A/N: The word Agnosco/Agnoscere means to understand, to acknowledge, admit, etc.

I picked this word because we all know from the books that Tom Riddle never knew love. This story is an attempt to bring out the possibility that he might have understood it once. At least, in his own Voldie kind of way.

Disclaimer: I do not own the story of Harry Potter in any form or way possible. All rights belong to the imaginative mind of JK Rowling.

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Agnoscere

"All I remember is a pair of big, ugly, yellow eyes... Over there, by that sink."

But that was not all that Myrtle could remember about how she died. However, she wasn't going to tell Harry of it, or anyone else for that matter. At least, she wouldn't say anything for many years. Maybe hundreds, if she could help it. There was more to Moaning Myrtle's story than met the eye, her constant crying and screaming, and wailing had one name, one reason only. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Unlike what many people would think, however, she was not crying for her death which was caused by Tom's deathly Basilisk. The truth was that Myrtle loved that boy more than anyone could imagine. What was worse is that on some level, Tom had loved her as well. He had never had love in his life until Myrtle came along. Their affair was more secret than the fact that Tom was the real Slytherin's heir, and they kept it that way even after both of their deaths.

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He smirked disdainfully and scowled in anger at the girl sitting almost then feet away from him. It was a rare sight to see Tom Riddle in detention, and yet here he was because he had put this girl in her place.

The two of them had been paired for Transfiguration. She had been having trouble with what he thought to be a fairly simple conversion. 'Certainly, turning a book into a dinner table was easy 

enough' he thought. Well, he was proficient in all of his classes. He began to feel frustrated when the Ravenclaw paired with him couldn't transfigure the book, when he had done it on the first try.

As Myrtle failed for the fifth time, Tom had frowned in exasperation and snapped at her. "I thought you were a Ravenclaw," he said. She sighed and turned to look at him. "And just what is that supposed to mean, Riddle?"

Still frowning, he said "It means that you are supposed to be smarter than this" he gestured in disgust at the book she was failing to transfigure. "The whole point of pairing up, Riddle, is to help each other when need be."

He snorted. "I will not do your work for you." She gaped at him. "What?" she cried indignantly "I said help each other, not one do the work of the other, Riddle." They failed to notice that their classmates were beginning to stare at them.

"Ha," he continued, "of course! You say that now, and that is how it would begin, and then I would end up doing all of your work."

"How dare you? Just to let you know, I am a very good student and I don't need help from a Slytherin, nonetheless." By this time, the class was very quiet listening intently to their argument.

"The House of Slytherin is too noble for someone like you to be able to understand it" he smirked. She frowned, knowing all too well what was coming.

"Someone like me?" she asked him.

"Yes, a filthy little mudblood" he said making half of the class gasp in surprise. Although he had said it with a low hissing voice, everyone in the classroom had hear his expression. That included the blue-eyed bearded face of Professor Albus Dumbledore. If there was one thing Professor Dumbledore couldn't stand was someone using that word. Tom knew this, but as his arguing escalated so did his temper, which he forgot to keep in check this time around.

"Mr. Riddle" the usual gentle voice sounded stern and disapproving. "Fifty points from Slytherin. You will serve detention with Mr. Filch tonight. Report to his office after dinner, and may you never use that word in my presence again," commanded the Transfiguration Professor.

When Tom turned to glare at Myrtle, he saw that she looked rather affronted herself. "What?" he snapped confused "You don't think that was punishment enough?" She glared back.

"As a matter of fact, I don't. But the problem is that I have detention with Filch tonight as well," she said grimacing. He sat back exhaling forcefully and in anger. "Fucking great," he murmured crossing his arms. Myrtle couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly.

That is how this night found the two students serving detention together. At first, Filch told them to sit next to each other to polish the school trophies. But almost instantly, they began to argue once more and Filch had to separate them. After checking that they were working properly, Filch retired to check on Peeves who was making another one of his rackets on a top floor.

An hour into the detention, Myrtle stood up to find a second rag since the first one she used became too dirty. She would be getting the trophies more dirty than polished if she kept on using it. She stepped inside the closet with all the cleaning supplies for trophies, and spotted the box with all the rags on the shelf. Stepping inside the closet, she instantly noticed that she couldn't reach for the box. It was too high up on the shelf. "Shit," she murmured. 'Riddle's tall enough' she thought, 'maybe I could ask him to reach for the box for me.' Breathing deeply and feeling as if she was about to enter a cave full of dragons, Myrtle called out his name.

"There better be a very good reason for a mudblood like you to be calling for me" he said as he casually leaned against the doorframe.

"Stop calling me that" she huffed. "Or can't you remember what Professor Dumbledore said?" she asked.

"Yes, he said I may never use the word in his presence. Do you see him anywhere around here?" He sighed. "Alright, four eyes, what you want?" he asked.

"Could you reach for that box up there and get another rag for me?" she asked him cringing at having to ask him for the favor.

He frowned. "Are you joking? Just summon the damn thing" he said heatedly. He didn't wait for her to do it. He pulled out his wand and summoned a rag from the box. However, when he stepped inside the closet to grab the rag as it came towards him, the door of the closet closed itself shut with a loud bang. He turned to face the door. "What...?" his face was full of confusion. Facing her once again, he found her smiling cynically with hands on her hips and tapping one foot against the floor.

"No magic is allowed here, genius. I would have summoned it myself otherwise" she said.

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" he snapped. "I don't get as many detentions as you apparently do."

She only smirked "I thought you were smarter than that" recalling what he had said to her earlier in the day. He sighed in frustration.

"I suppose we can only wait for that useless Filch to get us out" he said. "Fucking mudblood" he murmured under his breath, but she heard him.

"And you're a fucking slimy Slytherin, but I guess there's no way around that either, huh?" she said already getting fired up.

"Do you have any idea who you are talking to?" he snapped angrily.

"Who?" She snapped equally angry. "The prince of all that is rotten? They should give you a plaque in Slytherin, or crown you for being such a jerk."

"How dare you talk to me like that you worthless mudblood?" She cried out in frustration and tried to shove him against the door of the closet. He stumbled back in surprise taking her with him. Together, they fell to the floor with her on top of him. Both of them were panting heavily, their chests heaving against one another. He looked at her incredulously. 'Did she really push him?' he asked himself. What he did next was something that he would never be able to explain to himself.

He pulled her head towards him and smashed their lips together. She whimpered against him and struggled for a moment, but he held her strongly. She sighed and all but melted into his arms. Hands caressed getting to know a new body. His were sliding down her back; hers were sinking into his raven hair. Who knows what else might have happened in that closet at that moment, for they were interrupted by the door yanking open.

There was Mr. Filch in all of his scowling glory holding a lamp in front of him. The two students couldn't have sprung apart more quickly even if they had been hexed to do so. They scrambled to their feet and got out of the closet with Mr. Filch yelling at them. However, they were not really paying attention. They did register a few of his expressions like his "detentions weren't for snogging sessions" and something about "having no respect." Both Myrtle and Tom were too engrossed in what had happened between them to clearly notice Mr. Filch ranting at them. They finished their detention in silence, not saying one word to each other nor to Filch.

Neither Tom nor Myrtle was able to sleep that night. 'Don't I hate that girl?' Tom asked himself a million times over. Closing his eyes, he sighed remembering the soft lips and the feel of her curves. 'By Merlin, but she was exquisite' he thought. So much for hate.

Meanwhile, Myrtle was having similar thought. 'What does this mean?' she asked herself. 'Oh, that kiss was intoxicating.'

The next day, they had Transfiguration once more, and Professor Dumbledore deemed it necessary to pair them together again. They averted their eyes from each other throughout the lesson, and didn't speak one word to each other. However, when it was time for the practical part of the lesson, something happened that seriously shocked Professor Dumbledore and the students who noticed it as well.

Myrtle was trying unsuccessfully to turn a book into a dinner table again. Tom did it on the first go like last time since he already knew how. Then, he started observing Myrtle from the corner of his eye as she failed each and every time. After the third time, he had noticed where she was making the mistake: she was fluttering her wand too sharply.

As she was going for a fourth try, he reached out and grabbed hold of her wand hand. "Not like that. You're not a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake. Stop rushing it," he told her quietly while making the proper movement while still holding her hand. He let go slowly. "Try it again" he said. Myrtle took a deep breath in order to steady herself from the shock of having him touching her, and tried just as he had indicated. It worked. She turned to him and they locked eyes. There was something different in his eyes. The usual scorn was replaced by something else. She couldn't put a name to it.

"Thank you, Riddle" she said hesitantly.

"Of course... Myrtle." Although he had said it very quietly, she heard him and couldn't help but gasp as he said her first name. Class was dismissed, and they parted ways.

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Looking at herself in the mirror, Myrtle decided she was too old to be wearing two pony tails. Not wanting to appear as though she was making a huge change about herself, she now wore one pony tail. Still, the change was great. She looked much older now; as she should. She couldn't help but wonder if she was making this change in order to look better for Tom Riddle. However, Myrtle decided not to ponder too much on that for now. Getting her homework together, she headed for the library.

Once she reached the library, she walked straight to her favorite desk. It was located on the farthest corner of the library, where all the books about History of Magic were. No one ever went there, so it was to her surprise to find a student already sitting at her desk. He was not just any student, though, it was Tom Riddle.

He had discarded his robe and placed it at the back of his chair. She stood frozen on the spot observing his casualness.

"Are you going to sit down?" he said looking up from the book. "Or you are still not done ogling at me?" he asked with a smirk on his face.

She looked away blushing. "I was not ogling at you." He raised an eyebrow in response. "Really?" he said rhetorically.

"I had never seen you sitting here before, or anyone else for that matter. Any particular reason for the change?" she asked also raising an eyebrow. He looked at her as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle. Rolling her eyes and sighing in exasperation, she sat next to him. He had actually made the first step by getting close to her, so it was now her turn to make the two of them talk about what had occurred between them.

"So, I've been thinking" she began.

"A Ravenclaw thinking? How bizarre!" he uttered in mock surprise. She frowned slightly.

"Spare me your sarcasm, Tom." He pursed his lips in distaste. "Call me Marvolo" he said.

"Why? Is that a nickname?" she asked. "Certainly not," he said, "I don't do nicknames. Marvolo is my middle name. Tom is just too common."

"Marvolo, Marvolo" she repeated tasting the name. Then, she had an idea "How about I call you Marv?" His eyes widened a fraction. "Not in your dreams" he said. "You are most certainly not giving me a pet name" he said shaking his head negatively.

She smiled evilly, "oh yes I am… Marv." He scowled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Fine! Cal me… that… but in front of anyone you will call me Riddle. No one is to know about this, either."

"What do you mean?" she asked feeling hurt. "We can only be tog… friends in secret?" She was about to say together, but decided not to push it.

"I cannot be seen making friends with the likes of a mud… muggle-born. I am in Slytherin" he said not being able to contain the pride within himself.

"Oh come on! Surely, there must be muggle-borns in Slytherin" she said exasperated. There was a pause on his part, leaving her expecting his answer.

After a moment, he exhaled forcibly and started speaking "There are, but you know how…" And they went off discussing the blood lines, and Salazar Slytherin's view on muggle-borns. The never-ending topic that haunted every generation that walked through the halls at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Neither of the two students had notice the time until Madam Crettier, the librarian, told them that it was time for dinner. Tom had even mentioned to her that he was raised in the muggle world himself, but that neither of his classmates knew about it since he did not dare to make it itself known.

When they began to gather their books, Myrtle showed more interest in his situation. "So, you are a muggle-born?" He frowned. "I have checked all of the pureblooded families and my last name doesn't appear there" he said. "So, I am sure that my mother must have been a witch."

"Not necessarily. I mean, look at me. My parents have not one ounce of magic in them, and I turned out to be a witch. If you want, I could help you doing some research to find where you come from" she offered.

He turned to her. "Alright, just one thing…"

"No one is to know about this, yes I know" she cut him off. She turned to face him fully "I don't get it. You don't like muggle-borns, or even to be regarded as one, but you were raised like one yourself. And I know what you meant about being in Slytherin. But, perhaps you could be more tolerant and less hypocritical." She left him standing at the library doors and staring after her. Myrtle headed for the Great Hall.

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"I don't think you understand what I mean" Tom said frowning in frustration. They were once again speaking of muggles.

"We are the ones who have power in our hands. We are the ones that make things happen magically. They should be the ones hiding, and we should take over the world, make them look up to us. Have 

you seen the many wars they have fought? Have you seen their mediocre actions? It's like they are trying to destroy the world bit by bit."

"I understand what you mean, Marv" said Myrtle. "But it sounds to me like you are thinking along the same lines as muggles do." She sighed and stood up from her seat. "The wars that muggles have fought have all been basically because their governments want more power. Isn't that what you want too? More power to rule over them all? Because if it is, then you are not much different than they are."

"Don't you dare compare me to those mongrels. And yes! I do want more power. Because we deserve it... to be above them, and any other creature that is not magical. Myrtle, how can you not see this? It is simply logical. We have magic, they don't..."

"So, just because someone is not born with magic, they should be punished?" Myrtle exclaimed angrily.

Tom sighed heavily. "Perhaps we should change our topic of conversation" he said. "What was it that you wanted to show me? And why exactly are we meeting at this abandoned shack?" he said the last part looking around said shack distastefully.

She pursed her lips. "You did say you didn't want to be let seen with me. So, I thought we should meet here. No one comes in here ever, I checked. And... I wanted to show you something" she hesitated.

"Well?" he asked her after a few seconds of her silence.

"Marv, I... I did some research in the library when I went home over the holidays. Searching through newspapers, I found a family with the last name Riddle." She noticed Tom tensing, but chose to continue.

"It's a well-to-do family, an old couple and their thirty-something year old son. What I read about him was that he had somehow rebelled against his family, and married some girl. But they didn't mention her name. Apparently, he left her only a few months after the two had gotten together. He never explained why he had returned to his home without the girl. She disappeared and was never heard from again. He is now engaged to another woman. Marv... his name is Tom. Tom Riddle, just like you. I think he could be your father."

Tom had not spoken a word ever since Myrtle began her tale. When he did, he had to clear his throat. "Does it say where they are?" Without speaking, Myrtle gave him a piece of parchment where she had written the information.

"Marv, please don't do anything rash" she said caressing the side of his face. It wasn't the first time she had done that. And she always did it when she sensed him in a foul mood, he realized. It always calmed him down.

He shook his head negatively. "Don't worry" he said. "Slytherins don't do anything rash. I will find out first everything I can about him and all... then, we'll see." He grabbed her hand that was still poised on his cheek and pulled her to him. He kissed her. Passionately, at that.

The kiss startled Myrtle. They had not kissed since that day in the closet. Sure, they had somehow formed a sort of friendship and he had allowed her to call him "Marv". They were now getting closer every day more. But the incident had never been repeated.

After only a fraction of a second, Myrtle reacted and kissed him back giving as much as she was receiving. His lips were demanding, and she gladly let him take what he desired from her. A hand that was holding her neck caressed her down her back. She shivered as goosebumps formed all around her. He rested his hands at her lower back, then came down to her hips.

They came out for air. Both were panting heavily. Their eyes locked. And Myrtle saw his eyes watering. Myrtle reached out a hand to his face, and a tear rolled down his left cheek. She wiped it away with her thumb, and realized exactly what was wrong with him. He was angry about what he'd heard of his father. And he wanted to forget, vent out his emotions. He needed her for that.

Myrtle kissed him chastely on the lips, then leaned in to whisper in his ear "Take me." He stared at her hesitating. She nodded. "I want this. And I'm pretty sure you do too. Let me make you forget, Marv" she said gently.

He kissed her again and started undressing her.

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A while later found them lying on the makeshift bed on the floor. Myrtle had fallen asleep on his chest and Tom was caressing her bare back with the tips of his fingers. He felt her stirring and he looked down at her. She sighed and breathed in his scent. He caressed her loose hair and carved his fingers through it.

"Why don't you ever wear it loose?" Tom asked her quietly.

She looked up at him. "I don't know. I guess it's easier this way. Don't need to..." she paused yawning "...don't need to be taking care of it a lot... not a model" she muttered before snuggling into his chest.

Tom sighed and shook his head affectionately. This thought made him stop short. 'Was he getting feelings for this girl?' Hmmm, yes he was. He couldn't call it love. To be honest with himself, he never really understood how anyone could care for someone else in such a way. But he did feel... something that he couldn't name yet.

A dark thought crossed his mind. His... father... a fucking muggle at that. Tom wanted some answers, but first he needed to find out who his mother was. There were a few months left before the end of the school year. But he would start from now on to do his research. The best place to start with was that damn orphanage. He had to find out about his mother first. Then, he would deal with that... specimen.

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She sighed as she looked through the store window in front of her. The beginning of her seventh and last year at Hogwarts was approaching, and Myrtle was by herself in Diagon Alley buying the books and other materials she would need. She had thought that Tom, her Marv, would be accompanying her. But she had not heard a word from him or seen him all summer. The last time they had spoken, they fought because he wouldn't let her come with him to meet his father. With a last glance at the dress robes, Myrtle happened to turn towards the entrance of Knockturn Alley.

That's where she saw him. Tom was dressed all in black and was taking off his hood when she set her eyes upon him. A smile erupted to her face when she recognized. And just as she made an impulse to approach, she did a double take. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was definitely something different about him.

Myrtle had watched him more than enough times to notice the way he walked and held himself. There had always been arrogancy on his walk, but now there was an air of almost... royalty on his stance, and Myrtle dared think it... a bit of darkness too. They locked eyes from afar, and he nodded at her. That was all the indication she needed. They would see each other in the shack.

"Marv," she exclaimed as soon as she stepped inside the abandoned shack. "Tom!" she shouted "I'm over here, Myrtle " he said coming out of the shadows. She exhaled and stepped forward hesitantly. He examined her face as if he was studying her, which Myrtle found rare since he had done the same thing many months ago when they'd decided to be together. Something was different about him, but regardless of that she couldn't keep her hands off of him.

She stepped into his arms, and they embraced one another. Reaching his lips slowly, almost afraid of his rejection, Myrtle kissed him chastely. Giving him several closed-mouthed kisses, she put her arms behind his neck and felt him relax against her. He sighed, placed a hand behind her head holding her in place, and really kissed her this time.

With a flourish of his wand, he accioed the mattress from upstairs and it reached their side with a loud thud, which startled Myrtle. Once she looked at the bed, she started undressing herself. Tom did the same. They lied down on the bed and resumed their kissing. He was about to please her orally knowing how much she enjoyed it. But she stopped him.

"No," she shook her head "I need you inside me, Marv." He looked at her with lust in his eyes and teased her by rubbing the head of his cock against her pussy.

"Oh, fuck me... please, now!" she whined from beneath him. Without more hesitations, he entered her fully in one go. For a long time, there could only be heard cries of "oh god" and "fuck me".

Sometime later found them still on the mattress. She had an arm and leg on top of him. "You were quite... thorough today" he told her with a smirk.

"That's what happens when you go away for so long... And you didn't even reply to any of my owls." She looked at him in reproach.

He frowned. "As far as I remember, I let you know the last time we spoke that I would be away for some time. That I wouldn't return until after I found what I was looking for" he said.

Myrtle's head shot up so fast, she thought she would get a crink. "You found your father?" she asked him.

He sighed and stood up to get dress. Myrtle stared at him for a few seconds before doing the same, only slower. Once she was fully clothed, she turned to where he was standing by the window. His back was straight, and he was twirling his wand between his fingers. With a start, Myrtle noticed a gold ring on his middle finger. 'I guess I was more preoccupied with... other things' she thought.

"Where did you get that?" Myrtle asked. Although the real question was 'how had he gotten that ring?' It looked quite expensive, and Myrtle knew that Tom didn't really have the money to purchase such a fine piece of jewelry.

His stance did not change, but he stopped playing with his wand.

"Marv" she said quietly. "Please, tell me... how did meeting with your father go?" she asked him.

He finally turned around. Meeting her eyes, he smirked. "Let's just say that it went... as it should have" he said and she noticed a strange light coming into his eyes as he said that. Her back ran cold in a second, and Myrtle was getting a very bad feeling.

"What have you done?" she whispered hoping for her bad feeling to be wrong or go away, or both.

"Nothing he didn't deserve" and again there was that odd glint in his eyes.

Myrtle swallowed hard against her now dry throat. "Please tell me you didn't..." she breathed out.

"Do what?" he raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to know the story of my so called father?" he advanced one step towards her. Myrtle had to fight with herself to keep herself from stepping back from him.

"He married my mother. Ah, her name was Merope, by the way. She had not confided in him that she was a witch. So, once he learned what she was... once he knew his offspring might be born with the same disease, as he called it, he abandoned her." He walked back to the window.

He could have passed by the epitome of all serenity, but the scowl on his face said otherwise. "What kind of a father is that? What kind of muggle would think that he is above wizards? He deserved punishment, and who better than his own son to deliver said punishment?"

"So, it was taken care of... as it should have." He turned around once again and stepped towards her "And would you like to know what else I have found out, Myrtle?" he asked with a glint of excitement and that darkness in his eyes. She couldn't even shake her head, let alone say a word.

"My mother's family, the Gaunts, are related to one of the greatest wizards that ever lived. My grandfather was named Marvolo, my middle name. Marvolo Gaunt was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin!"

Myrtle's eyes widened and she finally gasped "what?"

"Oh, yes. And it explains so much about myself, my magical abilities, about my personal views of the world. Everything has finally fallen into place, Myrtle. I am Slytherin's heir." His voice had taken a tone of both malice and excitement.

"Marv, I.. I don't kn..." she stuttered.

"No" he stopped her. "That name suits me no longer. I have branded myself with a new one instead. As I said, it all fell into place. Using my birth name, I played with it until I came up with a more extravagant name. All wizard kind will hear it and bow to it, respect it... fear it." Myrtle felt herself begin to shake from the inside out.

He raised his head "I... am... Lord Voldemort."

Even as hard as she tried, Myrtle couldn't help but flinch a bit when she heard the name being said. It wasn't the name itself, but the way in which it was spoken, the way he was speaking to her.

"W-what's happened to you?" she whispered in fear "You are not the same Marv. My Marv. Yes, you were always quite arrogant, but you would have never gone this far."

"Don't you UNDERSTAND?" he said raising his voice and taking hold of her upper arms, shaking her as if to make her see his point of view. "Do you realize everything that we could be capable of? Every little thing that we could do? We can change the world, and do as we please. We can make wizard kind rise out of its hiding place, and reign over muggles. Who better than the heir of one of the founders of this school to do such a thing? Who better than Slytherin's descendant to rule not only wizards, but the whole world?"

Myrtle was shaking her head negatively as if trying to convince herself that this wasn't happening. That the person in front of her was not the young man she had fallen for. That this was some other being... a monster that had taken over him, and was now speaking through him.

"NO!" she shouted getting away from his tight grip. "No, no, no. This... this has to be a nightmare. How could this happen? How can you be talking like this? How could you have done such a thing to your own FATHER?!"

"Weren't you listening, you idiot Mudblood?" He continued ignoring her gasp "He deserved to be punished. And all that cross me shall suffer along the same lines."

Her fear was being replaced with anger and it showed in her voice "So, you're going to kill me too, Tom? Are you going to get rid of me, to punish me just like you did your father?" she shouted.

"What are you saying?" he hissed.

She breathed out deeply and unevenly. "It means I cannot do what you ask of me, Tom; that I will never willingly come to your aid, to your side. That I will fight for the side of the light. That if you ever succeed at your plans, then... then..." She couldn't finish, her voice had broken finally. Her strength had left her and tears started to pour down her cheeks.

Having buried her face into her hands, she startled when she felt arms wrap around her form. He felt hard against her, no longer affectionate. But Myrtle took comfort in whatever he had to offer her at the moment.

When she stopped crying, he tilted her face upwards to meet his eyes, and he finished what she couldn't say before. "Then it makes us enemies" the word left a bitter taste on his tongue. She shuddered and breathed out a sob as she nodded shakily, unable to say yes.

Tom leaned forward and met her lips in what they both knew would be their last kiss. As he turned around, she followed him with watery eyes. He paused at the door of the dingy room. He turned his head half way to make sure she heard him. "So be it."

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She knew it had been him who damaged the girls' loo on the third floor. She had been the one to teach him the spell that damaged the pipes. She had invented it after all. There was something very weird about this whole ordeal, and Myrtle was sure going to find out. He was the heir of Slytherin, after all. And she knew about his... plans of darkness.

They had established it that day in the shack... that this new Voldemort persona would make them enemies.

With much trepidation, but her wand firmly in hand, Myrtle entered the girls' bathroom. A strange sight met her eyes. The sinks that were usually in a roundabout way were now separated from each other leaving a hole on the floor. She blinked in confusion, and looked around the bathroom. Seeing no Tom Riddle in sight, she quickly made her way to one of the cubicles and closed the door so as not to be noticed.

Hearing a strange hissing sound, Myrtle slowly opened the door of the cubicle without making a sound. She gasped quietly as she saw Tom Riddle levitating from inside the hole. At least she thought it was a quiet gasp for he spun around and looked directly at her.

"What do you think you are doing here?" he hissed at her.

"Stopping you from whatever crazyness that has come to your head this time, Tom Riddle. What the hell are you doing, trying to mess the foundations and the plumbing?" she asked irritably, and also with concern. Of course, she knew that he wouldn't destroy the castle. Hogwarts was home to Tom, and he would never harm the school. He would harm some of the people inside, though.

"Leave... leave now before you regret it, mudblood" he said to her. Myrtle thought she saw a bit of the old Tom in his eyes for a fraction of a second.

"Why? What have you done now, Tom?" She heard something slither up the hole and it all clicked into place. What was only known for as a legend about the founders of Hogwarts School. Slytherin's so called Chamber of Secrets... that could only be opened by the heir of said founder. And the heir was right in front of her... he'd been speaking in a different language. No, not speaking. Hissing. He was a Parselmouth!

The sound was nearer now. So, the chamber was real, which meant the monster was real. And Tom speaking in Parseltongue could only mean that the monster was a snake. Not just any snake. It had to be huge for it to be considered a monster. Perhaps an anaconda? No, bigger. A basilisk!!

This train of thought happened in a mere few seconds inside Myrtle's head. She was a Ravenclaw, after all.

"Myrtle" he whispered. And that was definitely the old Tom speaking to her because his face had taken a mixture of fear and interest. Fear for her, she noticed. But he was also interested in what would happen if she stayed.

There was no time to move. And she was not prepared for what she witnessed next. First, she saw the head coming out of the hole. It was as if she had been paralyzed, though she knew that was not possible. But her fear and shock had truly left her unable to move.

She looked at him in horror. His eyes flashed with a twinge of red, and she knew her soul would never rest until he was put to rest. She let out a sob and tears escaped her eyes. The basilisk heard the sob she let out. The eyelids slipped open. The big, ugly, yellow eyes raked her form and finally reached her eyes. And then… darkness.

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Myrtle's ghost first appeared on the same spot that she died three months afterwards. Her parents begged the Headmaster of Hogwarts to let them speak and see their daughter, but he refused and so did the ghost herself. During her first month, she never got out of the bathroom.

It wasn't until the Bloody Baron had a talk with her that she finally decided to go to other places around Hogwarts. But even then, she avoided any contact with the living. Unless it was the Headmaster, of course.

After some time, she saw Tom inside the castle once more. Her old Transfiguration professor was now the headmaster of the school. She heard he had come asking for a job position, though she didn't know it at the time.

She got out of the bathroom, and waited for him at the entrance of the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle moved, and there he was. There was more darkness in him now, and almost nothing left of the young man she had loved once. She realized he hadn't recognized her and mistook her for one more ghost.

And ever since she became a ghost, Myrtle spoke for the first time "I hope that one day you will acknowledge those who you have wronged, Tom Riddle" she said making him stop. He turned around on the spot to stare at her. "But knowing you, it will be only a second too late before you realize your mistakes."

"I do not make mistakes, mudblood" he hissed. "Lord Voldemort makes no mistakes" he said with contempt.

"But the half-blood Tom Riddle does" she said only to anger him. "Killing me was one of the firsts." She shook her head sadly "Remember that I was your only affection, Marv. When you die, I hope there's a piece of you that could remain with me for eternity. Not of the Dark Lord in front of me, but of the Marv who knew about love once."

As it turned out, his soul had been shattered piece by piece by a similar half-blood young man. Myrtle couldn't have "Marv" for eternity. But her ghost vanished from the Hogwarts' grounds on the day he was finally put to rest.

THE END

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A/N: Thank you for reading. I would appreciate your review.