As one of the permanent residents of Hogwarts, Moaning Myrtle was an incredibly well-known ghost.
Before her death, she had been a Hogwarts student, so she always wore her school uniform, maintaining the appearance of a short and chubby student.
She wasn't much to look at, her face was covered in acne, she wore thick glasses, and her hair was long and straight.
If there were a Harry Potter-related game, players would probably transform into Moaning Myrtle automatically by pressing "F."
Beyond her appearance, she was also the least liked ghost in Hogwarts, second only to Peeves the Poltergeist.
She had occupied a girls' bathroom for years, turning it into such an undesirable spot that no one dared go near it, it had been abandoned for as long as anyone could remember.
Hermione's suggestion was excellent: they could place the rotten food in the sink of that bathroom.
After all, no one would go there. And if someone did, they were either planning to do something shady or were already up to no good.
Hermione presented this idea to Moaning Myrtle.
"That's my domain! You're not allowed to put that food there!" Moaning Myrtle protested loudly.
She spoke with a sob in her voice. "I have feelings too, you know, even though I'm dead."
"No one wants to upset you, Myrtle," Hermione said kindly. "It's just a bit of food—"
"No one wants to upset me? That's a joke!" Myrtle wailed. "My life here has no joy, only sorrow.
"Now I'm dead, and you're still tormenting me by putting rotting food in my bathroom? Have you no decency?"
"..."
"But Myrtle, you're also attending the Deathday Party. This food was prepared for you ghosts anyway. Think of it as getting a sneak taste," Annie tried to comfort her. "Better than leftovers, right?"
"Hmm… that makes sense." Myrtle blinked and let out a mournful sob. "I'll agree… but…"
She shifted her gaze to William and, from behind her thick glasses, gave him a sly wink.
"I need a dance partner."
"Uh… what?" Hermione's eyes widened.
"It's a Deathday Party," Myrtle floated mid-air. "When I was alive, I never attended a party. Having a dance partner would make me much happier.
"William, you're perfect. You're just my type."
Myrtle drifted to William's side, pressing herself closer to him.
"No way!" Hermione objected immediately. "You're already dead! What do you need a dance partner for?"
"Elegance… for refined living! Attending a party with a partner, it's essential. Even though I'm dead, I still need a sense of ritual!"
Hermione and Annie exchanged glances, huddled together to whisper, and quickly formed a united front.
—They couldn't agree to Myrtle's outrageous request.
"I can introduce you to my two good friends, Harry and Ron. You can pick either one!" Hermione smiled sweetly.
"My classmate Colin takes photos. You can have him as your date. After the banquet, he can even take pictures of you in your bathroom!" Annie suggested.
William sat quietly nearby, feeling quite pleased. That's right—better them than him!
There was no way William would attend a Deathday Party—never in this lifetime. Let alone be Myrtle's dance partner.
"Am I not pretty, William?"
Tears began streaming rapidly from Myrtle's transparent eyes.
"...If you miss this chance, there won't be another," Myrtle said stubbornly.
"I heard that Charles I and Louis XVI will be attending… Don't you want to meet them?"
Wait…
Who?!
William's emerald-green eyes lit up. If that were the case, attending the Deathday Party didn't seem so bad…
"Aren't they the ones who were sent to the guillotine?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
"Exactly, which is why they're ghosts attending a Deathday Party," Myrtle replied with a look that screamed Hermione, how can you be this dense?
"Where do they usually stay?" Annie asked curiously.
She had never seen ghosts anywhere but at Hogwarts.
"Charles I wanders around Buckingham Palace. He's the founder of the Headless Hunt.
"As for Louis XVI… I'm not sure."
"He's the ghost of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic," William suddenly chimed in. "I heard it from a friend."
"Another friend from Beauxbatons…" Hermione squinted at William.
"So… are you coming?" Myrtle asked, holding her breath.
"He has to attend the Hogwarts Halloween Feast with us! He can't be your dance partner!" Hermione declared firmly.
Annie nodded. "My brother won't go!"
Well, that settled it.
Farewell,
My dear Louis XVI.
William had been hoping to chat with him about the French Revolution, and maybe tell a few French jokes.
Myrtle's tears streamed down her face like a waterfall.
William sincerely suggested, "You could ask Cedric. He'd probably agree to be your partner. He's always liked you, you know."
"Really?" Myrtle asked, surprised and delighted.
"Of course! Just tell him that Mr. Ollivander's grandfather will be attending too," William said with a grin.
Myrtle blinked and drifted through the wall to go find Cedric in the Hufflepuff common room.
The three of them quickly packed the rotten food into a large box and prepared to move it to Myrtle's bathroom.
"Thank you all so much." The house-elf named Vinny bowed deeply to them.
The house-elves couldn't stand it when the kitchen was unclean.
"Since I've helped you all, I need you to answer a question honestly," William said.
"House-elves never lie to wizards!" Vinny said excitedly.
"Do you know a house-elf named Dobby?"
"Dobby… I know him!" A small elf in a dress spoke timidly.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Dotty," the house-elf replied nervously. "Did Dobby do something wrong?"
"No, I'm just curious. Whose house-elf is Dobby? A friend of mine really likes him."
"He belongs to the Malfoy family. Dobby's family has served them for generations," Dotty said fearfully.
William and Hermione exchanged glances—Harry had been right. Dobby really was the Malfoys' house-elf.
Harry and Malfoy seemed connected in strange ways.
The three of them left the kitchen, crossed the corridor, and arrived at Myrtle's bathroom.
It was William's first time in the girls' bathroom. He double-checked the map several times to make sure no one was around before following Hermione and Annie inside.
The bathroom had been abandoned for so long that the conditions were terrible.
Below a cracked, grimy mirror was a row of stone sinks, their surfaces chipped and weathered.
The floor was damp, reflecting the dim glow of melted candle stubs in their holders. The stall doors were scratched and peeling; one of the doors hung crookedly, barely attached to its hinge.
It was the perfect place to film a horror movie.
"We can dump the food in the sink," Hermione suggested.
"Hey, there's a little snake here," Annie said curiously, noticing a snake engraving on the side of one of the bronze taps.
However, the faucet was broken, no water came out anymore.
After opening the box, Annie dumped its contents into the sink. The maggots on the stuffed sheep's stomach immediately began crawling over the tap.
It was disgusting… but it didn't matter as no one used that faucet anyway.
The three of them quickly bolted, not wanting to stay even a second longer.
"I wonder whether Dobby was ordered by Malfoy to stop Harry, or if he truly knows something," William pondered aloud as they walked.
"He was probably the one who stopped Harry and Ron from entering the platform," William continued.
He waited for Hermione's response, but instead, she asked, "Is that Beauxbatons student, Fleur… really that beautiful?"
William grimaced and played dumb, refusing to answer.
Some questions were a trap, one wrong word could doom you.
If he joked that he was face-blind and couldn't tell who was beautiful, he'd probably be stabbed thirty-six times.
Annie made a goofy face, clearly enjoying the drama. "Big brother, if you stay silent, you're admitting it!"
William took a deep breath. Whose side was his sister even on?
He felt a strong urge to scold her.
Instead, he smiled gently and said, "I still think Hermione's prettier."
Hermione's lips curved upward, and she gently wrapped her arm around his. They strolled down the corridor together.
The cool breeze whispered by.
It was the perfect time for a moonlit walk.