Fred and George and the Toilers of Trouble (Year 1) ✔

Chapter 21:4

Fred and George scrambled to find the best means of escape. They checked the Marauder's Map uncertainly, realizing at once that the Care of Magical Creatures professor could move more rapidly than anticipated. His automated appendages were quite deceptive, giving him the ability to run at double the speed and to change directions in a flash. After skipping hallways through several passages, they reached the first floor corridor with Kettleburn still on their tail. The only option was to hide in the girls' bathroom.

The tile-skinned room was so flooded, the twins had to steady one another as they rushed inside. Foul smelling sink water was nearly to their ankles, pouring freely from the faucets. They were quick to find the ghost in the corner. She was wailing wretchedly into her hands.

"Myrtle, can we hide in here?" asked Fred desperately.

"Do what you want!" she sobbed, tears streaming down her silvery face. "No one cares what I think...or how I FEEL!"

The instant Fred and George leapt into the last cubicle and climbed onto the toilet seat, Professor Kettleburn barged through the door, his entire body smoking. He staggered through the water and knelt to scan the sopping floor for wayward legs. Seeing the professor invading her domain, Moaning Myrtle sailed across the room and twisted one of the faucets so it squirted him. The twins could hear the many fastenings and levers sizzling on his chest plate.

"Cut that out!"

"Cut what out, intruder?!"

With his eyes low, he mopped his face dry, scuttled forward, and switched off the faucet. "Did two boys come in here?"

The ghost hovered in place, staring. "Still can't look at me, can you? I haven't changed you know..." she said, stifling a fit of giggles. "Although you have...quite a bit!"

"Myrtle just — answer me, please."

"Yes. They've gone. You can stay, if you so choose, but there aren't many comfortable places to sit for a man in your...condition..."

Kettleburn snarled at her and shuffled out of the room, leaving behind a wake in the shallow water that rippled beneath their feet.

"You can come out now!" Myrtle sang, as the twins stepped cautiously from the stall. She glanced into the mirror, adjusted her thick glasses, and chuckled at them. "Back to fix the toilets?"

"No, Myrtle."

"But could we ask you a question?"

She sniffed and nodded brightly.

"You were a student here, weren't you?"

"Well, I didn't steal this robe...if you plan on accusing me of theft! I earned it. Got my letter and everything. Mother was very proud," she said dreamily, rocking in place. Then her expression soured. "Yes, I was a student here...before I was killed!"

They winced and waved their hands to shush her, but it was a failed attempt. If there was one thing they knew about Moaning Myrtle, it was that she couldn't be silenced.

"It happened in this very room. I was here with a friend of mine. She survived...while I died a terrible, awful death!"

"We're sorry, Myrtle."

"George and I met your elf, actually. She works in the kitchens."

"My what?" she responded, looking utterly bewildered.

"Your house-elf. Polly Anne," said George.

"Well, the second Polly Anne," Fred corrected.

"Oh, her," the ghost said with a muffled sigh. "Yes...well...Polly Anne the Second was sent here to keep me safe, but she cared more about dusting the dormitory!" Myrtle wailed. "And folding my clothes!" Myrtle howled. "Lot of good she did!"

"Keep it down, will you?"

"Or he'll never leave the corridor, and we'll be stuck in here forever."

"Are you staying?" she said delightedly. "You can sleep here if you'd like." Moaning Myrtle swooped in close to George. "No one bothers to use this room anymore. They avoid it because of my COMPLAINING!"

Blinking, the twins looked at her uncertainly.

"Thanks, but we'll have to decline, I'm afraid," said Fred, as she hovered back to the sinks.

"My dear Polly Anne. I'd forgotten about her," Myrtle whined. "Sweet house-elf...droned on and on. And they say I moan."

"What else do you remember?" asked George. "Can you recall a witch named Aruzula Darc?"

"Yes, we were friends here at Hogwarts. Not very close friends, though," Myrtle replied, suddenly wary of her own memories. "Aruzula never cared much to hear my opinion on things. She had close friends. Like that great lump, Rubeus Hagrid. Oh — and the boy from Slug Club." An impish grin broke across her face. Her cheeks grew more opaque, surprising the twins. They never imagined that a ghost could blush. "He fancied her, yes, he did."

"So, this Slug Club... What can you tell us about it?"

"There weren't many of us. Only a few exceptional students, according to Professor Slughorn. One became a teacher and never left...knows all sorts of secrets."

"Who?" asked Fred, taking a step toward her.

"I'm not telling."

"Please?" George begged.

Delighting in seeing boys so desperate, Myrtle used it to her advantage. "I will if you promise to come ba-ack..."

"Fine."

"Just tell us who it is."

"All right..."

Before she could answer, and before the twins had time to cover their faces, a geyser of water rocked the room and Peeves burst in through the floor.

"Myrtle, Myrtle! Moaning Myrtle!" he cackled jovially, cartwheeling right through her. "Weeping, crying, withering, dying. Everyone hates your pimply face." He dipped his arms into the water and spun them like propellers, splashing her incessantly.

"Peeves! I hate you!" she screeched, bursting into tears before diving headlong into an empty sink drain.

He couldn't have been prouder. Peeves danced to a tune only he could hear until he noticed the twins, drenched and looking cross.

"Did you really have to send her away?"

"We were doing something important, Peeves!"

The poltergeist stopped his spontaneous performance and looked surprisingly remorseful. "Apologies, fellow misfits. I would never have done so, had I known you were terrifying her yourselves. Good day."

He launched himself through the ceiling a moment later, leaving the twins alone and sopping wet in the middle of the girls' bathroom, still without answers.

"Peeves...polite...?" George muttered.

"Never thought I'd see the day," said Fred.

Their disbelief over the poltergeist's unusual thoughtfulness caused the twins to completely forget why they had been hiding in the first place. With their guard down, they entered the corridor, unaware of the severed metal fist that was rocketing toward their faces. It hammered the wall directly in front of them, lodging deep into the stone and stopping the boys flat.