you imagine? Snape and ANYONE. Gross."

Hermione allowed herself a giggle. "Snape and Lockheart."

Ron stopped to consider that. "Well, it takes one to know one."

Hermione continued to giggle. "I wonder who it is, though. Since Lockheart is out of the question."

Ron grinned. "Harry'll give us his map and we'll find out."

Hermione's eyes sparkled. "Great."

She was about to turn around a corner when someone zipped past her. She took a step back and looked at whatever it was.

"What is she doing here?" asked Ron, stopping next to Hermione.

"Why is she running away from her own bathroom?" added Hermione.

"Good question," said Ron, looking in the direction of the bathroom and then at Hermione. "Let's check."

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Mere seconds before
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"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

A swallowing sound. "Damn."

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A minute earlier
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Myrtle floated hesitantly in front of the toilet stall.

It was defiantly the one she was looking for, there were noises coming from it. Her problem was that these weren't the usual noises that come from toilet stalls. She knew, she WAS alive once. Thank you for asking.

But back to the task at hand, these noises. She remembered hearing them before, she just couldn't remember where.

A groan and another strange sound.

Myrtle tried to concentrate. Where did she hear that before?

Oh!

Myrtle's face twisted into a huge grin. The prefect's bathroom! There were tons of boys doing naughty things there. She ALWAYS watched. Not being able to do it herself, she found that watching was just as, or even more, fun.

Overcome with the realization, she stuck her head through the door.

She wasn't expecting to see that.

OK, that - yes, THEM - no!

Severus Snape, PROFESSOR Snape, was sitting on the closed toilet seat. His robe was lifted above his hips, and his trousers were down around his ankles. His legs were spred to accommodate a boy who was kneeling between them. The boy's head was buried in Snape' groin. It really wasn't hard to imagine what exactly he was doing.

That was a VERY interesting sight, decided Myrtle. She really wouldn't object to seeing it again. Now, the only thing was to find out who the boy was.

Myrtle floated around the couple, hoping they wouldn't notice her.

They didn't.

Myrtle had a glimpse of the boy.

Harry Potter.

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Minutes before
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A door opened and closed.

Myrtle lifted her head.

Who came here? Nobody EVER visited her. That thing five years ago doesn't count. And even they didn't visit her anymore.

Myrtle strained her hearing. Whoever it was, they were going to pay. She'd wait until they thought they were alone and then she'd spring on them.

Well, she wanted some entertainment.

There were voices now, low murmurs.

Myrtle frowned. More than one of them, then. Even more entertaining. She continued to listen.

A door to one of the other boots opened and a moment later, closed. A rustle of clothing.

Myrtle was intrigued now. She stuck her head out of her own cubicle. There was no one there.

Where did the other one go?

A low noise came from one of the stalls.

That's it. Now she HAD to investigate.

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An irrelevant time earlier
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Myrtle floated miserably above her usual toilet seat in the last cubicle of what came to be HER bathroom.

Well, at least something was hers in this stupid place.

But she'd show them. No one's going to ignore her.

'Oh, she's dead, what do we care,' they say. 'She doesn't have feelings.'

Myrtle gave a hearty sob.

Stupid living people. She'll show them. Just like she showed Olive. They would know not to overlook her again.

The End.