𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 ☆ 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑦𝑛 𝑃𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝑌𝐸𝐴𝑅 𝑇𝑊𝑂 ☆ 12

Hermione was getting better. Rosalyn had been bringing her the schoolwork that they'd been doing, even though she knew no one else would ask for it, and Ron and Harry were visiting her as much as they could as well.

That day, all four of them were in the wing together and Hermione was determinedly scribbling down some notes that Rosalyn had copied for her.

"If I sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work." Ron said unhelpfully. Rosalyn and Hermione rolled their eyes.

"I've got to keep up, Ron!"

"Yeah, I would, if it were-"

"Anyway," Harry interrupted. "Have any of you got any new leads?" They knew what he meant, they were all trying to find out who the heir of Slytherin was.

"None," Rosalyn sighed.

"I really did think it was Malfoy," Ron said sadly.

Rosalyn sighed and rested her shoulder with her chin on it on Hermione's pillow, but it made an unusual noise.

"What's that?" Ron had heard it too, and he swiped his hand underneath Hermione's pillow, a very red Hermione.

"It's nothing-"

But it clearly was something. A get well card from a certain arrogant, stupid, incompetent Professor. Ron read aloud.

"Dear Miss Granger, I wish you a very speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honourary member of the dark force- yada yada yada, anyway, you sleep with this under your pillow?"

Hermione, who had gone even redder, was spared from answering because, just then, Madam Pomfrey came in and shooed them away, saying Hermione needed rest, or whatever.

The three of them walked out of the hospital wing as Ron said. "Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met or what?'

Rosalyn laughed as they came out onto the same corridor that Mrs Norris was petrified on, and the same one Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was on. And now it was covered in a thin layer of water.

"Yuck!"

"Looks like Moaning Myrtle's flooded the bathroom," Rosalyn guessed.

And yes, when the three of them entered the bathroom moments later, all the sinks were flooded and Myrtle was sitting up near the window, sobbing loudly.

"Come to throw something else at me?"

"Why would I throw something at you?" Rosalyn asked.

"Don't ask me, here I am, minding my own business and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me."

"But if can't hurt if someone throws something at you," Rosalyn gave Ron a stop-talking-now look, but he seemed to misplace it. "I mean, it'll just go straight through you."

That set her off, she quickly swooped down from the window to being face to face with Ron.

"Sure! Let's all throw books at Myrtle because she can't feel it! Ten points if it goes through her stomach!" She threw her hand through Ron's stomach. "Fifty points if it goes through her HEAD!"

She punctuated that with a blow to the head, and Ron looked terrified, Rosalyn couldn't blame him, angry Myrtle was pretty frightening.

"But who threw it at you anyway?" Harry changed the sore subject.

"I don't know, I was just sitting in the U-bend thinking about death, and then it... it fell straight through my head."

She cried and cried some more, then floated away, wailing, Rosalyn covered her ears, but then she noticed something on the ground. A black book, it must be the one that was hurled at Myrtle.