You knew a boy, once. He was tall and handsome yet quiet and intelligent. Popular, amongst both students and teachers. Admired and loved by the school.
The sort of boy who would never take an interest in you. You were nerdy, you wore glasses, you were ugly. You were unfriendly and bossy, a simple shield you put up to protect yourself. No-one liked you.
He was a Slytherin, you a Ravenclaw. He was a Pureblood and you a Muggleborn.
You were opposites. He probably didn’t even know who you were.
You were in the library one day, minding your own business as usual, when he sat down at your table.
“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked politely. “All the other tables are full...”
“Yes “ I mean, no, no I don’t mind. It’s fine,” you reply, ashamed at your own embarrassment. But he smiled at you encouragingly and you continued with your work.
It was very difficult to work with him sitting opposite you. You were curious. You wondered what secrets lurked behind those good looks, what hurts were hidden in those eyes. You wanted to start a conversation, but there was no way he would want to talk to you.
“What’s that book you’re reading?” you asked, curiosity finally getting the better of you.
“This? Oh, just something on ancient potions.”
“For Slughorn?”
“No, I’ve already done my homework. I just like to do... extra research. I’ve read most of the books in this library by now.”
“Really?” You were excited. Maybe he was just the tiniest bit like you... “I’ve finished my homework too, I just read this for enjoyment.”
The ice had been broken open, and suddenly you found yourself smiling surreptitiously at him between classes, receiving a wink back. Just making eye contact with him brightened up your day. You started to bump into each other in the library and smile secretively.
Every time you talked he would make you promise never to tell anyone that you were friends. It would be bad for his image, he said, and with the Heir of Slytherin on the loose that could only be bad. But you didn’t mind. He cared. He actually cared about you. You could tell, it was in his eyes, in his face, in his understanding words of comfort, in his trust. So you kept it secret. A little part of you wanted to keep him a secret. It made you feel so important and you relished being able to keep him to yourself.
Soon you weren’t only meeting in the library and flirting sneakily across your books. It was unused classrooms, down in the kitchens, in a strange room that always seemed to appear exactly when you needed it... He was very good at avoiding being caught. Firstly, by being a Prefect and so well-liked by the teachers as well as having such an innocent voice, he could talk himself out of anything. He was a convincing liar, you had to give him that. Secondly, he was amazingly stealthy and constantly alert, so it was very rare that you were found in the first place.
At first you just talked. You had never talked so freely to anyone before. You told him how much your parents had hated you when they found out about your magic, how difficult it was to go and see them at break time, how everyone at school hated you... He told you about growing up in a Muggle orphanage, how his parents were dead, how he was bullied for his strange abilities... He talked a lot about the attacks, how he hated to see all those people Petrified, how it was time someone put a stop to it all. You suspected that he knew something, but whenever you asked he professed that he didn’t.
Then one evening you were in a deserted Transfiguration classroom and you were crying because this stupid girl called Olive Hornby had been teasing you again. He pulled your chin towards him and looked into your eyes so deeply you felt you could see his soul through them, and suddenly he was kissing you.
He was kissing you! You had never been kissed before. It was so impossible you hardly dared to believe it. But it happened again, night after night. Secret, stolen kisses.
And then, as suddenly as everything had begun, it all ended. You were in the toilet that day, crying from being teased, desperate to see Tom, when those great yellow eyes had appeared, and you had died. Of course, you told everyone that you became a ghost to haunt Olive Hornby, but there was another reason.
You had to see him, just one last time.
But you never had the courage to talk to him in your new form. He would hate you, you knew it. It hurt you to see him around the castle, to know you could never kiss him again, never talk to him again. So you set your mind to torturing Olive Hornby, as though it were all her fault.
Then eventually you settled back at Hogwarts, in that toilet where you died. You lingered around Hogwarts, hoping that sometime you’d hear a rumour about him. He was so intelligent, surely he would have made it big in the Ministry by now.
But there was never a word, not the slightest whisper, of Tom Riddle.
~
You heard of a man, once. People said he did terrible things. Unspeakable things. The very thought of him instilled the kind of fear you hadn’t felt since the days of the Basilisk, but this time no-one was there to comfort you. It was a bizarre feeling, to be dead and yet still fear for your life.
You wondered if he had gone to Hogwarts since you’d been there, floating around, listening to gossip. You certainly couldn’t remember anyone who had seemed that evil, who could so thoroughly enjoy hurting so many people.
Perhaps he was like you. He had been bullied, left friendless and alone so many times that he had turned to the Dark Arts. You couldn’t say you hadn’t considered it... that was before you met Tom of course.
Then, when you finally found something worth living for, you had died. You had spent fifty years moaning the irony of it. That you had finally lived and then lost everything. Sometimes you wished that he had never sat down opposite you in the library that day, that you had never experienced something so wonderful. That you had never fallen in love with him.
But you knew you were kidding yourself. Those special moments were all you had to hold on to now, and you could never regret them.
So you relived them in your mind, over and over again, distracting you from the imminent danger of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the terrible things he did.
~
You knew a boy, once. He reminded you a lot of Tom. He was handsome and intelligent too. His eyes had that same lost look, hollow from long-endured pain. But he didn’t need you like Tom had. Harry Potter had two friends, friends whom he cried and laughed with. Tom hadn’t had them. He had had admirers, but no friends. He had always said he didn’t need them, but you knew differently. He had needed you, after all.
You met Harry Potter when the Basilisk was around for the second time, and that night he found his way into the Chamber of Secrets, a part of you wanted him to die. Then maybe someone would understand you the way Tom had.
But Harry didn’t die. Instead he uncovered things you would rather have never known.
That the man you loved and the man you feared were the same person. That Tom had never loved you. That he had only needed you to test his influence on other people, that he had killed you when he was finished with you. That it was all a big fat lie. Merlin, he wasn’t even a Pureblood as you had always thought.
It hurt so much that you had to delude yourself about your own importance. So when Harry stopped visiting you, you had to find someone else. That someone became Draco Malfoy. You pretended that he needed you, that without you he was alone, that only you could stop his tears. But he left too. Left you, discarded you. Just like Tom had.
You were destined to be alone. To moan and weep in a small bathroom in Hogwarts Castle eternally, while the rest of the world flew by, not even sparing a glance at you.
Yet when you heard that Harry Potter had killed Tom, you could only think one thing. Even though you never knew who he really was, even though he destroyed the Wizarding world, even though he ruined your own life, you had loved him.
And you would keep loving him, until the sun set and the world said good-bye.
The Wrong Secret by The_Real_Hermione
Chapter Endnotes: Please let me know what you think (ie review)! I hope you liked my characterisation of Myrtle. I thought this situation really suited her character from the books.