Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2228520.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Moaning_Myrtle, Moaning_Myrtle/Tom_Riddle
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Moaning_Myrtle, Tom_Riddle
  Additional Tags:
      Friendship
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-31 Words: 11016
****** All the Wrong Choices ******
by demonbarber14
Summary
     After meeting Tom Riddle, her whole existence changed. 50 years in
     the future, will her new friend make the same mistakes?
Lauren’s face flushed slightly as Slughorn continued to praise her work.
“Headmaster Dippit even told me that she is in at least the top thirty percent
in all of her classes” Slughorn went on, beaming at one of his prize members of
the unfortunately named Slug Club. Lauren had been completely unnoticed by
Slughorn until the end of the first quarter. Before then, he had overlooked her
as a shy little thing who always did her work well and on time, but never
talking unless asked a direct question, which wasn’t often. When he looked over
her grades, however, Slughorn had been shocked to see that this calm wallflower
was doing far better than anyone else in the class. He chastised himself for
not recognizing her obvious talents and asked her to one of the Slug Club
gatherings the next day after class and she accepted readily.
 
Everybody in the club forgot about her after the first day when they realized
she had nothing to offer in the way of conversation. She sat quite contentedly
at the end of the table quietly eating and listening to what the others said or
drifting into her own strange world. She was used to being alone. Her
overpowering shyness and the fact that she spent all her free time reading at
the library did not win her any friends. That day, however, the interest in her
was renewed. It was one thing to have a special talent in one class, but all of
them; that showed something special. At the far end of the table, Tom Riddle
sat and thought of the interesting new development. Like everyone else, he
hadn’t previously paid any attention to her. Unlike everyone else, however, he
knew exactly what to do about her. He had long since learned the benefits of
befriending powerful people, whether they be teachers or exceptional students.
Besides, he reasoned with himself, even if she turned out to be completely
useless to him, there was no harm in having a little fun. Looking at her,
however, he highly doubted that she was really worth the trouble. Her figure
was unremarkable, more like a rectangle than an hourglass, with small breasts
and hips to go with it. He decided that a pretty face could have saved her
looks, but she was decidedly plain, even in that regard.  Her long, dull brown
hair didn’t suit her face and her glasses and bad skin didn’t help matters. He
could tell that she didn’t even bother with makeup. He had to admit, though
that her brain was worth it. Clearly she was smart enough to be of use and
sometimes it was the shy girls who were more willing to go to bed sooner, since
they were more desperate and didn’t know how to tease or say no. He suppressed
a smirk, thinking about some of his previous flirtations. He left all the
important girls (powerful witches, those who came from good families, etc.)
with their hearts intact, some of them still convinced that the two of them
were going steady. The unimportant girls were not so lucky, though he tried to
make as few actual enemies as possible during his stay at Hogwarts.
 
The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully. As the students began to shuffle
out of the door, Lauren noticed that Tom Riddle was by her side. She felt
herself blush and hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“So” he began casually as they walked down the corridor together “top thirty
percent in everything. That’s quite an impressive feat.”
“Thanks” she replied and looked at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering
why he had suddenly started talking to her. She decided that she didn’t like
being the center of attention. She loved getting the grades and the palpable
feeling of envy in the room, of course, but when it came down to people
actually talking to her, it was too much. She was so unused to human contact
that it made her nervous. “I like your shoes” she added, realizing how stupid
it sounded as she was saying it.
“Thank you” he replied gallantly. “I like yours too”.
“Thanks. I bought them about two years ago, but you really can’t tell. They
hold up remarkably well”.
They continued to talk as they made their way down the hall. Tom was as
charming as ever and even walked her to the painting outside the Ravenclaw
common room. 
 
 
 
Dear Diary,
I had a good day today. I did well on my Spells test (wonder of wonders,
miracle of miracles) and had a lot of free time to study. I even got an extra
two hours of reading done! The evolutionary history of magical creatures is
actually pretty interesting. My next book will be decidedly lighter, though.
I’m due for a novel. I heard from mum and dad! All is well and apparently dad
is mere inches away from getting a raise. Call me spoiled, but I hope he does.
Prof. S announced my good grades during Slug Club. Also, Tom Riddle talked to
me on the way back to the dormitories. I think I made a fool of myself, as
always, but as pathetic as it may sound, I was grateful for the human
interaction, short and shallow as it was. Anyway, I should get to sleep soon,
so goodnight and I’ll see you tomorrow.
-Lauren
The next time Tom and Lauren saw each other, it was at the library three days
later. She had been studying and was now reading a light muggle novel that her
parents had sent her about a wonderful man who started having an affair with
his best friend’s wife. It was so exciting that she didn’t bother to look up
when Tom was next to her. Tom had just come from an exhausting study session in
the room of requirement with a pert little Gryffindor who, like so many other
girls, saw Tom as her pet “project”. He now stood next to Lauren and gave her a
seemingly tentative “hello, again”.
“Oh, hello Tom!” she beamed. Surely if he came up to her again, he must like at
least something about her. “Are you coming to the next Slug Club meeting?”
“I am. What about you?”
“Yeah. I like Slug Club. It’s nice just being able to just spend time and talk
with other people”.
Lauren never actually talked during Slug Club, but Tom wasn’t about to point
that out.
“I know what you mean. One can feel so” he paused for effect “alienated at
Hogwarts”. He knew he had struck the right note because she nodded furiously
and said that she knew just what he meant.
“I know! It’s probably the only thing I don’t like about Hogwarts. I enjoy
being alone, though, so it all works out.”
“Do you like other people?”
The question was so direct that it caught them both off guard. Tom almost
apologized for having asked her, until she replied.
“I just think that some things are more important than people and I just don’t
always like being with people.”
Tom let a brief smirk cross his features. He knew how to read people and her
misanthropy showed through to him for the first time, try as she may to conceal
its extent. He knew precisely what approach to take now; the “I’m the only one
who understands you”, “you and me against the world” method of attack would
suit this girl well. He took a seat beside her and began talking in earnest. He
talked about types of people he didn’t like; show-offs, cheerleaders, anyone
who he assumed a girl like Lauren would hate. He was right on every count. She
nodded, wide-eyed, and told him nearly every other sentence, “I know! I feel
that way too!” He was never blatantly unkind, and only hinted at individuals,
never naming names, but he made her feel like they were the only two real,
living people in a world populated by phony idiots by saying things like,
“People like that just don’t understand”. He was almost surprised at how much
hatred was in her and for some seemingly harmless people, but he kept on with
his slow smile and low voice, making her feel with every sentence, every
syllable, even, that they weren’t like anyone else.  He solidified the feeling
by agreeing that yes, her sister was horribly unkind to insinuate that her
glasses made her unattractive and even went so far as to say that she was
probably jealous because Lauren’s glasses made her look lovely. He thought that
even she could see through that, but she continued to lap up every word.
 
By the time Tom left Lauren, about an hour and a half later, Lauren was in a
state of euphoria. She had always wanted to find someone like her, and she
finally had. She had always thought that her hatred was something to be ashamed
of, even scared of. With Tom there, however, it seemed almost natural. Sweet,
understanding, good-looking Tom. She had felt a real connection with him. If
she could feel hatred towards a stranger at the drop of a hat, she could
certainly love a boy after two conversations. He was shy like her and was more
interested in books than sports. She decided, quite calmly and still reading
her book, that she loved Tom. She also knew that she would never be the same.
As long as she lived, her first love would always be the dark haired, dark
eyed, tall, pale, shy Tom Riddle. The thought made her pause in the middle of a
sentence she was reading. I love someone. I love someone. Me. I am in love. I
am the one who feels all this. I will be the one to benefit or get my heart
broken. There is no barrier between me and this feeling. Ilovesomeone. Love.
That thing that people do in books that makes them do stupid things. Love; what
I didn’t think would happen to me. What I didn’t think I could possibly feel
for a human being. I lovesomeone. My heart belongs to somebody else. I am not
in control any more. He could ask anything of me and I would do it. I’m his
completely.She shook her head and kept on reading. There were still some things
more important that people and literature was one of them.
 
Tom smiled as he left her, marveling at how easy she was to possess. He loved
that word and let it roll around in his head. He knew that she had been won and
the rest would be easy. He knew that he could prolong things by stringing her
along; she was in such a state of devotion that she would probably stay loyal
to him for years, but he decided to act quickly. He had gotten a good look at
her breasts while she had been fuming and there was a certain soft plumpness
about them that had been easy to overlook in the puritanical uniform the girls
were forced to wear. Her legs were a little too thin, but their length almost
made up for it. He realized that he almost looked forward to the inevitable
little get-together they would have.  
 
Laura was frantic with nerves when she saw Tom sit next to her at the next Slug
Club meeting. He had gotten handsomer since that day in the library and she had
no idea what to say; should she let him know right away how she felt so that
she could know what he thought of her and what to do next, or should she play
it cool until something else happened between them.
“Hello, Lauren” he said softly. “I can call you Lauren, can’t I?”
“Yes, of course Tom” she replied, trying not to sound too eager. He was so far
the first person at Hogwarts to use her first name. People only called friends
by their first names; it was strictly last name basis for everyone else.
“Excellent. I would hate to think that I was being presumptuous.”
“You can be as presumptuous as you like, Tom”. Lauren realized how truly
ridiculous those words sounded the second she said them. She put her palm to
her forehead and groaned slightly. “I-I’m sorry. I’m really tired and that just
sort of popped out. Sorry”.
“It’s all right, Lauren”. He smirked and leaned closer to her. “Besides, I may
just take you up on that offer”.
“Okay” she sighed happily as he placed his hand on her stocking-clad knee. She
had a vague notion that nice girls didn’t let boys do such things, but she
would rather get attacked by a rabid dragon than do anything to make him stop
touching her. She had no idea that “compromising herself” (her mother’s
favorite phrase) would feel so good. The two continued to talk as the meal
progressed. He took control of the conversation, sure that she was afraid of
making a fool of herself. She was more than happy to listen to him. Everything
he said seemed intelligent, funny, and poignant to her all at the same time.
While he was talking, his hand glided further and further up her leg and by
dessert, it had reached the small strip of skin between her stocking and her
underwear. Lauren thought she would die from too much happiness and her face
remained an unflattering shade of red throughout. Tom offered to walk her to
Ravenclaw again and Lauren wouldn’t have refused for anything.
“So Tom, what do your parents do?” Lauren asked after a brief amicable silence.
Tom was shocked for a few moments. Surely even Lauren knew about his orphan
status. Then again, he reasoned, why should she? It’s not as if she would ever
get the information through a friend. He quickly became almost pleased that he
had been able to win her over without her sympathy.
“They’re both dead” he said quickly and quietly. He saw Lauren turn pale and
look as though she were about to cry.
“Oh Tom, I’m so sorry” she almost whispered. She walked up to him and hugged
him tightly. He returned her embrace, enjoying the feel of her breasts, small
as they were, against his chest. When she finally disentangled herself from
him, she kept her eyes lowered, not daring to look at him. She had forgotten
for a moment who he was and she suddenly became embarrassed at the realization
that she had literally flung herself onto the beautiful Tom Riddle. She started
to say something, but he silenced her by tilting her chin up slightly (they
were nearly the same height), and kissing her gently on the lips. Lauren nearly
cried with the joy of it. When he pulled back from her, she stared at him for a
moment not knowing what to say or do. Flippancy might hurt his feelings and
then he might think I don’t love him she thought rationally but I don’t know if
he meant it. Maybe he was just emotional. I can’t embarrass him by making a big
deal out of it. “I” she began lamely before going blank again. “I love you Tom”
she managed to blurt out before promptly bursting into tears.
 
Fuck, she looks hideous. Even in the half-light, Tom could see how red her
whole face had become. It was as if she had been physically altered to resemble
a troll, and the whining, choking, gasping sounds she made didn’t help. He
resisted the urge to walk away from her, however, and instead held her against
him again. Her sobs became less horrifyingly loud as he stroked her hair and
soothingly told her that everything was all right. He waited for the perfect
moment between her sniffles before gently whispering, “I love you too, Lauren”.
“Really, Tom?” she asked, stepping back and looking up at him imploringly.
“Of course, Lauren” he replied simply. “But we’d better get back to our houses
now, unless you want to spend quality time in detention together.” He took her
arm and walked with her the rest of the way to Ravenclaw as she happily
prattled on about how much she loved him. She fell onto her bed, overwhelmed by
what had happened that night. She pulled the curtains around the rim of the bed
for privacy, and curled up thinking everything over as logically as she could.
She came to the conclusion that he probably did love her. She didn’t see any
reason for him to lie about it. If she had fallen in love with him so quickly,
why couldn’t he have fallen for her in that time too? Also, they were just so
similar. It felt like they were the only two real people at Hogwarts. Everyone
else was too phony to have felt anything remotely like what she and Tom felt
for each other. They were incapable of it; too wrapped up in their own silly
little lives and dramas to ever truly love someone else.
She went to sleep with one last thought constantly running through her mind; I
kissed Tom Riddle. She knew that she could bear anything that happened to her
just so long as she always had that moment to summon up.
 
Lauren next saw Tom at the library. She came in and saw him sitting alone at a
desk. She tried to figure out how to do an immediate about-face without being
too conspicuous. She was sure that the next time they met would be truly
embarrassing, so she wanted to put it off. He saw her, however, and with a
smile, beckoned for her to sit next to him. “Hello darling” he said, holding
her hand after she had blushingly taken a seat.
“Hi, Tom” she smiled back, all anxiety replaced with pure love.
Might as well put the little slut to some use he thought.
“Lauren, would you help me with something” he asked as politely as possible,
after a suitable bit of small talk.
“Of course”
“You see, I would like to get some information on the founding of the school,
especially as it relates toSalazar_Slytherin and there is quite simply too much
material for me to read on my own.”
“Well, I can read some of the books for you and take notes.” She offered,
before he had even asked.
He thanked her profusely and gallantly handed her only a few small books he had
found to start with and told her to write down anything to do with Salazar
Slytherin, no matter what it was or how unimportant it seemed.
“When shall I give you the notes?” she inquired, thrilled to be entrusted to
such an interesting and obviously important task.
“How about next week, after dinner, here at the library?”
“Okay, Tom. I can start now if you want me to.” She promptly took out a piece
of parchment and a quill, opened the first book and began studying it
carefully. Tom looked at her with approval. For all her failings, she was
proving to be a hard worker and her loyalty certainly couldn’t be denied.
 
One week and many sheets of parchment later, Lauren left the dining hall and
waited anxiously for Tom. She constantly alternated between checking her watch
and checking her notes, making sure she had gotten everything. She was proud of
the work she had done. Every sentence relating to a topic even remotely
connected to Salazar_Slytherin had been transcribed word for word along with
the book and page number she had gotten it from. She spotted Tom from across
the hall and waved wildly. He returned the gesture, albeit far less
frantically.  When they reached each other, she eagerly handed him the
materials and explained her system of note-taking to him.
Tom had to admit to himself that he was impressed. He alternated between
looking at the dozens of papers and to her face flushed with pride, and decided
that he should reward her.  “Lauren” he began, adding a “darling” when he
realized that she had used the front and back of each page “this is really very
impressive”.
She bit her lower lip, trying not to shriek with joy.
“Listen, I’d like to take a closer look at this with you. Would you like to go
to the room of requirement with me? It’s far more comfortable than the
library.” Lauren said that she would love to go, despite not having a clue as
to what this alleged room actually was. She knew, however, that she wouldn’t
mind if Tom wanted to take a closer look in a basement broom closet. They got
to the seventh floor and Lauren let out a little gasp as a door appeared after
Tom had paced in front of the wall three times.
“Tom, it’s wonderful” she exclaimed as she stepped inside. She was impressed
and more than a little confused as to why there was a lavish bedroom in the
middle of a school.
“Yes, it’s really quite remarkable. You see, the room changes depending on what
the person needs.” As Tom spoke, he put the books and notes down, came up
behind her. He put a hand on her shoulder and used the other to brush her hair
away from her neck.  She inhaled sharply and almost felt her heart stop beating
when he gently pressed his lips against her neck. He smirked, feeling her
devotion to him increase as his lips travelled down to her shoulder.
Lauren was in ecstasy. She had long ago discovered that putting her hand
between her thighs and thinking about the actions she had only read about could
produce an incredible response, and somehow, Tom’s lips on her body were
producing the same results. His hands wandered to her breasts and when her only
form of protest was to groan contentedly, he tightened his grip and pulled her
closer to him. He continued to kiss her as he fondled and kneaded her breasts.
His hands dropped to the bottom of the gray wool vest she wore and tugged it
upwards. She raised her hands above her head obligingly and he pulled it all
the way off. She turned towards him and planted a surprisingly forceful kiss on
his lips.
“You have no idea how much I want this” she murmured.
He smiled and took off her tie and glasses before getting to work on her shirt.
He unbuttoned the blouse slowly and deliberately. Lauren wasn’t quite sure what
to do, so she simply stood there, awkwardly silent, thrilling every time he
touched her. She blushed with embarrassment when he was finished and started to
touch her bare skin. He groped her breasts, still covered by her bra, and let
his other hand meander down to her soft, full belly. He mumbled something about
her being pretty when he reached behind her and unhooked her shabby bra. He
kissed her on the lips, letting his tongue wander inside her mouth, as his
hands explored her naked breasts. He rubbed and massaged her chest, filling his
hands with her warm breasts. He gave her already hard nipple a light squeeze
and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. She gasped softly in a mixture
of pain and of astonishment that Tom Riddle actually wanted to touch her. After
a few more moments, he let go, gave a little nod towards the bed, and without a
second thought, Lauren walked over to the bed and lay down.  He sauntered over
to her and basked in the look of sheer admiration and awe in her face. He had
her completely at his mercy. The thought excited him far more than her naked
chest. He imagined all the things he wanted to do to her; stab her in the neck
and watch the blood flow down her pale skin, beat her repeatedly until she was
broken beyond repair, hit her with the Cruciatus Curse and watch her scream and
writhe in pain. That wouldn’t do, of course, but it was pleasant to think
about.
He climbed on top of her and after a few more obligatory kisses on the mouth,
let his lips linger over her breasts for a few minutes. He bit and licked her,
slowly working his way toward her nipple. She whimpered with anticipation, as
his tongue teasingly meandered around her flesh. He finally reached her nipple,
and licked it, before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it and lapping at
it with his tongue. She gasped again and pushed his head closer to her. He
responded by lightly biting her, which made her squeal even louder. His hand
made its way across her soft, round stomach to the top of her skirt. He rolled
off her in order to unbutton and unzip it, revealing a pair of light gray
underpants. He then peeled off her stockings, noticing with a vague feeling of
disgust, but certainly not surprise, that she didn’t shave her legs.
He went back to kissing her mouth as his hand plunged into her remaining
article of clothing and his finger began probing the already wet area. He
stroked at the sensitive flesh of her nether lips, and felt himself start to
get hard. He took his hand away and moved his lips down the rest of her body.
When he reached his destination, he glanced up at her eager, frightened face.
“You’re going to enjoy this, darling” he assured her, before dipping his tongue
inside her. She cried out in joy, as he let his tongue roam around the moist
fountain between her legs. He licked and sucked at her most sensitive areas,
until he could taste the result of her violent orgasm. When he had enough, he
stood up and began undressing himself. Lauren lay back and looked at the
ceiling. There was no doubt in her mind that she was ready. She loved Tom, so
how could she not be? It felt so good that she saw no reason to put a stop to
it. She stretched out, not believing how lucky she was. Little Lauren, ugly,
ignored, mocked, shy little Lauren had been chosen by Tom Riddle. The thought
that anyone wanted to go to bed with her was incredible enough, but the fact
that it was Tom filled her body with an incredible glow. She stole a few looks
at him methodically removing his clothing and folding it neatly. He wasn’t
particularly masculine, which she was glad about. His thin little body made her
want to protect him and take care of him, after sleeping with him, of course.
Tom looked back at her, getting more and more aroused by her nearly naked form.
Her brown hair spread across the pillow framed her childlike face quite well.
Her expression was a delicious combination of frightened, loving, and
completely willing. Her hard nipples jutted forward from her small breasts, as
if eager for the feel of his tongue. Her long legs weren’t bad in the
slightest, if one was far away enough not to notice that she hadn’t mastered
the art of shaving yet.
He removed his belt with a wicked smirk and deftly removed his pants and
underwear. He walked over to the bed and got on top of her. With one last hasty
kiss to her lips, rammed himself into her. He felt her warm body close in
around him as she gave little yelps of pleasure. He kept pulling out and
thrusting back in, a little deeper each time until they both felt the moment
she lost her virginity. It would have been painful, if Tom hadn’t been the one
with her. He came inside her a few moments later, and rolled off contentedly
after she let out a final groan of ecstasy.
“I love you, Lauren”
“I love you too, Tom.” She paused for a few seconds before tentatively asking
“Was I all right?”
“Darling, you were marvelous”.
“Was that your first time?”
Tom knew what she wanted him to say, so, of course, he said it.
“I’m glad” she cooed, nestling in closer to him. “It was mine too”
The two lay next to each other in silence for a few moments. Lauren idly
wondered how she would tell her parents and how they would react to the news.
Tom was incredibly chuffed at how well he had done with her and was impatient
to look at the notes. When he had enough of her clinging onto him, he
disentangled himself from her and brought the notes over to a little desk.
After some fervent pleadings from Lauren, however, he transferred to the bed,
where she rested her head on his chest as he read, constantly telling her what
a perfect job she had done and playing with her hair.
“Do you like Salazar_Slytherin? As a person, I mean?” She asked after a long
silence when Tom thought she was asleep.
“I never really thought about it, but I suppose so. What about you?”
“Well, I mean, I’m sure he was lovely if you knew him, but he is awfully mean
about Muggles.”
“Are you loyal to the Mudbloods, then?”
“Tom” she began, embarrassed, “both my parents are Muggles.”
The sharp breath he took was almost imperceptible. He thought it was impossible
at first, but then realized that he didn’t know anything about her. He had
simply assumed that she was a Pureblood with no real evidence other than her
good marks. He felt queasy at the thought of what he had just done. He had
actually touched a Mudblood. He had been inside her, no less. He wanted to bolt
from the room and take a shower, to rub off all the skin that had come into
contact with her. He calmed down after a few dizzy seconds. He decided not to
harm her; after all, he needed to keep a low profile. He would just let her go
gently. He squeezed her shoulder, kissed the top of her head, and continued
reading the research she had gathered for him, carefully looking for any more
clues on the whereabouts of The Chamber of Secrets.
 
 
 
Tom’s rejection of Lauren went incredibly smoothly. That is to say, Lauren was
torn apart while Tom’s behavior could remain faultless. They rarely bumped into
each other at school and when they did, he was the first one to say how much he
wanted to spend time with her, but he just had so much work to do.  He would
even come up with certain specific times they could be together, knowing full
well that she had classes during those periods. After every failed attempt at a
meeting, Lauren would always cry with the sheer unfairness of it all. Lauren
was never angry at Tom; she just wanted to be with him and resented his classes
for taking him away from her. She missed him terribly, and constantly worried
that he was with someone else.
 
Eventually, she realized that he didn’t want her anymore and spent the rest of
that day forcing herself to throw up in the bathroom, hoping to hurt herself
without actually being in any real danger. If Tom didn’t love her anymore, she
was obviously worthless. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him
and their little rendezvous in the Room of Requirement had been over five
months before. Her already low self-esteem became worse than ever until she
reached the point where she felt like crying if someone looked at her for too
long. Tom was all she had; the only thing that protected her from her
classmates. Without him, she had no reason to disbelieve all the nasty things
they said about her. She had no one to go to. Students bullied her and not even
her parents took her seriously. Before Tom, it had been bearable. Now, she
could no longer pretend that she was bullied and ignored because people just
didn’t get to know her since her soul mate had dumped her. She walked across
the lawn one evening after dinner in this state of mind when she heard
footsteps behind her.
“Hey, Mudblood!” shouted a female voice. Lauren held her books tighter to her
chest and continued walking. The footsteps caught up to her and she saw the
Hornby girl for a second before the world became a blur.
“Nice glasses, Mudblood” said the seemingly disembodied Olive.
“Give them back” Lauren said as forcefully as she could without betraying the
fact that she was on the verge of tears. She vaguely saw a movement from the
blurry figure before it said, “Sorry, I just dropped them on the grass. I’d
help you find them, but I need to get to my common room now. Bye.” Olive Hornby
trotted off to the Gryffindor common room as Lauren crouched down, not caring
how much of her legs people could see, and felt around the grass on her hands
and knees to the taunts of students crowded around her. She realized quickly
that Hornby had thrown her glasses across the lawn. In spite of strict rules
about magic outside of class, she took out her wand and mumbled “accio
glasses”.The spell worked a little too well, and she ended up being hit in the
nose, much to the amusement of the other students. She straightened herself out
as much as possible and walked away quickly, already making choking, sobbing
sounds in her throat. She had been through similar humiliations, so she knew
exactly where the nearest girls’ bathroom was where she could cry in peace.
 
She didn’t know how long she had been in the stall when she heard a voice. It
was definitely a boy, but she couldn’t tell who it was or what he was saying.
She flared up in anger and found herself shouting, “Hey, you’re not supposed to
be he-”
She never got to finish her sentence, and a few seconds later, the spirit of
Lauren Rosalie Myrtle floated towards the ceiling, looking down at her small,
crumpled body lying on the bathroom floor.
 
                                50 years later
Lauren never did find out who the mysterious boy was; he had fled the moment he
had seen her body hit the floor. She wanted to go to Tom after she died, in
order to make him feel guilty, but one look at his face from behind a massive
decorative urn changed her mind. He was too beautiful and perfect to haunt and
make miserable. Any hope of reconciliation died as well. If he rejected her
while she was alive, he certainly wouldn’t want her now that she was dead. She
did get a great deal of pleasure from torturing Olive Hornby, however. She
dedicated her entire ectoplasmic being to making her live hell. It was Olive’s
fault that she had died, Olive’s fault that she could never go outside again,
Olive’s fault that she couldn’t even pick up a book, Olive’s fault that she
couldn’t see her parents again, Olive’s fault that she was forced to remain on
Earth, Olive’s fault that she couldn’t make amends with Tom. Even the small joy
of harassing Olive was taken away by the Ministry, after a certain incident at
Jonathan Hornby’s wedding. Completely worth it, Lauren thought, resting on the
windowsill of the lavatory. She heard someone come in and ducked out of sight
in the nearest stall. Her heart quickened as her ears picked up the familiar
sobs that she had been hearing for the last few weeks. She had sworn to herself
that the next time she heard them, she would see who was crying and try to talk
to him. Now that it actually was the time to do so, she was terrified. He might
not like her. He probably wouldn’t. No one did. The thought made her bite her
lip in an attempt to stop crying hysterically. With a final burst of resolve,
she floated out of the stall and over to the boy sitting by the sinks crying
into his hands. From what she could see, he was lovely looking. He had blonde
hair, a relatively muscular form. He was probably far too wonderful to talk to
her. Everyone else was.
“Boy, why are you crying?” she inquired as serenely as possible.
His head snapped up in fright and he began to rise up.
“Don’t be so shocked; you look as though you’ve seen a ghost”.
The boy made no acknowledgement of her attempt at humor and instead, slumped
back dejectedly, too tired to say anything biting or cruel, too tired to do
anything other than cry.
“You must be Moaning Myrtle, then.” He knew about her of course; the Mudblood
who was killed by Lord Voldemort during his time at Hogwarts.
She nodded and sat next to him.
“I’m Draco Malfoy”
She remembered the name well; he was the boy Potter was trying to mess with
during his second year. Well, if this boy was an enemy of Potter the Fink’s,
they were already off to a good start.
Years of being alone in a bathroom stall had not taught Lauren any tact. “You
come here a lot. Do people bully you?”
“You shouldn’t spy on people, you know.” His tears had subsided slightly and he
started tilting his head to look at her.
“What else am I supposed to do? Also, you weren’t being very discreet.”
“Fair point” he mumbled, resting his chin on his fist, wanting her to go away
almost as much as he wanted someone to talk to.
“I’m sorry if you’re being bullied. People can be very nasty sometimes. I get
bullied all the time”
“It’s not that, it’s just that a lot of people are putting demands on me that I
don’t think I can meet, but I’m terrified of what could happen if I don’t.” It
felt wonderful saying it out loud and not having to act more sure of himself
than he really was.
“That’s a form of bullying, I suppose”. She inched closer to him. “Anything you
feel like talking about? I swear I won’t blab. Even if I do, no one would
listen to me.”
“No” he replied simply.
She annoyed him further by sitting next to him in silence for another few
minutes. He realized she wasn’t going to leave, but he didn’t want to go
outside and face his problems just yet; he wanted a few more moments of safety
in the lavatory. He sneaked a few looks at the girl next to him. It was obvious
why everyone at school made fun of her. She was the perfect fodder for bullies;
short, fat, bespectacled, pimply, and socially inept. She could have been saved
by charming self-confidence and good humor, but the tragic air that surrounded
her completed the pathetic picture. She stole a few looks at him and was
devastated to see how beautiful he was. She might have had a chance if he had
been hideous, but there was no hope of being friends with someone so
attractive.
Draco saw a slight change in her face as she contemplated the depressing state
of affairs. There was an anger in eyes that would have been comical, had it not
been for the aura of sadness that surrounded it. A small part of him almost
felt sorry for her. He reasoned with himself that he desperately wanted someone
to talk to, and Moaning Myrtle would do. Hell, he thought, she might even be
useful to me.   
“Look, if you really want to know what’s bothering me…” he began.
Lauren nodded vigorously.
“Well, at the very tip of the iceberg, I’ve got schoolwork, prefect duties,
Quidditch, so-called friends who need me to do everything for them, a
girlfriend who gets upset if I’m not with her every moment, a father who’s in
Azkaban, and then I’ve got Potter and his little gang of creeps trying to make
my life hell.”
Lauren’s face, which had previously been knotted up in a scowl at the word
“girlfriend” suddenly lit up. “Oh, I hate Potter!”
“And why’s that?” Draco asked with a smirk, his tears nearly all dried
“He doesn’t visit me, even though I asked him to, and his friends make fun of
me.”
“That sounds like them. They’ve got no sense of how to behave, but what else
can you expect from a stuck-up little celebrity, an inbred idiot, and a dirty
mudblood.”
Lauren, who had been enjoying herself, suddenly gave a shrieking cry and
floated away as quickly as possible out the window. Draco stared at the wall in
shock. He was so used to being with Slytherins that he had forgotten that
Mudbloods were capable of conversation. He sighed and straightened himself out,
prematurely exhausted at the thought of putting up the façade he had to use,
convincing everyone that he was in control and knew just what to do.
 
Malfoy’s day went just as badly as he had expected. He got a 72/100 on his
Charms test, earning him a dreaded “See me” at the top of the page. The
vanishing cabinet was no closer to working than it was when he first started on
it, and he hadn’t a clue as to how he would get rid of Dumbledore. When he
tried to confide in Pansy about his stress and bad grade, she simply told him
to study harder, but insisted on giving him a massage when he actually sat down
with his book. Lying in bed that night, he wished he could have spent the day
in the lavatory, telling the wide-eyed, translucent girl everything that was
wrong. He couldn’t remember ever having anyone to talk to and in those few
minutes sitting on the dirty floor, he had possibly found someone. He knew he
couldn’t afford to give that up. He shut the thought out for as long as
possible, but his mind kept wandering back to their one short meeting together.
 
A few weeks later, Lauren heard a knock on the door of the girls’ lavatory.
“Who is it?” she demanded, fresh from a bout of weeping by the window.
“Draco Malfoy. I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day.”
Lauren hesitated, then remembered his mournful eyes, perfect blond hair, and
the fact that he was the first person to really speak to her in at least two
years.
“Come in, then” she sniffled.
He walked in looking even more beautiful than she remembered.
“Look, I’m sorry for what I said to you. I’m just under a lot of stress.”
Malfoy was brought up to never apologize, so he wasn’t very good. Lauren didn’t
care, though.
“That’s all right. Everybody says stupid things sometimes.”
Malfoy bristled for a moment at being called stupid and Lauren noticed his
discomfort.
“You know, you never did tell me why you don’t like Potter.”
He smiled and sat cross-legged on the floor and recounted some of his past
encounters with “The Gryffindor goons” as Crabbe called them. Lauren sat across
from him, her face growing more concerned and shocked with every new detail of
the horrors he had suffered at their hands.  Malfoy made his stories more
elaborate, even slipping in the story of how he was almost amputated by a
hippogriff just to see her reaction. She then told him about everything they
had done to her. She confessed that she had liked Potter at first; he reminded
her of a boy she knew when she was at Hogwarts. Like the other boy,
unfortunately, Potter had just used her. He asked her about her death, not
because he cared, but because he needed the information for something she never
found out about. She had told him to put that stupid egg under water before
that tournament, but he never so much as thanked her, let alone visited her
like he promised.
           
            She found herself crying as she told all this to Malfoy, but
neither one cared. After an hour, Malfoy was forced to leave her to go to
Potions class, which he was failing, despite the fact that it used to be his
best subject. As he left, however both students were filled with joy at the
idea of having an actual friend to talk to.
 
Author’s_Note: I just want to thank everyone reading this and wanted to say
that I would appreciate some reviews. I want this story to be as good as it can
be, so any ideas for improvement would be more than welcome.
 
Malfoy and Myrtle soon started meeting up in the girl’s lavatory every day. At
any other time in his life, Malfoy would have been ashamed to need sympathy
from anyone, let alone the ghost of a Mudblood, but now, he didn’t know how he
managed without her. He told her everything he dared, but was sure never to let
slip anything that might connect him with The Dark Lord, of course. Secrets
about his so-called friends, his daily stresses, his jailed father, and his
feelings of incompetence, however, all came flooding out of him, along with
tears that he would be ashamed to spill in front of anyone else. After a few
weeks, he even began hinting at his great task; only saying that it was
something important and dangerous for someone very powerful. Lauren would
always give him the comfort he needed. She never tried to tell him to put a
brave face on or remind him that things could be worse. She simply listened to
his problems and showed real sorrow over them.
 
Lauren loved their meetings more than anything. She had found someone who
actually needed her and enjoyed the feeling. She understood him. She understood
the need for company, the need to cry, the need for comfort, and the anger
toward others. Luckily, he seemed to understand that she shared the same needs
as he did. He listened to her problems with far more sympathy than she thought
a boy could have. He told her that those who bullied her were all beasts and
that she deserved much better. He never told her to stop crying or stop being
so overly-sensitive. He even remembered things she had told him and would bring
them up long after she thought he had forgotten. He comforted her as much as he
could when she wept about being forced to remain in Hogwarts as a ghost for all
eternity, a fact that used to make her cry for weeks on end.
 
Draco tried not to think of the fact that he was helping the man who killed
Lauren. Instead, he liked to think that Voldemort kept Lauren perfect for him.
If she hadn’t been dead, Draco wouldn’t have gotten to see the way her pigtails
fell in front of her shoulders, or hear the barking, abrasive laugh he had
almost come to enjoy. Selfish as it seemed, Draco loved knowing that she would
always be in the bathroom waiting for him. She often offered to help him with
his enigmatic project, but he never allowed it. It was just as well. The two
existed in their own private world together and the introduction of her to his
dark acts would have tainted both of them in the other’s eyes. She loved him
more than she had loved Tom, she realized. Draco was so wonderfully human. He
was sensitive, lonely, troubled, and she knew she made him feel better. 
Although she loved him, however, she didn’t want to try flirting with him, as
she had done with so many other Hogwarts boys. No matter how much she may have
wanted to be with him, she knew that it would be entirely inappropriate (not to
mention impossible). Even when he told her about his break-up with Pansy, she
ignored the little thrill she got and simply treated it as any other problem he
had. 
 
                 There was only one afternoon they shared together that could
actually be deemed fun, but it was the happiest time they had both spent in
months, if not years. Draco was in the prefect’s bathroom, glad that he still
had the privilege of the massive bathtub in spite of the fact that he shirked
all of his prefect duties. It was the end of the day and he had decided not to
do his homework and simply get an early night. He closed his eyes and leaned
his head back so it was resting on the rim of the huge tub. Suddenly, he heard
a familiar voice from the ceiling.
“Hello, Draco”, Lauren cooed, reveling in the fact that they now used first
names with each other.
“Hello, Lauren”, he replied, looking up at her, feeling slightly drowsy and
stupid from having inhaled so much of the wonderfully scented warm water. She
asked to join him and he agreed, despite the fact that he was completely naked
in the clear water. He simply didn’t think of Lauren in any sexual way and was
even oblivious to the fact that her eyes kept darting to his crotch.
“Draco, would you mind putting in some bubbles?” she asked after a brief pause.
He agreed, of course and added towering amounts of bubbles of every color
imaginable. Lauren clapped her hands in glee.
“I used to love bubble baths when I was at home. I could just sit in the warm
water for hours and sometimes I would even bring in my record player and listen
to my parents’ old records.” She paused slightly and a small frown crossed her
face. “I miss feeling the warm water sometimes.”
                 As she spoke, Draco became suddenly grateful for the cover the
bubbles were giving him. A completely unbidden thought had caused him to get
somewhat aroused; the thought of Lauren in a bathtub. First, he pictured the
image as she had described it; giving her plenty of bubbles and a record
player. His mind soon took away all the bubbles and he imagined her lying naked
in the clear water. He tried hard not to think about it, but he couldn’t help
it. He saw her thick brown hair from a halo around her face, a much calmer and
almost childlike face without her glasses. He saw the tips of her breasts above
the water line, the nipples hard from the cold air around her. He saw her long
legs stretched out in front of her and her hand delving in between her thighs,
gently rubbing at the area covered by a triangle of coarse dark hair. The sight
of the actual Lauren hovering on top of the water didn’t help matters. Luckily,
she was content with floating just on top of the bubbles and passing her
ghostly hand through the little hills they formed. She spoke dreamily about her
Muggle childhood, her parents, her sister, and everything else she could
remember. Draco watched her, and with a pleasant warm feeling, realized that he
loved her. He loved her both purely and carnally, both madly and with good
reason, both overpoweringly and quietly. All the thoughts that he had hidden
away came back to him. The thought of how her lips would feel against his, how
soft her belly would feel, and even vague thoughts about what it would be like
if they went to bed together. He used to understand why she was bullied and
teased, but now he wondered how every boy who saw her didn’t want to kiss the
small mole on her shoulder, or give her hair a light tug, or hold her as she
cried. He was jolted out of his thoughts when he felt a light splash on his
face. Lauren did have some control over water, after all, and was able to send
a tiny bit in Draco’s direction. He spluttered and retaliated with as big a
wave as he could muster, knowing that she wouldn’t be affected. She laughed
hysterically and the two continued splashing and swimming until long after all
the bubbles were gone and the water became tepid.
 
 
                 After the day at the baths, Draco and Lauren became closer
than either would have thought was possible. They spent even more time together
and even tried touching each other on the shoulder or arm to try and comfort
their grieving partner, but it was a tricky business and they usually failed
miserably. Draco dropped more hints about his horrific task, yet never told her
the full story. Lauren constantly comforted him after he admitted he had failed
an attempt, and she always encouraged him when he said he had a new idea. She
even taught him a powerful hex to put on a necklace that would automatically
kill whoever touched the piece of jewelry. Lauren’s conscious gave her a brief
pang, but it was nothing compared to her love for Draco and her hatred for
everyone at the school who had ever bullied or ignored her. She had no idea who
the hex would be aimed at, but there was no one she would feel sorry for.
 
                 Draco became infatuated with Lauren as time went on. He wanted
to know every detail about her. The thought of her as a living person began to
fascinate him, so one day, he went to the library and looked at all the
yearbooks that included her, finally coming to the memorial page from 1943. She
was smiling awkwardly in many of the pictures, and her eyes revealed the same
sadness and anger she had in death. There were a few candid shots that featured
the genuine smirk he had grown to love. There was also one of her with her
family, and he could instantly see why her sister was favored by everyone,
including their parents. Gloria Myrtle was everything Lauren wasn’t. She was
tall and slender with perfect skin. She obviously took great care with her
looks, judging by the dyed blonde hair, perfect make-up, and stylishly form-
fitting dress. She gave out a naturally friendly aura that took up nearly the
entire picture, leaving Lauren staring gloomily from the background with her
bad skin, huge glasses, and boxy figure. Draco tried to feel sorry for her, but
was too pleased with the fact that he had her all to himself. Nobody else would
want to spend their time with her, so he knew that he was safe in her
affections.
 
She saw him in the lavatory a few days later, hunched and sobbing over the
sink. It wasn’t their usual meeting time, so she knew that something had gone
wrong. She immediately floated over to him and tried to stroke his hair.
“Don’t, don’t” she soothed as he turned away and his sobs became louder than
ever. “Tell me what’s wrong; I can help you” she pleaded for what seemed like
the hundredth time, frustrated by his secrecy and by the knowledge that a
flying, immortal girl who knew every inch of Hogwarts would most likely be
invaluable to any task he may want to perform.
“No one can help me”, he replied simply, attempting a wry smile that made him
look all the more tragic. He babbled a bit more about having to do “it” soon
and if he didn’t someone would kill him. Lauren furrowed her eyebrows for a
moment, unable to think of a response. She didn’t have to, however, because a
moment later, Harry Potter of all people burst into the lavatory.
                 Myrtle watched the ensuing scene with a mixture of horror and
fascination. At the time, it was the most important thing she had ever
witnessed and no detail escaped her. Later, however, all she could remember was
her beloved Draco bleeding on the floor, some greasy teacher telling her to
leave the room, and someone wailing, “Murder in the bathroom” all around the
school. As she floated down the halls, terrifying the students, she realized
that she hated Potter as she had never hated anyone. She would have planned a
horrible revenge had she not been so worried about Draco. If she could haunt
Olive Hornby for separating her from some smarmy little pretty-boy with a slow
smile, she could certainly do something worse to the boy who separated her from
Draco. When she returned to the lavatory, Draco was gone. She was sure that he
was dead. She began to weep even harder at the thought that she had listened to
that sleazy teacher and hadn’t stayed with him. She could have told him that
she loved him. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, it would have been worth
it. She heard that only people who were afraid of death became ghosts and Draco
was so brave that he wouldn’t become a ghost; he would go straight to heaven,
or wherever normal people went, while she was stuck alone on Earth. She wept
continuously for days, unable to keep track of time. As a ghost, she didn’t
need any sleep, so all she did was cry and sometimes stare out the window,
immobile for hours on end. During the sixth day of her weeping, she heard
someone come in, but didn’t bother to turn around. No one deserved life if her
Draco was dead.
“Girl, why are you crying?”
                 Lauren turned at the sound of voice; it was Draco. He looked
more gaunt, tired and pale than ever, but he was her Draco and he was alive.
She flew towards him and made an awkward attempt at a hug, causing him to gasp
in shock at the iciness of her touch. She attempted an apology, but it was
indecipherable among her sobs of relief. He smiled and even tried to hug her
back.
“Look, Lauren” he said solemnly when she started to calm down, “After what
happened, I think it’s only fair that you know exactly what I’m doing. I don’t
want you to be caught up in something that you don’t fully understand. I
thought that you would be safe, but when that thing happened with Potter, I
knew that I was obviously wrong and if you ever get involved in anything to do
with me again; you have the right to know why.”
She nodded, trying to contain the grin that still plastered her face. They sat
down on the floor together and Draco tried to think of where to begin.
“Have you ever heard of The Dark Lord, or Voldemort, or You-Know-Who?”
“I’ve heardof him, I mean people talk about his being back sometimes. I don’t
know what that means though. He sounds bad, though, from what I gather.”
Draco almost smiled at her understatement and told her the whole story, not
daring to look at her face, though he shouldn’t have worried on that score.
Lauren’s eyes were filled with as much concern and love as ever. It all made so
much sense to her now and she respected him more than ever for having to do
such a difficult task as having to both kill Dumbledore and let these Death
Eater things into Hogwarts. She had no loved for the school that imprisoned
her, nor for the students who always bullied and teased her.
“So, you see” he concluded, “If I only kill Dumbledore and not let the Death
Eaters in, they’ll just put me in Azkaban and get a new headmaster. If I only
let the Death Eaters in and not kill Dumbledore, he’ll just kill them off, so I
need them to happen simultaneously.” He let out another sob and stared at the
floor dejectedly.
“Draco, just be safe” she murmured. “I can’t lose you. You’re all I have.”
“Lauren, I don’t know what will happen to me, but I swear I’ll try to come back
to you.”
“Will these Death Eaters destroy Hogwarts?” Lauren asked after Draco had
regained some of his composure.
“I really don’t know what they want to do”
“Because if they do, well, I can’t be confined in a place that doesn’t exist,
can I, so I can go wherever I choose and I can be with you.”
Draco smiled at her and allowed himself to believe her plan.
“That will be wonderful, darling.”
                 Draco and Lauren spent the next few weeks going over every
detail of his plan. She would come up with possible snags and he would come up
with ways of avoiding them or surmounting them. She taught him a few spells
from her day that had gone out of style, to add an extra element of surprise
just in case. She offered every scrap of knowledge she thought would be useful,
just as she had done with Tom. Draco broke down a few more times, saying that
he simply couldn’t do it and he should end himself. Lauren was always a
comfort, however, and when the final day came, he was almost confident.
 
                
 
 
                 Draco came to visit her three hours before the event was to
take place. They were awkward and formal with each other at first, both wanting
to express their feelings, without acknowledging the fact that Draco could
potentially be dead before the next day. Just as Lauren was about to start one
of her rambling, tear-soaked speeches, Draco interrupted her.
“Lauren, there’s something I want to do and if I don’t do it now, I’ll feel
terrible because I don’t know for sure if I’ll ever have this chance again.”
“Okay, Draco” Lauren replied, confused but curious.
“I don’t know if this is going to work, but…” his voice trailed off as he
leaned forward and gently kissed her ice cold lips. It was perfect for a
moment, until he got a little over-zealous and pushed his lips right through
hers. He pulled back and grunted with frustration and she giggled slightly.
“It might be easier if you let me try” she offered. “Just hold still”.
Their second attempt yielded far better results and after a few missteps and
brain freezes on Draco’s part, they were able to French kiss with surprising
success. Lauren was elated with their romantic developments, despite the fact
that she couldn’t feel a thing. She nestled her head on his shoulder as best
she could and began crying a little, out of sheer joy and of terror at the
thought of what might happen to her darling Draco. Draco stared ahead blankly,
trying to fight the sexual urges he was starting to feel. True, kissing her had
been weird to say the least, but it had been backed by more emotions; love,
understanding, fear, and desire, than any of his casual screws with Pansy had
been. Even his first time with Pansy, the night of the Yule Ball, was far less
exhilarating than one kiss with Lauren that they shared sitting on a dirty
bathroom floor.
“I’d give anything to be able to hold you” Draco murmured.
“I feel the same about you. Draco, let’s…” she searched for the proper word “be
together. Right now, so that no matter what happens…” her voice trailed off as
she began crying again.
“All right, darling” he whispered breathlessly, feeling himself start to get
hard at the thought.
He had imagined their sleeping together plenty of times since their afternoon
together in the bath, but imagined it as though she had been a living girl and
not a cold vapor who couldn’t even take her clothes off.
They tried it as though she were alive, but to no avail. Draco stripped off his
clothes and Lauren admired him. He was slender, but there was something
powerful about him that made her feel safe. He looked like he could kill a man
far more powerful than he. Draco got on top of her, after going through her a
few times, but her body was so cold that he simply couldn’t continue.
“I’ve got an idea” she told him, after he gave a blunt, embarrassed apology.
“Go stand by the sink and turn on the hot water tap”.
He did so and she started to scoop up the water in her hands and splash him
with it. He enjoyed the sensation and felt himself become hard again. Lauren
suppressed a giggle and continued bathing his crotch in warm water.
“You can touch yourself if that would help” Lauren suggested.
Draco did as she told and began stroking his throbbing member until he felt as
though he would burst.
“Lauren” he gasped “I’m about to…”
“Sit down” she commanded.
He complied, and she promptly sat on his lap. He came a second later,
accompanied by a sharp grunt and a thrust of his hips.
Lauren rolled off him and watched as he cleaned himself up.
“That was really good” he said breathlessly. “You’re wonderful, you know that?”
The two continued to talk quietly, exchanging promises and memories, until the
time came for him to leave. He got up slowly, wanting every second to last as
long as possible.
“Good luck, Draco. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known.” Lauren said,
extending her hand, which he shook solemnly.
“It’s been an honor, Lauren. If they dare to bully you again, remember that
Mudblood or not, you’re worth every student at this school combined.” He gave
her a small bow and left the room.
Lauren stared at the door in a state of wonder. She realized that she had
forgotten to tell him that she loved him, but she knew it didn’t matter. It was
clear how much they loved each other. It didn’t need words or labels. It didn’t
matter if they ever saw each other again. Even if he died while she remained in
the limbo she was trapped in, she knew that part of them would always be
together. They didn’t need to see or talk to each other again to still be in
love. She let herself drift out the window, allowing the cold wind to blow her
wherever it wanted. She didn’t mind.
                                        
                                    The End
 
 
 
 
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