CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR:
ghost of you — 5 seconds of summer
( 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝟏𝟔 )
Meredith supposed that after a certain period of knowing them, one would expect that only bad things could happen to Harry Potter and all those around him.
It first began with the poisoning incident at the beginning of March where the wintery winds had finally blown away and brought the promise of a warm spring. Well, the double poisoning incident.
If all of Meredith's complaints about Romilda Vane's insanity weren't justified before, it definitely was when Ron began wandering around the dormitory proclaiming his adoring love for the girl he had never met before. As it turned out, Romilda had been trying to drug Harry but Ron had sneaked a couple of chocolates from a box meant for him. Needless to say, an angry yet proud ( "I mean, it worked, didn't it?" ) letter was written to the twins because she recognised the potion was of their own concoction.
The second poisoning was shrouded in a lot more mystery; Harry had taken the lovelorn ginger to Slughorn's for an antidote but the poor boy had accidentally drunk some poison mead meant for Slughorn himself. Thankfully, thanks to Harry's newfound prodigy in Potions, he had stuffed a bezoar into his mouth and saved Ron from a painful death. Drama between Hermione and Lavender ensured in the following days he spent in the Hospital Wing as they fought over who Ron wanted to see more.
( Meredith and Harry had perched themselves on nearby beds, snickering to themselves as they watched it all go down, resulting in Lavender storming off angrily while Hermione smiled smugly as she sat beside the dazed ginger who hadn't a clue what was happening. )
They couldn't quite figure out who would have wanted to poison Slughorn of all people, but that issue was quickly forgotten as Harry lamented about who would replace Ron on his Quidditch team for the upcoming match.
"You've gotten pretty good at Quidditch haven't you?" He asked as the pair walked down the empty hallway toward the Great Hall. Dinner had begun a good hour ago but Ron needed some company so they stayed back a while longer. Meredith laughed, "What is this about, Potter? And unless you've already forgotten, you're the one who taught me Quidditch."
"Fantastic, then could you play instead of McLaggen?" He shuddered at the thought of having the temperamental Cormac play. Cormac had cornered the Gryffindor captain hours before, insisting that he had to play since he was the next best Keeper in Gryffindor and Harry knew it. She rolled her eyes in response and punched him lightly in the shoulder, "You know, Harry, that would totally work if I was, I dunno, actually in your House."
Unfortunately, this change in roster and a delighted Cormac McLaggen had eventually lead to a series of more unfortunate happenings come the Quidditch game.
Meredith was one of the first few down on the grassy field moments after that mighty crack that reverberated through the entire pitch along with a chorus of "Oh"s and "Ouch"s from the eager spectators ( "No Quidditch game is complete without a mildly fatal injury." ) craning their necks over the stands to catch a glimpse of the Chosen One sprawled on the ground with his skull cracked wide open.
The game had been going well enough until then. Not to the majority of the crowd, but at least to Meredith. Whether it was some sort of cosmic joke or someone thought that they would get a good laugh out of it, Luna Lovegood had been chosen to commentate this particular match, and Meredith had enjoyed it wholly. She seemed particularly uninterested in the more mundane matters such as the score ( "I haven't a clue who is winning." ) and kept attempting to draw the crowd's attention to such things as interestingly shaped clouds and the possibility that Zacharias Smith, who had so far failed to maintain possession of the Quaffle for longer than a minute, was suffering from something called "Loser's Lurgy" ( her very words ).
"How's the old noggin' doing?" Meredith had asked as she sat down in the creaky chair placed beside, giving the side of Harry's head a light tap. It had been a couple of hours since then and his original group of visitors ( "No more than six visitors at a time!" Madam Pomfrey had angrily exclaimed as she shooed a startled Meredith away ) had already left. He winced, glaring up at the Slytherin, "It would be a lot better if you hadn't just whacked it."
"Toughen up, Potter." She snorted, crossing her legs as she prepared to stay here for at least the next half hour, "Besides, where's the fun in life without a few cracked skulls?"
The two chatted for a long while after that, the sun fading past the hills by the time Meredith was chased out by an infuriated Madam Pomfrey who insisted Harry needed proper rest. Talking about things that were far more light-hearted than the obvious elephant in the room; about classes ( "I swear Flitwick has it out for me this year." ), about the drama between Ginny and Dean ( he turned a little red at the mention of the redhead ), about anything but the inevitable war outside.
However, as Meredith was leaving, the doors closing behind her, she could swear that she had heard Harry ordering two voices to tail a certain blond boy and find out what he was up to.
It wasn't as if Meredith was stupid; that much was evident from her excellent schoolwork and the general ability to think on her feet. Well, she was very much the opposite of stupid.
She knew that something was going on with Draco. Although they had all changed, he had been acting especially oddly that year, prowling about in the shadows of night and disappearing at odd hours. Imagine her surprise when Meredith had found out that McGonagall had given him detention for not completing his homework.
Draco Malfoy, despite his constant refusal to admit it, was easily one of the nerdiest people she knew ( save for Hermione ) and always did the assigned work on time. Some nights, he had insisted that they finish the homework before going down to dinner. You'd usually find the boy sitting somewhere and reading some interesting book or other. But now? No one could ever tell you where he was at any given time, not even Pansy who insisted on being glued to his side—
"Oh, I haven't had a visitor in quite a while."
Her train of spiralling thoughts about Draco were interrupted by a high-pitched girly simpering voice that reminded her of Umbridge if only Umbridge were a twelve year old girl. Her voice echoed around the otherwise empty bathroom on the second floor. Meredith spun around, hand clasped onto the handle of her wand tucked into the pocket of her jacket, ready to attack whatever predator was out there.
Instead, she was faced with a young girl she didn't recognise. No, not really a young girl, but the ghost of a young girl. Maybe she could have grown up to be beautiful, but it seemed as if her entire youth, all her bitterness, all her pain and resentment had been trapped into a single moment: the moment where her short life had met its untimely end. And that had resulted in a face quite haunting and harsh.
"Who are you?" Meredith asked, hand still resting on the hilt of her wand, unsure if she was any sort of threat. What could her magic even do against a ghost? she wondered as she glared ahead, unwilling to back down. The only sound that filled the silence was the slow drip of water from the faulty sinks.
The ghost girl floated down from her perch on the window sill. She tilted her head curiously, pulling at her Hogwarts robes ( did she use to be a student here? ), quietly observing Meredith as she paused in front of her, feet barely brushing the ground. She seemed mildly surprised that Meredith didn't recognise her, but didn't show it as she cooed in a singsong voice, "I tell you my name if you tell me yours."
"Ghosts first." Meredith answered coolly, still wary of her. Her eye twitched a little at that, a semblance of annoyance creeping onto her face, as she replied, "Haven't you heard of me? They all make fun of me."
Meredith wracked her brain, unable to conjure her name. She had met the rest of the ghosts at Hogwarts, even befriended them, but she swore that she had never seen or even heard of this particular ghost, so she shook her head truthfully, "Can't make fun of you if I don't know your name, can I?"
She beamed at this, drifting close to Meredith who's hand had relaxed a little, "It's...Elizabeth. Myrtle Elizabeth Warren."
"You'd like for me to call you Elizabeth?"
"Yes. Elizabeth." Her face pulled into an even wider smile at this, as if she hadn't tasted that name on her tongue for a long while, "Everyone calls me Moaning Myrtle but that isn't very fair is it? If you were killed by...him, you'd spend your days crying about it too. I haven't cried in a long while though." Even though she didn't dare say his name, Meredith knew who she was talking about.
"That's awful," Meredith murmured, hand falling to her side completely, losing the caution she had held onto previously, "That they bully you like that for something you couldn't have controlled."
And so they talked, and talked, and talked, until the night seemed to stretch thin and Meredith was certain that she would get in trouble if Filch was to catch her on the way back to the common room.
Elizabeth told her about her long and dark tale, right from the moment that she was killed in this very bathroom by a young Tom Riddle ( that was Voldermort's name before he decided that his birth name didn't inspire enough fear ). She told a tale of helplessness, of a girl trapped in the body of a child, frozen in time forever. She told a tale of misery, of relentless bullying and jeering from her classmates when she was still alive, and the continued misery she lived in even after her death. She was simply...lonely.
Meredith had always been able to use her charms to her advantage; to manipulate people to do what she wanted, to always get her way with things. It wasn't always right to do so, but it had become so ingrained into her personality that she found it hard to avoid. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to truly empathise with someone, to simply sit down and hear their raw and broken words, to feel what they were feeling and simply understand. She couldn't fix any of Elizabeth's problems and that was alright.
"You're much nicer than everyone else." Elizabeth admitted after she had finished pouring her heart out, "Everyone else would have made fun of me." Meredith could only answer with a sad look, but she hadn't noticed and continued on, "You remind me of that boy—"
"What boy?"
"Oh," Elizabeth gasped, realising that she wasn't supposed to reveal this, "No, there's just this boy who comes here to visit me. He's the only one who's ever wanted to hear my woes and in exchange, I listen to his. Oh, that poor poor boy."
"What—"
"He's the only other one who calls me Elizabeth, you know?" She lamented, drifting off into her own memories, ignoring Meredith's attempts to ask her more, "He's sensitive, people bully him too, and he feels lonely and hasn't got anybody to talk to, and he's not afraid to show his feelings and cry! He tells me that he's never really cried in front of anyone else." She sounded slightly proud at the last bit, as if she had achieved something in being the sole person this boy confided in.
"Elizabeth—"
"Oh, he'd like you so." She crooned on, in her own world now as if Meredith wasn't there, "Maybe I shall tell him about you—"
"Who is this boy, Elizabeth?" Meredith's voice had almost risen to a shout, frustration bubbling in her throat. She had an inkling of a feeling about who it was, but she wanted to be sure.
As if finally remembering that Meredith was in fact standing a few metres from her, the ghost turned around, "No, no, I must not tell you. I promised. I promised. He'd never talk to me again! I'd never get to see him again!"
"I'd never get to see the platinum blond—" Elizabeth clapped a hand over her mouth in horror and Meredith froze, because her suspicions had been correct.
Two lonely people, two people bound by expectations and misery; two outcast and tired souls desperate for understanding and kindness from the world.
Draco Malfoy was slipping off the edge and Meredith Darling knew that she had to pull him back.
myrtle is the #1 marling shipper lol.
interrupting the regularly scheduled of my complaints about my own book to announce that i will be publishing my fred weasley fic sometime next week!
it's called 'touch the edge of the sky' & the oc is a seer so y'all already know where it's going lol. it's a very different concept from what i've done in this fic so i'm super excited to share it with you guys <3 the updates for that will be more frequent as the chapters are a lot shorter and i don't have to work around a complicated storyline like this book!
update! it's published!