Ch 58 – Moaning Myrtle
"Oh, no," Hermione said, stopping abruptly, "Turn back, turn back!" She said in a hurried whisper, "I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle-"
"Who?" Harry asked as they all backtracked quickly and quietly.
"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the first floor," Hermione informed them.
"She haunts a toilet?" Ron asked in near shock.
“That's freaking cool, now I really want to see her!” said Lucifer dragging a very reluctant Hermione with him.
"Yes, it's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to use the loo with her wailing at you-"
“Come on!” said Lucifer cheerfully, ignoring Hermione's non-stop dissing about Myrtle being a problem.
“Malfoy, could probably share with he-”
"Look, food!" Ron yelled, cutting Hermione's momentum off.
On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet.
As they approached it, eager to get some food in their bellies, they stopped in their tracks, utterly horrified at what they saw.
The smell was also quite disgusting, but the sight of the food made them all turn away.
Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal-black, were heaped on salvers.
There was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in fuzzy green mold and, in pride of place, an enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words.
Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington Died 31st October, 1492
Lucifer was amused when they saw a portly ghost approach the table, crouched low, and walked through all of the food, his mouth held wide so that it passed through as much food as he could reach.
"Are you able to taste it if you walk through it?" Harry had asked him.
"Almost," the ghost said with a depressing sigh, drifting away slowly.
"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavor," Hermione said knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis.
Lucifer was actually brave enough to try and get a whiff of it again, and to his complete shock, it only smelled mildly vomit-inducing.
While he was busy doing that, Hermione's stomach rumbled as if complementing his actions.
“What...do you want some?” he asked, frowning at Hermione's face, which now seems to be going red with utter shame, “N-no...I don't want to eat that....” she responded, not daring to look him in the eyes again.
"Can we move?" Ron asked, holding fingers up to his mouth, "I feel sick..."
They had barely turned to move away from the table when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in midair before them. "Hello, Peeves," Harry said cautiously.
Unlike the other ghosts, Peeves the Poltergeist was their polar opposite in terms of color.
He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow- tie, and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face.
“Nibbles?" He asked sweetly, offering them fungus covered peanuts.
"No thanks” Hermione said in a droll tone.
“Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," he said, his eyes dancing dangerously, "Rude you was about poor Myrtle." His grin widened even further as he took a deep breath and bellowed, "OH MYRTLE! MYRTLE!"
"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset," Hermione whispered frantically, but the Poltergeist didn't seem to hear her, "I didn't mean it, I don't mind her - er, hello, Myrtle."
The squat ghost of a girl had glided over.
She had the gloomiest, saddest face Harry had ever seen. Half of it was hidden behind lank hair and thick, pearly spectacles, "What?" She asked sulkily.
"How are you, Myrtle?" Hermione said in a falsely bright voice, "It's nice to see you out of the toilet."
All Myrtle did was sniffle, "Miss Granger here was just talking about you..." Peeves said slyly in her ear.
"Just saying-saying-how nice you look tonight," Hermione said, glaring over at Peeves.
"You're making fun of me," Myrtle said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes.
"Of course not," Lucifer said, surprising all four of them.
Myrtle was even more surprised, though, to hear him speaking in an American accent, “I was honestly just thinking to myself how lovely you look this evening, and I mean everything I say," he said in an effort to cheer her up.
It worked, maybe too well, as Myrtle suddenly glided up in front of him, "You don't sound like everyone else," Myrtle said in a normal voice, “what's your name?”
“Lucifer Morningstar, is it rude to ask where you were from before you died?" He asked, really curious to know about her origin.
"I was born in... in..." she seemed to be having a hard time remembering, "I believe it was Wessex? That sounds right." She seemed oddly bashful all of a sudden.
"Well it was very nice talking with you, Myrtle, but we have to go and acquaint ourselves with the other ghosts, okay?" He said with a smile.
"Okay," she said and because her back was to the others, only he saw her wink.
Lucifer smiled at her, She floated away, seemingly in a blissful mood.
Hermione noticed his pink tinged cheeks, even in the dim light from the candles, "What did she do?" she interrogated with a jealous tone.
"She just winked at me... so I smiled back, trying to be nice...” he said, looking at her.
"It doesn't always pay to be nice...” Hermione said, with a frown, ready to exorcise the foul ghost, using her wand.
"Enjoying yourselves?" Nick asked as he drifted toward them through the crowd.
"Yes!"
"Definitely”
“You think she's lovely do you?' Hermione whispered, ignoring Nick engaged in conversation with Ron and Harry.
Lucifer could have sworn he'd heard a hint of jealousy in her voice underneath the teasing note.
“Don't worry,” he said, wrapping an arm around her, “No one in this room is more stunning than you, that's why I chose you to be my date.”
“D-d-date?” Hermione stammered turning bright red and looking up at him, Lucifer smirked down at her as she did.
“Not a bad turnout," he said proudly, "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent... It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go warn the orchestra..."
She was saved from creating a response however as the orchestra stopped.
Lucifer took his eyes off her and looked over towards them, which gave her a few moments to fan her face and try to regather herself.
Thinking, it was a good idea to come here, except Myrtle of course.
After gathering her thoughts, Hermione turned on Lucifer with arms crossed over her chest, "You do realise she's like, 64, or something like that, and you're.... right!?" She said angrily, not happy with him.
"So?" he said confused, not seeing her point. Hermione's nose scrunched in anger, and scowled at him, looking down at his neck.
Now that orchestra, and everyone else in the dungeon fell silent, looking around in excitement as a hunting horn sounded off, getting closer and closer.
"Oh... here we go..." Nick said bitterly.
Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen or so ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman.
The assembly clapped wildly.
Lucifer was clapping modestly at the display. He looked over and saw Nick's face, it was an unpleasant look.
The Horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging.
At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn.
The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high into the air so he could see over the crowd, which caused everyone to laugh, and he strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck, "Nick!"
He roared jovially, "How are you? Head still hanging in there?" He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nick on the shoulder.
Lucifer had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing audibly enough where Nick could hear him.
"Welcome, Patrick," Nick said stiffly.
"Live 'uns!" Sir Patrick said, spotting Harry, Ron, Lucifer and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again, causing the crowd to howl with laughter.
"Very amusing," Nick said darkly.
"Don't mind Nick!" Shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor, "He's still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say - look at the fellow!"
"I think," Harry said abruptly, causing them to look at him, "Nick's very - frightening and -er-"
"Ha!" Sir Patrick yelled, "Bet he asked you to say that, didn't he?"
"If I could have everyone's attention it's time for my speech!" Nick yelled, striding towards the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight.
"Let's go," Hermione said, "my stomach is grumbling at something awful. If we hurry, we can get some dessert before it's all gone!"
She grabbed Lucifer's hand with her own, and marched towards the exit.
__________
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