𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐀 | Unveiling, uncovering. The Greek notion of truth.
Esmerelda knew everything was going to change the second her super nice foster father suddenly turned into a snake monster and tried to eat her. She just never expected for all of...
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▬▬▬ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE ▬▬▬
ESMERELDA NEVER THOUGHT THAT MOANING Myrtle would ever sought her out for anything. While the ghosts were very much intrigued with her creepy necromancy ability, Moaning Myrtle never bothered to show any interest (except for that one day where they all confronted her). She usually just stayed in her toilet and moped to herself.
But not today.
Esmerelda was simply just walking to her common room after a busy day of classes when Moaning Myrtle came bursting through the walls, looking frustrated and close to tears.
"There you are!" She cried out. "I've been looking everywhere for you! You're helping me now!"
Esmerelda looked sullenly at the stack of barrels where her common room laid behind.
So close yet so far, she thought. "What's wrong Myrtle?"
"Follow me!" She ordered, then flew through the wall.
Esmerelda stared blankly at where she once floated.
Moaning Myrtle came back, looking a bit sheepish. "Right. You're alive." She started leading her down a bunch of hallways until they finally reached the girls bathroom. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to be exact. According to her, she had died here after seeing a pair of large eyes. It made Esmerelda seriously worry about Hogwarts' security.
"Is it your toilet? Because I'm not a plumber," she told her.
"My toilet's not the problem! It's those dreadful third year girls!" She fumed, floating around the air as one would pace.
"What do you mean?" She asked.
Moaning Myrtle let out a noise that sounded very much like an angry snarl. Esmerelda was slightly impressed. She sounded like a harpy who just stumbled upon a demigod who wasn't following the rules for curfew.
"Every. Day!" She barked. "These putrid girls would go inside my bathroom and throw things at me!"
"What?" Esmerelda's jaw dropped. Whoever those girls were needed a new hobby. Antagonizing a ghost? How childish could one be? "That's really mean of them..."
"Isn't it?!" Myrtle agreed hysterically. "You can't believing how sick I am of them! Every day they come in here, giggling and calling out my name, throwing books, quills—even pads!"
Esmerelda gagged. "That's so gross. They're not used are they?"
"No," Myrtle replied, making her sigh in relief. "Not like they'd care though. I'm a ghost, I can't feel anything, wah!" She mocked.
"Did you take me here so I can tell them to stop?" She asked. "'Cause I'll do that. Heck, I'll even tell their house head for you—unless their Slytherin's because Snape's just going to let it go... And give those girls points..."
