Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. However, I do own my Original Characters.
A/N: The last introductory chapter. A bit of background for Myrtle, before she was the unfriendly and gloomy ghost who haunts bathrooms and indulges in mild voyeurism...
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Myrtle Elizabeth Warren had been born at precisely two minutes before midnight of 13th June 1928 in a quiet Irish village. She was the middle child of Sean and Bronwyn Finnigan-Warren. Her father was part of the village's law enforcement and her mother was a teacher in the local elementary school and one of the three children of the late famous spy and war hero Colonel Morgan Jamison Finnigan, codenamed "MJ" by his MI6 peers and superiors.
She also had grown up hearing her maternal grandfather's war stories with her older brother Keane who currently lived in Lyon with his fiancée Céleste Delacour. He would visit his family during the holidays and his sister's birthday, which was always celebrated on the 13th of June. Why?
Because she had a fraternal twin who was born two minutes after midnight on the 13th of June. Her name was Holly Victoria Warren.
Well, they had some things in common: their middle names were homages to two powerful queens, they had the same periwinkle eyes and dark brown hair. Myrtle's was straight; Holly's locks were wavy.
But the Warren twins were as different as night and day; Myrtle was the "clever twin" while Holly was the "talented twin". Myrtle was melancholic and rarely smiled, especially after Keane left the house and their grandfather's passing. She was also short-sighted and had to use thick spectacles which became a source of teasing by her sister.
Holly had perfect sight and was energetic, well-behaved – except around Myrtle –, enjoying in being the family's centre of attention. The youngest Warren also played the violin and the piano very well and had joined the local church's choir since she was five. She was the best of her class in everything except for mathematics.
On the other hand, Myrtle had a passion for reading, solving puzzles, lemon-based sweets, and bubble baths. In fact, one of her favourite hobbies was to make bubbles of soap. It was one of the few things in which she was better than her "perfect sister". She had always felt a connection with water. Holly had her music and singing voice; Myrtle was perfectly fine with just herself and her bubbles.
So, on Holly's eight birthday, Myrtle was playing alone in the bathtub full of foam and bubbles. Small droplets of water started going upwards, some spiralling, others shaping into stars, moons and even animals: a raven and a snake protecting a baby eagle from a second snake that was about to attack the small bird, which did not make any sense; reptiles and birds were natural enemies. Why would a snake behave like this?
Other questions followed: what was she doing? Was this magic? But the Bible said that witchcraft was evil! But how could something like this be evil?
One thing was certain; Holly could never find out. Her younger sister was very mean when Myrtle did something she could not. She would pull Myrtle's hair until she got bored, ignoring her twin's screams of pain. One time, she even threatened to cut off her hair with scissors before their brother entered the bedroom and admonished Holly for being a "bad sister". Days later, Myrtle woke up finding locks of her own hair scattered on the side of her bed and all of her stuffed animals slashed, bellies and limbs. She knew who was the culprit and it had saddened her a lot when her own sister refused to admit it...
Her reminiscing was cut abrupt when Holly entered without knocking as always – she only did that when Myrtle was using the bathroom, scaring her on purpose. Her twin then shouted, a cry of both surprise and fear. She quickly left the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The shapes of water fell into the tub with a sound "POP", leaving Myrtle sobbing and crying as echoes of Holly's shout "Witch!" to her from seconds before began reverberating in her mind.
For the first time in her life, she hated the fact that Holly (no, herself) existed and wished to disappear.
She lost control; the level of the water rose exponentially, overflowing and flooding the bathroom. Amidst the noise, she heard a rustling sound and looked up. The last image that her eyes registered was a pair of blurry figures with sticks, followed by a flash of pale green.
The following morning, the four members of the Warren family woke up with no recollections of the incident.
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