❝ I feel like I'm going mad. ❞
❝ Welcome to the club. ❞
「 Liliana Granger knew chaos like the back of her hand.
It confronted her, challenging her to find calm wherever she could.
But some days...
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❝ It's rude to add salt to an open wound. ❞
⋅☾☼☽⋅
HERMIONE REMAINED IN the hospital wing for several weeks.
It was a dull time for Liliana. She missed her sister loads. Up until the new term started, she spent as much time as she could with Hermione in the hospital wing. Some days they would read, others they played games, but most days they talked for hours, to the point that Madam Pomfrey would have to kick Liliana out so that Hermione could sleep.
When the new term did start up, Liliana was limited to evening visits — her peers and their concern (but really nosiness) about Hermione's disappearance could be thanked for that one. Harry and Ron accompanied her most nights and would do homework with her and Hermione and conspire about the Chamber and whatever else came to mind.
One evening, on their way to visit Hermione, an angry outburst stopped them in their tracks.
"— even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore —"
It was Filch, and it sounded like he was on the floor above them. The trio shared small looks and, without a second thought, rushed up the staircase, and hid in an alcove at the top. A distant door slammed and the noise signaled to them the coast was clear.
They poked their heads around the corner. It was clear that Filch had been manning his usual lookout post: once again they were on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. At a glance they saw what Filch had been shouting about.
A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked to be seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.
"Now what's up with her?" Ron said.
"Let's go and see," Liliana said, and holding her robes over her ankles she stepped through the great wash of water toward the door bearing its OUT OF ORDER SIGN, and entered.
It was dark in the bathroom; all the candles had been extinguished from the great rush of water that had passed through. Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down in her usual toilet, so Liliana waded across to her secluded stall.
"Are you OK, Myrtle?" she asked, as Harry and Ron appeared behind her.
"Who's that?" Myrtle glugged miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"
"Why would we throw something at you?" Harry said, brows furrowed.
"Don't ask me!" Myrtle shouted, emerging from the stall with a wave of more tears. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me. . . ."
