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by Chaos Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Comedy · #1860639

Harry finds a book with the power to control hogwarts.

This choice: As a second experiment, he wrote that Myrtle was alive, once more.  •  Go Back...
Chapter #5

He wrote that Myrtle was at peace.

    by: Mr. George Author IconMail Icon
Unsure whether this was a prank without checking out the new Ms. Malfoy in person, Harry wasn't convinced all the promises were real. As he felt the icy touch of a spectral hand pressing on his shoulder.

For all her attempts to keep from passing through anybody, her fingers still sank a little into Harry's flesh. Turning he saw the far wall, through her ghostly face.

"Is... Is there anything you'd have different here?" Harry asked.

Myrtle floated back slightly in her distraction. "I'd like to be at peace." They were both surprised with the speed of her answer. Harry understood, her pale shadow of an existence. A regret Nick had shared with him. But, it felt too much like killing her.

He stuck to the simple, "Are you sure?"

She nodded, "Yes, please." The sincerity and weight of her answer clear despite its' brevity and speed.

The silence was brief, but still felt like it was dragging. Myrtle quietly added, "I've served my purpose... You learnt the truth about...." She gestured around the cavern. "Haven't I earned my peace."

"Wh... What is your second name, Myrtle?" He asked cautiously. He couldn't write it out as Moaning Myrtle, that just felt too rude, especially as a final rememberance.

"It's Myrtle Elizabeth Warren."

She spotted Harry was looking intently at her. The significance of what she was asking clearly a heavy burden. Her own face took on a different cast. She lost the hint of self-pity, the whiny air. She looked like she was already at peace, and settled to moving on. She gave him, a brief nod of assent.

Myrtle Elizabeth Warren is at peace.

The book seemed to buck and thrash in his hands. It writhed as is alive, in contrast Myrtle merely had her eyes closed ready for her eternal rest.
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