Lily POV

I sat on my bed, arms wrapped around my knees as I stared at the ceiling. An uncomfortable and heavy weight pressed on my chest, and my body felt sore even though I'd barely done anything physically demanding. Moreover, I was experiencing a horrible headache that wouldn't go away. It was bad enough that I felt sick, but complications seemed to pop up everywhere, and then there was that unsettling feeling I couldn't quite explain. I didn't want to overthink- not about the odd events or the clouded thoughts that came with them, and certainly not about James Potter. That'd prompt my head to throb even more.

I buried my head under a pillow. Fresh snow. The scent of your home. Your first day at Hogwarts. The sorting hat. The piece of homework you have to turn in next week. Clouds. Maybe these thoughts could distract me from, well, something I didn't want to deal with.

Yes, clouds. White, fluffy clouds in the clear blue sky. Cute little cotton candy clouds. Magical wizardy clouds. The different types of clouds that float above the Hogwarts grounds daily.

Before I knew it, I was smiling broadly, and my cheeks burned. A series of images flashed in my mind. Black, ruffled hair and a crooked grin. A brilliant shade of Scarlet blustered by the wind as a bloke mounted his broom. The same smirk on his face after saying a sly joke. The soapy scent he carried at times. And of course, the white fluffy clouds that floated behind him as he caught a Quaffle and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Merlin, I had to stop this—whatever it was— before it got out of hand; before Marlene notices as she'd never let me hear the end of it.

I just had to avoid him long enough for it to go away. That wasn't so hard. Then again, I'd never been good at avoiding people I liked. Maybe I really was out of my mind because for a second I thought I saw James flying outside the opened bedroom window.

"Lily, I need to talk to you."

The hallucination could speak, too. I really needed to get myself checked at St. Mungo's. The image wouldn't go away no matter how hard I rubbed my eyes. Then, it occurred to me that broomsticks could lift people up several feet into the air and he might just be real.

"James?"

"I can explain, Lily."

"Explain what?"

"Whatever needs explaining!"

Panic rose to my throat and I felt my eyes widen. Didn't I just tell myself to forget about James a few moments ago? What was he doing here and why did I feel kind of happy about it?

"I—uh… not today!"

I stuck my tongue out, shut the windows and put on my coat because the air was chilly. Before he had the chance to react, I'd run out of my room and descended the stairs. Because, really, James Potter was an issue I had to fix some other day.

My chest pounded. From seeing James flying outside my window or from running, I couldn't tell. What I did know was that I couldn't face him—or anyone for that matter—without looking like a cluttered little puffskein. I wasn't sure of where my feet were taking me, but I figured it would take some time before James could gather his wits and find me. Besides, if I stopped trying to hide now, I might change my mind and turn back.

As I was rushing, an image flashed in my head. An old deserted place that sat atop the Great Hall—that was exactly where I needed to go. Perhaps I didn't need my coat after all. I ran down the stairs, past students and teachers who didn't know why I was in such a hurry. When nobody was looking, I slid the door open and stepped inside Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom.

Alone at last!

Then, I heard a faint wail from another stall.

"Hello?" I mumbled, looking around.

The sobbing stopped for a moment, and a brittle, child-like voice said, "Who's there?"

I've heard the stories but had never actually seen Myrtle in person. When a pale, young girl flew out of the stalls, I must have seemed too astonished, as she placed her hands on her hips and looked offended.

"I bet you've never seen a ghost before," she said, floating towards me with a breathy voice and accusatory tone. "Don't make it a habit to stare at people like that. It's very rude."

She wore thick glasses and what was probably the Hogwarts uniform some time ago. Her dark hair was tied in two ponytails and a fringe framed her face. She looked barely fifteen, but the way she moved made it seem like she was in her twenties.

"I—I am used to the sight of ghosts, but, uh, this is the first time I've seen you so I suppose I got a little… fri—" I quickly covered my mouth and cursed myself inwardly. "Oh no. That's not quite what I meant!"

She let out a whimper. "Oh. I look that awful, do I? Godric forbid you had to actually see me with your own eyes." Myrtle watched her reflection in the mirror and touched her acne-covered forehead as though noticing it for the first time. "I guess I'll always be the huge, pathetic girl nobody cares about."

"You're not pathetic." She didn't seem to hear me, though, and continued her self-depreciating monologue. I didn't really sound all that convincing either.

"If that's the only thing I am to everyone I meet, I may as well be—be— dead."

Unable to help myself, "Er, I don't mean to be rude, Myrtle… this honestly confuses me, but aren't you already dead?"

With that, she burst into more sobs and I bit my lip. Wrong move.

After a while, Myrtle stopped crying, and I took the chance to introduce myself. "I'm—"

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and looked at me shrewdly. "I know who you are. You're Lily Evans- smart, quick-tempered, a redhead, and popular. I didn't forget anything, did I?"

"How did you—"

"I don't always stay here. No, no, no. I hear things about you. I visit other bathrooms when I can. It's terribly lonely in here."

I wrapped my arms around myself. The room had suddenly got colder.

Myrtle continued talking. "Nobody ever comes to this place, which makes me dreadfully lonely all the time. But you have, and nobody ever visits me unless they have some sort of problem."

She grinned and slowly glided towards me, dragging out her next words. "Now I wonder what… is… yours."

I took a step back, trying to quash the jumpy feeling in my stomach. "I…uh, he…"

"It's about a bloke. Oooooh!" She threw me a greedy look and flew across the room like she hadn't been this thrilled in ages. "The illustrious Lily Evans has a squabble with a bloke."

"It isn't like that!"

I started to see why nobody was too keen on hanging out with Myrtle. She was quite good at making people feel uncomfortable. "I never said it was about a boy."

"Is he good looking? A great kisser? Oh, what I'd give for a bloke to stumble his way over here. If I'm lucky, he might even be the older of the Black siblings, that ruggedly handsome fellow. Oooooooh! Tell me, is he tall? Good looking?"

"I'm not telling you."

Myrtle's smile faded. "Oh. That's how it is… I… I suppose nobody would want to confide in poor Myrtle, ugly Myrtle. Maybe haunting toilets is all I'm here for." She flew back to her stall with quiet sobs.

It wasn't the most considerate decision but I decided to leave Moaning Myrtle alone for a while. Maybe space was what she needed. Besides, I remembered why I ran to the bathroom in the first place and that was to take refuge and clear up my head. Dealing with Myrtle's concerns would have to wait—until I could get my own life in order, at least.

I walked to the sink and washed my face, feeling refreshed. However, when I shut my eyes, I had to reopen them abruptly after seeing a familiar, unwelcome figure. Why was James on my mind at times like these? What did water have to do with him anyway?

My head was toiling with me again.

Sometimes—I could admit it now— I felt the urge to run up to James and snog him senseless in front of everyone. There was the physical aspect of that desire, I had to admit, but it was also about forgetting what anyone had to say and finally ending the mental storm that had been troubling me the entire week… or month, if I wanted to be even more honest.

Things weren't that simple. For one thing, I wasn't brave enough to face my own feelings or act on them. I was also wary of Marlene's reaction or Sirius's teasing if either of them ever found out, but all of that paled in comparison to how James might react. On some cloudy days when I sat by myself to contemplate on life and other past events— well, it didn't happen often but I could recall the bloke who'd always surprised me with a new pickup line every week. I wanted to believe that James was still interested—even after the horrible insults and unfounded accusations I'd since hurled at him.

That was delusional, obviously. He hadn't asked me out in two years. Regret is, perhaps, worse than any form of rejection. That and possibly ruining a relationship with someone I treasured a lot. I didn't want him to slip away and remember the bitter charges he'd once held against me. I certainly didn't want to go back to being enemies.

And that was why I couldn't ever tell James I fancied him. Of course, more of it had to do with the fact that I was a huge coward when it came to these things. I hoped Godric Gryffindor wasn't too disappointed with me.

"Myrtle?"

She flew out of the stall, looking cross with me. "Finally remembered me again, have you?"

"I was troubled by… something, sorry. You alright?"

"I'm never alright, Lily Evans. I'm nothing but a ghost. No friends, no family, no life." I could sort of understand Myrtle now. Haunting a bathroom for ages would have made me desperate too. Myrtle was the type who indulged in self-pity and revelled in attention, and that wasn't always a bad thing. "I'm eternally young. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? No one will ever want me..."

"How—how old are you?"

"Fourteen."

I should have phrased my sentence differently. "How long have you been fourteen?"

She looked like she was about to burst into another sob. "A very, very long time."

"I'm… sorry for you."

"You should be. I'm a ghost, you know?"

I nodded coyly. "Yeah, I'm… aware."

Myrtle rose—literally—and so did her already high-pitched voice. "Of course you are. Couldn't be plainer than day. I'm pale and—"

I frowned, but it was because James was still in my head, and the muddy thoughts had rushed back in. What was it about that boy? Why did I even decide to fancy him? My silly feelings were making things more complicated than they should have been. Then again, nothing about James was simple.

He was charming, yes, beyond attractive—that was a given, but what on earth possessed me to fall for someone I'd detested since the Third Year? Then again… I never detested James. He was arrogant and a bit of a bully, but he had a good heart, although to end up actually fancying him and going back on my word was a different matter altogether.

Myrtle interrupted my thoughts. "Keeping to yourself again? That's how it is."

My head snapped up, and I felt apologetic but didn't know what to say. "Sorry. Something was bothering me."

"But you didn't think of telling me," she said, floating in the air.

"I didn't."

"Because nobody ever thinks of telling me, that's why."

She was right. Myrtle was too self-depreciating for her own good, but she wasn't lying when she said that nobody ever told her anything, much less treated her like a real friend.

"Myrtle, I—"

It happened in a split second. The ghost had spun and glided towards me with an angry glimmer I'd never seen before. Myrtle wasn't crying anymore. She pointed at me accusingly, and her voice seemed to manifest into three different pitches. "You've never had it as bad as I did. Never had to fight against bullies or feel horrible about yourself. And why would you? You're—" she tried to hold back a sob "Pretty. You can get any bloke you want… look at me! Look at Myrtle! Boring and silly and…" she burst into more wails.

"You're right, Myrtle. Life isn't fair. But you have to put up with it. You can't just sit there and feel bad about yourself. Do you know why I put in so much effort at excelling in school? It's because somehow I'm not good enough to be a real witch for some people, and I have to prove myself." I told her, thinking it wasn't exactly the best response or time to talk about these things, but not being able to keep myself from talking. "Do you know how terrifying it is to be muggle-born? To lose your very best friend because he'd been… tormenting people like you?"

I paused and took a deep breath. "Do you know how horrible it is to hear about those mass-killings, knowing that you're likely the next target? That this entire war was waged because of your existence?" I was ranting now, but it felt good, being able to talk about the topics I usually chose to avoid. "But I have to shut my mouth and get on with my life, because there isn't any use whining about it, is there?"

Myrtle stopped sobbing and seemed to see me in a different light. "I was muggle-born too."

Silence fell over the room for a few seconds, although it seemed like eternity. Myrtle and I weren't very similar—we weren't alike at all—but for a few moments, I felt like we could understand each other completely.

She shifted. "It must be horrible to be alive."

"Just a bit… I mean, I wouldn't give it up just because of a war," I said.

"You were worried about the war all this time?"

"No," I told her, smiling. "I was actually thinking about James Potter."

Then, my own words dawned on me, and I felt like cursing myself. I covered my face with both hands; it had started turning very pink. Shite indeed.

Myrtle took a few moments to process what I'd said. "Potter? That tall, good-looking Gryffindor chaser? Oooooooooh!" She flew around the room eagerly. "It's peculiar—quite peculiar and interesting. Lily Evans fancying James Potter? That's bloody— preposterous!"

I waved my hands, trying to silence her to no avail. "Stop that! Shhh!"

"Quite the reversal, now, isn't it? He used to—" she giggled at me. "He used to fancy you!"

My entire face had turned scarlet, but I glared at her. What was it going to take to get this ghost to quiet down? "Myrtle! Come off it!"

"It doesn't seem like it anymore—from what I've heard. Perhaps I can even have that fine, fine bum for myself!"

It was too much, and before I knew it, I'd yelled at her. "JAMES POTTER IS NOT INTO GHOSTS!"

Myrtle stopped talking or moving, and the enthusiastic vibe seemed to have left her; I knew I'd gone a bit too far.

"Sorry! I…"

"He'd prefer you, of course," Myrtle said, suddenly a foot from me. "That makes so much sense, doesn't it? Of course he wouldn't even think of laying a hand on the dead and ug—"

"Myrtle…"

"It's true. No sense in denying it."

"I realized something a while ago," I said, sighing. "I think you'd be happier if you pitied yourself less." While it probably wasn't something she wanted to hear, somebody needed to break it to her. "You do. Nobody's going to stick up for you if you don't do it for yourself, you know?"

Fresh ghost tears fell on her cheeks. "Easy for you to say."

"You're not helping yourself by blaming others, either. You're the one who's been calling yourself ugly, Myrtle. If you fixed that—if you could only look at yourself differently…"

"As if it's as easy as that. You can't—ever— fix ugly."

"You can fix how you look at yourself, and you can fix who you hang out with, too. There are plenty of ghosts on campus, and—"

A deep voice came into the room and bounded across the toilet tiles, sending chills on my back. "Lily?"

I froze and gave Myrtle a panicked look, hoping she'd get the message. Of course, instead of keeping quiet, she flashed me a devilish smile and yelled as loudly as that brittle voice could muster. "Lily Evans! I think someone's looooooking for you."

I threw open the door and sure enough, it was James standing right in front of me, tucking something into his left pocket. I scratched the back of my head and tried to be casual. "Hey, James. Fancy seeing you here."

He shifted his feet awkwardly and wore an unreadable expression. "Lily… what were you doing there?"

"Funny you should ask that," I said, stalling until I could come up with a legitimate explanation. My skin had started to crawl and I wanted to run back into the bathroom and shut the door. "I was… hiding."

He frowned. "Why would you hide?"

James looked up suddenly and I followed his gaze to see Myrtle flying out of her fortress with a leer.

"Lily Evans wants to get in your pants, that's why!"

A/n: Sorry this took so long. Senior year and college happened, and free time when you're in college, I've found out, is meager. I don't really have an excuse except that love stories take quite a while to happen but are very well worth the wait. I'm not sure if this story is, but I hope you enjoyed reading. :) Myrtle was a pretty interesting character to explore. I'd write a one-shot about her if I had the time. Anyway, this story is coming very close to the end. Thanks for sticking around and reviewing! :) It'll probably also take me a while to write and publish the next chapter. I can assure you, however, that so long as people give notifications about it (meaning message, favourite, review, etc), I'll remember to get it done, even if that might take a while.

xx

El Padfoot