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Deslea R. Judd
Copyright 2002, reposted 2012
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Keywords: Truly bad and wrong femmeslash. Humour.
Spoilers: Chamber Of Secrets. Crackpot missing scene.
Summary: All Myrtle ever wanted was a little girlfriend. Fifty
years on, she finally got one.
Dedication: For rho. Because blame for something like this
really should be shared.
Disclaimer: Characters not mine. Interpretation mine.
Feedback: deslea at deslea dot com.
More fic: http://fiction.deslea.com
There was a ghost sitting on the toilet cistern in the second
floor girls' lavatory at Hogwart's.
This would not normally be cause for comment. However, on this
occasion, the ghost was not Moaning Myrtle. For this, Myrtle was
extremely Put Out. Fortunately, Myrtle was well equipped for the
occasion. She had a Put Out expression that she kept in reserve
for just such an affront. In fact, she wore it almost all of the
time. Just in case.
"Hello," she said dourly. "Who are you?"
The red-haired ghost bit her lip. "I'm Ginny. Ginny Weasley.
Didn't you see me go into the Chamber before?"
Myrtle shook her head. "I was just sitting on my U-bend,
thinking about death," she said with relish. "Why are you all -
you know, in colour?"
"I don't think I'm quite dead yet," said Ginny. "There was a
boy. He tried to kill me."
Myrtle gasped. "Those dreadful boys. One killed me, too, I
think. Really, you'd think they'd leave a girl alone in the
bathroom. But they just won't stay away."
"Is this what death is like?" Ginny said, looking around her.
"It doesn't seem so bad."
"Oh, no," said Myrtle. "It's rather good, I think. No more
classes, and no more nasty teasing girls, and you never age.
Well, there's that Granger girl - awfully strange - but she
doesn't tease. Just sits there doing her nasty spells."
Ginny frowned. "But don't you think about everything you missed
"Like what?" Myrtle enquired.
Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. Marriage. Having babies. That
sort of thing, I suppose. Grown-up stuff."
Myrtle dismissed this. "Well, I'm sure I don't know, but when I
was alive, they used to say that marriage was a terrible bore.
Did you know, your husband gets to do things with you. Naked,
even. My mother never told me exactly what, but it all sounds
rather nasty to me."
Ginny bit her lip again. Her colour was changing. She looked
quite red. Myrtle thought that was very interesting. She'd never
seen a coloured ghost before.
"Myrtle," Ginny said at last, "it's not really that bad, you
Myrtle gasped. "You've done it?"
"Well, no - not exactly. But you see, you can - do things.
Things that are like what a boy can do to you. My Mum got drunk
one night, and she said that doing it yourself is even better."
Myrtle was intrigued. "Whatever do you mean?"
Ginny looked around, frowning. Finally, she took Myrtle's hand
and tugged her into a cubicle. Myrtle noted with satisfaction
that it was the same one where she had died. Ginny closed the
door behind them and bolted it. She came around Myrtle and guided
her back against the door. Myrtle had to concentrate in order not
to fall back through it.
"Do you trust me, Myrtle?"
Myrtle frowned, but she nodded. And then, to her utter surprise,
Ginny was pulling up her skirt!
"Ginny, whatever are you doing?"
"Just trust me. It feels nice. There's a spot. It's got a funny
name. I saw it in a textbook once." Myrtle's frown deepened as
Ginny fiddled with her underpants. She wondered if Ginny was
playing a nasty trick on her, like that horrible Olive Hornby who
used to tease her about her glasses. But oh, how Olive had
Why, where HAD that feeling come from? Myrtle stared at Ginny.
Ginny had a mischievous look on her face.
"Feels good, doesn't it?"
"It's like - like -"
Myrtle was at a loss for a simile.
"Does it always feel like that?" she asked at last.
"I think so," Ginny said. She frowned. Rather like she was
explaining a difficult spell. "You can make it...change...by
touching it different ways."
Myrtle had never heard of such magic. "Change how?"
"It builds, sort of. Like it gets tighter. And higher. And then
it lets go. It's amazing."
"Can you show me?" she said eagerly.
Ginny pushed Myrtle against the door and put her hand in
Myrtle's pants again. Myrtle grabbed onto Ginny for support, and
she held on tighter still when Ginny's hand began to move. She
felt even more ethereal than normal. As though she was melting
from the center outwards. She gave a high-pitched wail of
"Oh, Ginny!" she moaned. "That's so good!"
She closed her eyes, and she sighed when the tightness let go.
Myrtle was smiling as the vibrations subsided. "Ginny," she
said, opening her eyes, "I had no idea-"
But Ginny was gone.
Myrtle was sitting on the cistern, playing with threads on her
robes and smiling when she heard voices coming from under the
basin. "I suppose they'll expect me to call it the Chamber of
Secrets now," she muttered. "Well, I don't think so. This is
my bathroom." She rose up to tell them so. And then she
It was Ron and Harry and that silly man Lockhart - and Ginny.
"You're alive," she said at last.
"There's no need to sound so disappointed," sniffed Harry. Of
course, he would assume Myrtle meant him.
Ginny was looking at her. Stricken.
"Oh, well," she said over his shoulder, "I'd just been thinking.
If you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet." She
Tears streamed down Ginny's cheeks when Ron and Harry led her