Pitiful Memories (Yandere H.P Various x Reader)

(2 : 13) The Heir of Slytherin { 30 }

"You're a fraud! You've just been taking credit for what a load of other wizards have done!" said Harry incredulously.

"Has no one seriously been listening to a single thing I've said all year!?" I shouted at the reveal,

"Well, we did, but-" Harry began, but I quickly cut him off,

"Not the time, Harriet."

"Is there anything you can do?" Ron asked.

"Yes, now that you mention it. I'm rather gifted with Memory Charms. Otherwise, you see, all those wizards would've gone blabbing and I'd never have sold another book. I'm afraid I'll have to do the same to you both." Harry and I had reached our wands just in time.

Lockhart had barely raised his when I stepped forward and slammed my foot up quickly, kicking the man where his family jewels lay.

"ARGH!" Pain took over his face as he covered that area, when Harry bellowed,

"Expelliarmus!" Lockhart was blasted backwards, falling over his trunk. His wand flew high into the air; Ron caught it, and flung it out of the open window.

"Shouldn't have let Snape teach us that one," I said furiously, kicking Lockhart's trunk aside. Lockhart was looking up at me, weedy once more. We were still pointing our wands at him.

"What d'you want me to do?" said Lockhart weakly. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"You're in luck," said Harry, forcing Lockhart to his feet at wand point. "We think we know where it is. And what's inside it. Let's go."

We marched Lockhart out of his office to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. We sent Lockhart in first. I was pleased to see that he was shaking. Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the cistern of the end toilet.

"Oh, Y/n, it's you!" she said, when she saw me.

"Hi Myrtle, sorry, I've brought more people with me this time," I said pointing around to Lockhart,

"That's alright, you can bring anyone here and I wouldn't mind," She said, shyly, fiddling with her fingers and swaying her feet, "Except those MARAUDERS!" She yelled the last part, "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," I said. Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right here. In this very cubicle. I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in."

"Who was it, Myrtle?" I asked,

"I don't know! I was distraught! But they said something funny. A kind of made-up language. And I realized it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go away, and..." Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining, "I died."

"How?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great big yellow eyes. Over there..." She looked dreamily at me, pointing vaguely towards the sink in front of her toilet.

We hurried over to it. Lockhart was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face. It looked like an ordinary sink. We examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below.

"Y/n, Ron, look," Harry called. I walked over, it was a snake symbol etched into the side of the tap.

"Harry, Y/n," said Ron, "say something. Something in Parseltongue."