Chapter 4 : Chapter 4: Those Cursed Dead
| ||Rating: 12+||Chapter Reviews: 1|
Background: Font color:
Voldemort went to rub his throbbing temple and got a hand full of snot for his trouble. This was not going well at all. 'Why does this concern me?"
The Death Eater stared resolutely at his feet, while shifting his weight constantly as if rocking himself for comfort. "She won't stop sobbing My Lord and the poltergeist is destroying the place. He keeps shooting spit wads at everyone and overturning furniture."
Voldemort sighed exasperatedly, not really wanting to believe that his day could get worse especially since it was a ridiculous ghost causing all of the problems. He felt his eye twitch ominously, something that was happening more frequently over the past few weeks. He attempted to calm his breath but realized that anger would probably serve him well. Voldemort faced his servant and barked his orders. "Get the damn ghost out of here!"
The young Death Eaters blushed before paling. "We tried my Lord but she-"
He cut him off. "Never mind, I'll do it myself!" Voldemort reached for his wand and halted. She stole my wand and now I am completely powerless. Angrily, he spun to face Snape before drawing himself in slightly. He was still weary of the bat like Death Eater. “You will go and-“
The door flew open and Draco Malfoy came tearing into the room, his hair disheveled and a look of horror upon his thin, pinched face. Flying after him was the ghost of a crying girl and a poltergeist who was singing raucously at the top of his voice. Voldemort recognized him instantly as the poltergeist that haunts Hogwarts, Peeves.
“Dear Myrtle’s a bit weepy
With eyes oh so leaky
She falsely remembered her love.
Oh she can’t bear it
Being in love with a Ferret
So away the white boy got shoved.”
Peeves did a sort of bow before throwing a kettle full of boiling water through the weeping girl. It hit the floor with a loud clang and splattered water all over his feet. Voldemort leapt back in shock as the water hit him although thankfully it did not burn him.
He turned his red eyes on the boy who was cowering at his feet. “What is the meaning of this Draco?”
The blond boy simpered but did not look up to speak. “She followed me from Hogw-warts, My Lord.” He gave a loud sniff but was instantly drowned out by an even louder wail from the ghost that looked oddly familiar to him. He studied her as she cried and for a moment the memory that had belonged to another time was unreachable; when it came back it hit him like he was being bludgeoned.
Voldemort watched the girl for a minute and no one else in the room, save the crying girl the poltergeist whom was making farting noises with his armpit, made a sound. “You are Myrtle, are you not?” He asked her softly, proud of himself for remembering her name.
She glanced over at him and recoiled in disgust. “I… I am bu-but I haven’t ever seen a ghost as hideous as you!” She began to cry again in earnest. Peeves handed her a rag to wipe her face and she tried to take it, forgetting that she was not corporal. When her hand passed through it she began to sob even harder and Peeves merely cackled merrily before floating to the ceiling and turning over to drop the rag through her head.
“Poor, pitiful Myrtle forgets that she can’t pick things up but Peeve’s likes to help her to remember.” He laughed and blew a raspberry at her.
Voldemort felt out of control in the situation. He had no wand and no way of forcing these two beings to leave. It was impossible to rid a dwelling of a poltergeist and nearly impossible to force a ghost to do anything that they did not want to. He went to rub his eyes and received another handful of snot from that redheaded wench. Today was shaping up to be an overall disaster.
“What do you want Myrtle?” Voldemort asked her softly.
She must have taken his soft tone for warmth because she looked up and answered. “I love Draco and I want us to be together! I’ve made room in my bathroom for him so he can join me but… he says he can’t and he cries so and was always unhappy.” She glanced lovingly down at the boy. “Please, let me take him back to Hogwarts and he can stay hidden in my bathroom. No one except Harry Potter goes in there and Harry wouldn’t tell anyone because I have kept secrets for him!” Myrtle looked almost triumphant as she finished and she had certainly stopped bawling.
Voldemort looked from the ghost down to his youngest Death Eater. “Is this true Draco?” He tried to keep his voice calm but it seemed almost impossible after everything that had happened. “Were you telling my instructions and secret plans to this ghost, this mudblood?” He pointed a finger at Myrtle and he saw her recoil out of the corner of his eye.
“There is no need to call me that! How did you know I…” Her voice faded out as she slowly approached him. Voldemort turned to watch her glide forward and felt a ripple of unease course through his body. Myrtle’s expression was unreadable, her pale face still shone from her recent tears. “Who are you?” She asked softly and no one moved.
Except Peeves, of course; he did not follow the rules of etiquette that other sentient beings thought of as prudent. Peeves blew an ink pellet at Voldemort, which hit him square in the face. He could feel it mingling with the bogies that already coated his skin.
“Ha-ha!” Peeves did a loop in the air. “Marked you!” He stuck out his tongue again before circling Myrtle lazily. “That is Tom Riddle Moping Myrtle! You knows him as the Head Boy when you was at Hogwarts.” Peeves turned over so that he floating in midair, upside down. “Or you didn’t notice since you died the year before he was made Head Boy.” Peeves revolved until he was facing Voldemort, still upside down. “This is You-Know-Poo, this is.” He cackled again. “Slip of the tongue.” He stuck his tongue out before speaking again. “I meants to say You-Know-Who.”
They all froze including Myrtle but she did not start to cry again. Finally she cocked her head to the side and spoke. “You look too silly to be You-Know-Who.”
Voldemort’s mind stopped. Right now the greatest wizard on earth was covered in bat bogies, ink and did not have a wand. In all he really supposed that he did look silly but admitting that did not make him feel any better. Instead he bent down, picked up Draco’s wand from his hand and cursed the boy. “Crucio!”
Draco screamed and squealed like a young girl as he writhed on the floor. Voldemort enjoyed this form of torture immensely. It always gave him back a sense of control in this otherwise chaotic world. He held his wand on him until the boy only thrashed on the floor. When he lifted it, Draco became to twitch violently. “You have disappointed me Draco. I cannot have a servant telling my secrets to anyone, not even the dead and especially not to a dead mudblood. Crucio!” This time he meant to hold the curse on him until Draco was a drooling, useless lump but what happened next shocked him into lifting the curse.
Myrtle attempted to punch him. He lifted his wand as her transparent fist came flying at and then through his face. Voldemort was so disconcerted that she had nearly decked him and then to have the cold, dead hand pass through his eyes, that he could not think clearly enough to continue torturing the boy.
Of course her fist did not make contact and she had swung hard enough to fall through him so that the rest of her passed through his body, chilling him throughout.
“NO!” Myrtle wailed and began to cry, trying to beat her small hands on his back. “I should be able to do this! You cannot hurt my Draco!”
Voldemort stepped back from her and tripped over Draco’s prone body, causing himself to fall flat on his bum. He immediately stood again, still facing the wailing girl. “I can do as I please, Myrtle.” He smiled maliciously, ready to deal the final blow. “After all I did it to you.”
She stopped crying to gaze up at him with a look of horror and fascination on her face. “Wha-what do you me-me-mean?”
“Didn’t you ever realize that it was I who opened the Chamber of Secrets first? I who set the basilisk on the school to hurt the mudbloods and I…” here he paused for dramatic affect. “I am the one who killed you.”
Voldemort had expected her to begin crying again. What he had not thought he would see were two extremely enraged spirits. Myrtle began to curse at him and she rose into the air above, waving her finger threateningly. “YOU KILLED ME!?! YOU ENDED MY LIFE AND CONDEMDED ME TO LIVE IN A TOILET FOREVER!?! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE BEING FLUSHED DOWN TO THE LAKE WITH PEE!?!”
At the same time a rather heavy chair was thrown at his head, knocking him to the ground and causing stars to dance before his eyes. Peeves was also screaming, adding to the cacophony that surrounded him. “SHE IS SO ANNOYING! WE’VE HAD TO LISTEN TO HER FOR FIFTY YEARS AND IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” Surprisingly enough the prankster was sounding saner that he had ever before. It was tremendously unnerving to hear a poltergeist speaking clearly and rationally. “SHE DOESN’T STOP CRYING EVER AND HER NOSE IS ALWAYS RUNNING! SHE IS THE BANE OF MY OTHERWISE CALM EXISTANST!”
Voldemort was stunned and had no idea what he was going to do. He was sure that the blow to his head didn’t help but now Peeves was attempting to throw items at him that Snape was deflecting with him wand.
“ENOUGH!” Snape bellowed over the din that had filled the room. “You both will go back to Hogwarts this instant.” His voice held just the slightest hint of a threat.
Myrtle sniffed. “I am not leaving until I know Draco won’t be hurt anymore.”
“He won’t be hurt anymore.” Snape assured her and Voldemort glanced up at him, surprised at his daring. If this is how my world is shaping up then Snape will have to go.
Myrtle glared at Voldemort. “He will kill him.”
“And I ain’t doing nothing you says.” Peeves informed Snape peevishly. He wrinkled his nose as he glared at him. “You ain’t a professor anymore.”
“No.” Snape agreed slowly. “No, I am now the fugitive that killed Dumbledore. I guess if you would like to stay in my company then there is no way that I can stop you.”
Myrtle and Peeves both looked at each other for a moment. Finally Peeves spoke up, sweeping his bell cap from his head and holding it towards the door. “After you, my Lady.”
Myrtle nodded slowly before floating towards the door. She turned back briefly before exiting. “I’m sorry Draco, I tried.” With that she was gone and the little man hurrying after her. The door swung shut behind them.
Snape walked over to pull Voldemort to his feet. “Are you all right Master?”
Voldemort wobbled on his unsteady feet before looking at the skinny, oily man next to him. He couldn’t trust him and yet, he had no way of disposing of him at the moment. Voldemort could not duel the man without a wand that was meant for him. What do I say? Can this day get any worse?
The door creaked slowly as both of them turned to see Harry Potter standing silhouetted in the door, his face shone as if lit above. No one moved and again the room was unnaturally still.
“Don’t bother to call for help, the Order has already taken out every guard in the place.” Harry’s voice was cold and hard.
Snape shook his head. “That’s not possible! We’d have heard-“
Harry cut him off. “Silencing Charm kept you from hearing us.” He stepped into the room, his wand leveled at them. “You took Luna and we were frantic. You took Fred and George and figured you would get what was coming to you.” He moved another step closer. “But you crossed the line by taking Ginny and…” he paused for a moment before chuckling. “It looks like you got what you deserved. You look like hell Tom, what did she do to you?”
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
Snape Goes t...