Current mood:	accomplished
Current music:	Disney // Colors of the Wind
Entry tags:	fan-fiction

FIC: The Key to January [G, Daphne Greengrass and Moaning Myrtle]
Title: The Key to January
Author: M.B. Black [caretta]
Character(s): Daphne Greengrass and Moaning Myrtle
Rating: G
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Genre: Friendship
Summary: An attempted escape from reality turns one Daphne Greengrass' world upside down.
Word Count: 1,024 words
Author’s Note: A non-member January challenge submission for omniocular. Unbeta'd (any volunteers?).

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It was a fine tradition for courting to begin in summer. For centuries, young boys would seek out the girls of their choices. After an initial attraction developed, the boy would begin wooing the girl into his affections, planting the seed needed for harvesting. Within weeks, it was custom for the boy to receive blessing from the girl's father and ask for her hand in marriage.

It was a fine tradition, indeed, to some. It seemed a bit silly and rushed to her.

**

Daphne Greengrass was engaged to Theodore Nott. Not a shock, she thought. Laura Greengrass and Eudora Nott started planning the wedding the minute Daphne was born.

"If it's not a shock, then why do I feel miserable?"

"Well, I don't see why you're asking me. I'm always miserable."

Daphne started and looked up at Myrtle in shock. "Why are you in here?"

Myrtle glared at her behind large spectacles. "Don't tell me you haven't heard of Moaning Myrtle of the girl's bathroom. I know what everyone says about me.

"Well… What are you miserable about?"

"I'm getting married." To a boy that I hardly know, despite the fact that we've been acquainted since childhood, she added.

Myrtle scoffed. "Is that all? In case you haven't noticed, I happen to be dead." She sniffled. "No boys liked me."

Daphne rolled her eyes and scowled. "If whinging is all you do, I'm not surprised that no one ever liked you. If you don't like being dead, that's your problem."

"Well! If you don't like my whinging, there is a door, you know."

After a moment of silence, Daphne sighed. "I like the company," she whispered.

**

Within a fortnight, Daphne walked into the girl's bathroom. "What was your time at Hogwarts like? While you were still alive, that is."

Myrtle glared at her.

Daphne smiled and waited; of course, the spectre would be unwilling to talk about her life at first, but Daphne was excellent in the art of persuasion – and she was patient. "If you wish not to talk about it, you can ask me something." I'll ask you next Saturday, she thought.

Myrtle nodded and she was visibly relieved. Then, she stared at Daphne for a moment with a curious look. "Why did you come back?"

"I told you, I like the company," Daphne smirked at her, "though I haven't the slightest clue as to why."

"How insulting," Myrtle huffed. "I like the company as well. Your insults are different, as if they aren't really insults at all."

Daphne frowned. "Do many people insult you?"

"Of course they do," Myrtle wailed. "I'm fat and ugly!"

"What are you on about?" Daphne scoffed. "Have you seen Millicent Bulstrode? Well, Millicent cleans up well, but when she gets angry…" She trailed off and shuddered with disgust.

She shifted. "Do you get many visitors?"

Myrtle floated around her. "I wouldn't call them visitors, no. Many people do come in here, though – they look for sympathy." She smirked impressively. "I don't give it to them."

"I've heard the stories!" Daphne laughed. "Can you really cause floods when you get upset?"

"I can cause floods in this bathroom any time I wish! Of course, very few people have figured that out."

Daphne walked around the room, stopping at the sink. "You know, this is a very Slytherin bathroom." She turned on the tap. "Were you in Slytherin, Myrtle?"

"No. I was a member of Ravenclaw. I was much too depressed by the idea of imminent death to have many ambitions…" She laughed; Daphne cringed at the bitter sound. "Of course, I've had a lot of time to deal with that."

Daphne turned around and stared at Myrtle. "I think it's time to leave. My mother will want to discuss the wedding arrangements, no doubt." She wrinkled her nose – she hated planning with her mother.

**

"Why won't you tell me about your time at Hogwarts?"

Myrtle glared at Daphne. "It would not be a pleasant conversation. Besides, it would make me feel like your grandfather, rambling about the past."

"You know…" Daphne grinned. "I don't mind that."

"Even so, I refuse to speak about Hogwarts, unless it is in a general way." She floated carelessly around the room. "You know, there are a lot of interesting stories to tell. Harry Potter used to visit me. I wonder what happened to him…"

Daphne froze. Harry Potter? The boy had died during the Final Battle. It seemed like such a long time ago; she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Daphne, you are frightening me! What's the matter? You're so pale," she shrieked. Myrtle reached out a hand and the icy cold touch jerked Daphne out of the memories.

"Oh God," she whispered.

"Daphne, what happened?" Myrtle began to hold out her arms, though she pulled them back.

She can't touch me, Daphne thought. Oh, but how that thought saddened her!

"He's dead. He died – just a couple of months ago. I was… remembering. I—I need to go." With that, she ran out of the room.

**

The next day, she came back. "I wish you could touch me. You—you're a friend. Friends can touch each other—they can hug and comfort each other. We can't hug, though."

"You know, there are not many people I have considered friends. You happen to be one of those people, but I have to let all of them go at one point. You will leave Hogwarts and will never be back."

There was a short pause. "I want to invite you to my wedding to Theodore Nott." She took a deep breath. "It will be on a Saturday – the 27th of June. Please be there, Myrtle."

**

In the end, Myrtle came to the wedding, much to Daphne's delight. In the end, the two developed the tradition that Daphne would visit Myrtle every second Saturday of every other month. In the end, Daphne convinced Myrtle to tell her about her life – her death – and her dead-life.

In the end, when it came time for the two to say good-bye, they never really did.