Cruelty and the Beast

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Three: At Peril’s Imminence

Myrtle remained locked in her bathroom stall for hours, sobbing uncontrollably. Her hair was a tangled mess, and there was a trail of snot running down her robes. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks puffed and pink as she sat quivering on the toilet.

How could she have been so utterly stupid? Of course Tom Riddle would reject her; anyone in his right mind would! No boy had ever been interested in her. What in the world had made her think that gorgeous and brilliant Tom Riddle, of all the boys in the castle, would ever even consider talking to her?

A fresh stream of tears escaped Myrtle’s puffy eyes. She wiped her nose with her sleeve as she wailed. And now Tom knew how she felt about him. How would she ever be able to face him now? And as if it wasn’t already mortifying enough, even Olive Hornby and all her friends knew! They would never live this down! They would tease her about her crush for the rest of her time at Hogwarts.

Myrtle sniffed. Oh, how she hated that Olive Hornby! She had been making her life intolerable ever since her first day at Hogwarts. Myrtle despised her entirely; her entire body shook with loathing as she thought about that horrid wench. Worst of all was the fact that everybody else seemed to like her. Olive had many friends, good looks, perfect grades, and a handful of admirers; Myrtle, on the other hand, was plain and pimply, had to work so hard to receive mediocre marks at best, and had no companion other than Fiona.

Her abrupt burst of anger toward Olive quickly transpired into self-loathing. Nobody likes me, she thought, they all hate me. They all make fun of poor, ugly, stupid Muggle-born Myrtle.

Myrtle let out another resounding wail, her sharp cry bouncing off the dim chamber walls. A few more hours passed lugubriously...

She heard the door open and suddenly stopped wailing. “Who is it?” she called. Half a dozen students had already attempted to use the loo, and had evidently changed their minds immediately at the sound of Myrtle’s loud, echoing sobs. Nobody had bothered to enter the toilets since then.

“Myrtle! There you are!”

Myrtle resumed sobbing at the sound of Fiona’s voice. “Get away!” she moaned. “Just let me be!”

She heard Fiona’s footsteps draw closer, and within moments she was standing outside her stall. “Don’t be foolish,” Fiona responded. “Come out, Myrtle, this is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” shrieked Myrtle. “How would you know? It was the most mortifying thing that has ever happened to me! Olive will never let it down. I am not coming out.”

“Olive has detention for a week for what she did!” Fiona exclaimed. “She won’t say anything, Professor Dippet won’t let her. So come out!”

“No! So what if she doesn’t say anything? Everybody else will tease me! They were all there! Forget it, I am never coming out. I’ll write to mum tonight and tell her I’m coming home.”

Fiona sounded exasperated. “Come out, Myrtle. I mean it. Edward and I are going to have dinner in the Gryffindor common room, and you should come with us. Professor Dippet gave us permission so that nobody will bother you there. We can get back to our dormitory before dinnertime is over, and by the time you wake up tomorrow this whole thing will have blown over!”

Myrtle was still unconvinced. “It will never blow over,” she bawled. “And besides – how will I ever face Tom now? He knows I fancy him. I should have never listened to you! What a stupid idea it was to tell him that I like him!”

She blew her nose loudly, again wiping it with her now slimy robes. “You don’t have to face Tom again, you rarely see him around the castle anyway!” Fiona snapped, frustrated. “Besides, he is a jerk if he let Olive insult you like that without doing anything. Isn’t he a prefect? He just stood there and did nothing; he should have his badge taken!”

Myrtle didn’t respond. “Now come on Myrtle, please. Let’s just go get dinner and we can worry about this tomorrow.”

“No, you go. I’m staying,” Myrtle responded firmly.

Fiona sighed. “Fine. If I can’t convince you, then... I will just see you tomorrow... But we are definitely not done talking about this.” She turned and left.

Perhaps if Myrtle had been aware then that this would be the last time she would ever talk to her friend again, she would have complied.

*

It was nearly ten-thirty. Myrtle’s stomach was growling. “I should have listened to Fiona,” she muttered to herself. “I’m starving...should’ve at least asked her to bring up a sandwich or some crisps...”

She knew she looked awful. Dried snot covered the entire front of her robes as well as her sleeve. Her eyes were still puffy and red, but she had stopped sobbing for now. “It’ll be a miracle if I can manage to sneak up to the castle without anyone noticing me,” she grumbled.

The more she thought about it, the more she wished she had listened to her friend. Nobody would have seen her if she had simply followed her up to the Gryffindor common room, and she would have gotten a chance to get some food. She hadn’t eaten lunch today either, and her stomach was churning loudly. Worst of all, dinner was over and even if she managed to sneak into the Great Hall there would be no food left.
Her stomach growled again. Perhaps she had a few liquorice wands or some chocolate cauldrons stashed away in her dormitory?

Myrtle was about to gather her things to leave, when she heard footsteps coming from outside her stall. “Fiona!” she exclaimed, delighted. “I didn’t even hear the door open! I was just going to come upstairs, do you have anything to ea –“

She suddenly froze. It wasn’t Fiona’s footsteps she was hearing. Somebody else was in there, whispering something in a strange, unfamiliar language...The words sounded eerie and haunting, kind of like a hissing sound...Most peculiar of all was the voice of the person who was muttering the strange words. It was a boy.

“Hello?” she called, suddenly terrified. “Is somebody in here?”

There was no response.

Myrtle felt a dreadful chill crawling up her spine. The room seemed suddenly darker and quieter than it had seemed before. Her hairs were standing erect over her arms. She stood still.

“Hello?” she called again. “If – if this is a boy – you shouldn’t be in here...”

But there was still no response. Perhaps she had simply imagined she had heard voices, Myrtle concluded. After all, she was extremely hungry – maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.

Slightly comforted, Myrtle grabbed her things and unlocked the door. She would dart to her common room, she decided, just in case...

But she had no chance to run, for the moment she opened the stall door, her bag fell to the floor and her entire body froze in shock. She stood motionless with her eyes and jaws wide open in horror, gazing at the figure standing in front of her.