The Marauders: A Hogwarts Tale

"NO!"

Myrtle's anguished wail tore through the oppressive stillness of the girl's bathroom, echoing like a banshee's lament against the damp, tiled walls. The flickering lamps overhead cast trembling reflections on the puddles of water pooling across the floor, while the drip of a leaky faucet punctuated the heavy silence. The air seemed to thicken, weighed down by the sheer force of her despair, as though her grief had seeped into the very stones of the castle.

Severus flinched, clutching his wand as if it were the only thing anchoring him to the moment. His dark eyes darted around, sharp with irritation and a twinge of alarm. "For the love of toads and leeches, Myrtle!" he hissed.

"Are you trying to get us all caught? You might be a ghost, but the rest of us still have the unfortunate burden of living—and all the unpleasant consequences that come with it!"

Myrtle floated closer; her translucent face streaked with spectral tears that shimmered faintly in the dim light. Her sobs were raw, unrestrained, and pierced through the room like shards of glass. "I can't!" she wailed. "Raine can't be gone… she can't be!" She shook her head violently, her wispy hair swirling around her like a storm cloud. "No, no, I refuse to believe it!"

Severus rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh, though his irritation wavered under the weight of her emotion. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Myrtle. It's just a blasted story," he said sharply, though his tone faltered slightly. "Pull yourself together—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes flicking to Lily, and the words caught in his throat.

Lily sat frozen, her green eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she clutched her scarf tightly against her chest. Her fingers twisted and wrung the fabric, her shoulders trembling slightly as she struggled to hold herself together. She turned away, wiping at her cheeks with the corner of the scarf, but it did little to hide the depth of her sorrow.

"Oh, not you too," Severus groaned. He let out a sharp exhale, his long fingers running through the greasy strands of his black hair. "It's just a story, Evans. A fabrication. Fiction. None of it's real."

Lily turned to him suddenly. "No, it's not just a story, Severus!" she snapped, her green eyes flashing. "Don't you get it? It's real—every word of it. James was right. Whoever wrote this book lived through it. Every memory, every heartbreak… it's the truth." She paused. "You can feel it. I know you can."

Severus shifted uncomfortably, his sharp features betraying a flicker of doubt. "Utter nonsense," he muttered. "Let's say, for argument's sake, that you're right. That this—this book is real. Why in Merlin's name would someone keep it from us?"

The question lingered in the air like smoke, heavy with unspoken implications. Lily's gaze dropped to the book clutched tightly in her hands, her expression torn between grief and determination.

"Because they had to," she whispered. "Because they knew we'd have to know the truth. That we wouldn't be able to look away, no matter how painful it is."

Myrtle floated closer, her sobs quieting as her pale, misty form seemed to dim in the flickering light. "Sometimes…" she said, "the truth is worse than the lies."

The words hung in the air, a poignant echo that seemed to settle into the very stones around them, as though the ancient castle itself mourned along with them.

Severus's head whipped toward the sound of echoing footsteps in the corridor, his sharp instincts kicking in. "Here's a harsh truth for you, Evans," he hissed, already on edge. "If Filch catches us in here, we'll be spending the rest of the year dangling in the dungeons by our thumbs."

Without waiting for a response, he shot to his feet and grabbed Lily's hand, pulling her up with more urgency than finesse. "Come on! Hide!"

"Severus, what are you—" Lily started, clutching the book tightly to her chest, but her protest was cut short as he tugged her toward one of the stalls.

"Just move!" he whispered harshly, shoving the door shut behind them. Locking it with a flick of his wand, he climbed onto the toilet and gestured for her to do the same. She hesitated, her cheeks flushing, but reluctantly stepped up beside him, her movements awkward in the confined space.

Pressed close together, Lily's face burned as she tried to avoid eye contact. Severus put a finger to his lips, his dark eyes warning her to stay quiet. Outside, the bathroom door creaked open, and the beam of a lantern swept across the tiled floor.

"Hmmm…" came a gruff murmur, low and suspicious. "That's strange."

"Mister Filch," Myrtle's voice rang out, defiant yet tinged with mockery. "Good evening. Lovely weather we're having, don't you think?"

"Spare me your pleasantries, Miss Warren," Filch growled, the annoyance in his tone sharp enough to cut through the bathroom's eerie silence. "Missus Norris heard voices in here. So where are they, eh? Ghosts don't need company, last I checked."

Severus tensed, every muscle in his body stiff with unease as the beam of Filch's lantern crept closer to their stall, along with the patters of tiny paws. Lily clutched the book tightly to her chest, her breathing shallow, each thud of her heartbeat roaring in her ears. A faint ripple of ghostly laughter from Myrtle echoed across the cold, tiled walls.

"Voices?" Myrtle repeated, her tone light and playful. "Oh, don't be silly. I was just chatting with myself. Being dead is dreadfully lonely, you know."

Filch muttered under his breath, the lantern's glow pausing ominously just outside their hiding spot. "Hmmph. You'd best not be lying to me. Missus Norris doesn't get these things wrong."

Missus Norris let out a low, drawn-out meow as though she fully shared her master's indignation.

"Of course not, Mister Filch," Myrtle replied sweetly, her words dripping with sarcasm. "But… I've always wondered, are you… well… alright?"

The lantern's glow faltered as Filch stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?" he barked, his tone a mix of irritation and suspicion.

"Oh, nothing really," Myrtle replied. "It's just that… Missus Norris isn't an Animagus, is she? She's just a regular cat."

Filch squinted, suspicion deepening. "And what of it?"

"Well," Myrtle feigned innocence, "the only people who talk to cats are—" She paused, her tone turning cheeky as she added, "Well, let's just say Saint Mungo's has a wonderful therapy wing for—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Miss Warren!" Filch snapped as his irritation turned to anger. "I'll have you know; I am of perfectly sound mind. Perfectly sound, you hear me?"

"Oh, absolutely, Mister Filch," Myrtle replied. "Perfectly sound, naturally. Completely normal. Just you and your darling feline partner, plotting the next grand stakeout of Hogwarts' most fearsome rule-breakers." Her laughter rang out like chiming bells, playful and wicked, echoing mockingly through the bathroom.

Missus Norris let out a low, guttural growl, as though insulted by the insinuation.

"Fine!" Filch snapped, yanking his lantern higher. "But mark my words, if I catch anyone sneaking about in here, ghost or no ghost, there'll be hell to pay. And as for you, Miss Warren…" He jabbed a finger in her general direction. "You'd best stay in line. There are worse things than purgatory, I assure you."

With that, the lantern's glow retreated, casting the bathroom back into its dim, eerie quiet. The heavy groan of the door closing behind him signaled his departure, along with his feline companion, his muttering echoing faintly down the corridor.

Severus let out a shaky breath, stepping down from the toilet as Lily followed, her cheeks flushed. "You owe Myrtle a thank you," he muttered under his breath, his tone hovering between irritation and reluctant gratitude.

Lily clutched the book to her chest, nodding silently, her green eyes flickering away from Severus. His dark brow arched as he regarded her with suspicion.

"What?" he asked sharply. "What's got into you now?"

"N-nothing!" Lily stammered, shaking her head with a quickness that only made her look guiltier. "Let's just get on with it, yeah?" She turned abruptly, pushing open the stall door and stepping back into the dimly lit bathroom.

"Close one, wasn't it?" Myrtle broke the tense silence with a cheeky grin. She floated just above the nearest sink; her translucent hands folded primly beneath her chin. "Nearly caught by Freaky Filch and his mangy moggy. I didn't think you had it in you, to be honest!"

Severus ran a hand through his dark, lank hair, his expression sour. "Yes, well, you can thank me later for keeping your little escapade under wraps," he muttered, casting a wary glance towards the door.

"But that's quite enough excitement for one evening, I should think. I, for one, intend to spend the rest of my night not playing hide-and-seek with a deranged caretaker and his flea-ridden companion."

He turned to leave, but Lily's hand darted out, her fingers brushing his sleeve. "Wait, Severus…" she began softly. A faint blush crept into her cheeks. "Would you… maybe stay a little longer? I want to keep reading. I need to know what happens next."

Severus froze mid-step, turning to give her a look that was equal parts bewildered and exasperated. "You can't be serious," he said. "We've only just escaped getting caught, and now you want to loiter about like a couple of reckless Gryffindors? Honestly, Evans, I thought you had more sense."

Lily hugged the book tighter to her chest, her jaw set in quiet determination. "I am serious," she replied, her tone firm. "I've come too far to stop now. I need to see how it ends."

Myrtle floated closer; her grin as wide as ever. "Oh, don't be so dramatic, Severus," she teased, a mischievous glint in her ghostly eyes. "You were just as into it as she was. I saw you—you couldn't tear your eyes away."

Severus bristled, the faintest tinge of red creeping up his pale neck. "Utter rubbish!" he snapped, folding his arms defensively. "I've no interest in that infernal book. None whatsoever."

Lily raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her gaze. "Really? Because you seemed awfully invested for someone who doesn't care. All that muttering under your breath—"

"Observations!" Severus cut in.

"—and grumbling about how 'utterly idiotic' some of the people were," Lily continued, ignoring his protests. "Sounds a bit like someone who's paying attention, doesn't it?"

Myrtle burst into laughter, her giggles echoing through the bathroom like a chorus of bells. "Oh, Severus," she said, wiping a ghostly tear from her eye. "You're absolutely hopeless, you know that?"

"Enough!" Severus barked, his cheeks now a vivid shade of crimson. He huffed, crossing his arms tightly as he glared at them both. "Fine. If you insist on dragging me further into this nonsense, then so be it. But mark my words, Evans—this is purely for the sake of… er… critical analysis."

"Of course, Severus," Lily said with a small, knowing smile. She held up the book, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Severus grumbled, turning his face away to hide the lingering flush. "And I mean don't mention it. To anyone."

Lily smiled softly as they returned to their usual spot, settling themselves on the cool, tiled bathroom floor. Myrtle hovered beside her, her translucent form peering over Lily's shoulder, her ghostly eyes fixed on the worn pages of the book. With a deep breath, Lily turned back to where they had left off.

"You know," Myrtle began, "doesn't Filch remind you of Creedy? There's something awfully similar about them, isn't there? Perhaps it's a Caretaker thing—Creepy Creedy and Freaky Filchy, two peas in a very dreary pod."

Severus glanced up from his thoughts. His sharp features softened slightly; his tone uncharacteristically reflective. "I wonder what truly happened between them—Workner, Serfence, Creedy, and this… Amelia." His voice trailed off thoughtfully before he continued. "It seems like her death was the turning point. Whatever happened to her fractured them. Drove them apart."

Lily let out a small sigh, her chest tightening at the weight of his words. "It sounded like she meant a great deal to them… especially Serfence," she murmured, her fingers brushing the edge of the page.

"Losing someone like that, it's not just grief—it changes you. I can't imagine what they must've gone through, all those years. All that pain shaping them into the people they became."

Her fingers clenched tightly around the worn edges of the book, her knuckles pale against the fading leather. "What if the same thing happens to Godric…" she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling under the weight of the thought. "It's too tragic to even imagine."."

Severus leaned back slightly; his arms crossed but his expression contemplative. "Tragic, yes, but I suppose we'll uncover more of it in due course," he said. "For now, Evans… keep reading."

Lily nodded, her fingers skimming over the faintly inked words as she began to read aloud once more, her voice carrying the weight of the story and the mysteries yet to unfold.