A/N: It's been ages since I've written anything to post here, but I opened up an old file and found the beginnings of this story. I figured it would be fun to finish it. This is my perspective of what our dear friend Moaning Myrtle would have said to those of us who still lived on after her death. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nothing owned, nothing earned. Entertainment purposes only! Thanks!

Memoir of a Moaner

By: Rae Reneau

-A "Harry Potter" Fanfic-

"Oh Harry, if you die down there, you're welcome to share my toilet," I said with a giggle, grinning at him as he took the plunge down the Chamber of Secrets.

It wasn't as if I really wanted him to die, you know. He's Harry Potter, after all. But he was going to do something so dangerous and could have died. I thought I ought to share with him if he did manage to die.

The thing is, it's so hard to live your afterlife in the girl's bathroom. You see, I was upset when Olive made fun of me, but I wasn't crying in the bathroom because I thought I would die. I just couldn't bear to have her make fun of me after all that she'd done already.

My mother named me Myrtle after the trees. I wore these bottle-cap glasses and pigtails most of the time, and I was quite happy being a witch. In fact, my parents were Muggles. They never trusted the rest of the magical world after I died. I know my cousin showed magical powers as well, but my parents were the ones who made sure he never knew what that meant.

They told his parents what happened to me. My aunt was horrified and refused to even consider it when Geoff got his letter. And my uncle argued with her, but she was the one who made the final decision.

Geoff never even got to find out what being a wizard was like.

I loved being a witch. It's amazing to have magic like that, and no one would have ever believed me had I told them. But I died, and all my friends back home in Staffordshire were told there was a hiking accident. There wasn't even a funeral because my parents simply shut down.

Headmaster Dippet was kind enough to let my parents come and visit the school. They were so angry they would barely listen to him tell what happened to me. Even Professor McGonagall couldn't convince them to listen, and so the only thing that was left was to bring them to the girl's bathroom.

I was already dead and buried. You know, I visited my body. It was creepy but oh-so-interesting to see me. Did my hair really look that limp? Were my glasses really that large on my face? I didn't realize quite how I'd looked until I died. Then I saw myself. And I was glad to be a ghost. Ghosts don't have to worry how they look. We're supposed to be startling, after all.

And that's what I did to Mum. She walked right into the bathroom. Headmaster Dippet had warned my parents that I was still... around. They didn't really understand until they came inside.

It's not my fault I was killed in a bathroom! The girl's lavatory, such a lovely, clean place to die. And all I can do is float around that bloody u-bend all day. No one comes to visit, and no one likes to talk to me. None of the other ghosts ever come to visit. Mum ran screaming from the room when I floated out of the toilet.

It's really a rather clean toilet. None of the nasty, living girls come in to use my bathroom. Not since that horrible incident with the Chamber. That Hermione Granger, though, she's different. Not afraid of me or my moaning. I don't know what to think of her, and then she brought boys into my lavatory!

But that's not the point. Mum screamed when she saw my ghost self. I tried to talk to her, but she ran away from me. Dad was rather pale, too. I suppose we almost looked related then. Him ghost white and me a ghost. But he stayed long enough to talk to me. I still remember what he said through trembling lips.

"Myrtie?" He called me by my old nickname.

"Yes, Dad?" I said, knowing enough not to go near him when I was a ghost. He probably wouldn't handle the cold chills I'd cause.

He took a tentative step toward me and then pulled back to stand next to Headmaster Dippet and Professor McGonagall. "Myrtle," he started again after swallowing hard, "is that really you?"

"It's me, Dad," I told him, hanging listlessly above my toilet. Being a ghost had already changed part of my character. I was constantly angry and depressed.

He nodded at me and asked, "How-how are you, honey?"

I glared at him and said, "I'm dead. How are you?"

Headmaster Dippet coughed, an obvious attempt to remind me to be polite.

But really, why should I? I died, for heaven's sake! And people make fun of me for it all the time. It's not like I have much else to do, and I don't have to answer to anyone as a ghost. But then again, I do have to answer to the headmaster or else he has the authority to cast me out. And really, where would I go without my u-bend?

"I'm fine," I said lamely.

Dad nodded again. "Your mother," he started and paused. I knew what he meant. She couldn't handle magic when I was alive. Why had anyone thought she'd be okay with it now that I'd died from it? "She's not feeling well."

Sensing the tension, Headmaster Dippet stepped forward and said, "When she's feeling better, perhaps you both might care to come back and visit Myrtle again?" He gestured to the door of the bathroom.

Dad nodded quickly, face awash with relief. He looked back at me as he got to the door. "We'll be back, Myrtle," he promised me.

They never came back.

I don't blame them. Mum couldn't take the magical world I'd entered, and she became depressed. I heard from Headmaster Dippet and then Headmaster Dumbledore what happened to my parents and the rest of my family. Now they're all gone.

I don't even blame that yellow-eyed monster that killed me. I would never have died if I hadn't been in the bathroom, and the only reason I was there was cause of Olive.

Do you know what she did? I'll tell you. She was one of my best friends. We'd known each other since we were children, and we were both in Ravenclaw together. She knew all my secrets, and I knew all of hers. But that day she managed to kill our friendship.

I was walking to class with Tommy Newberry, another muggleborn from Hufflepuff. Tommy was just so handsome, you know. Bright green eyes, freckled face, round cheeks. He was so tall, too! And his hair was so brown. I loved to look at him. And he was a lovely friend. But I'd started to like him more, and I told Olive about it.

I never knew she liked Tommy. Honest I didn't. And I didn't mean to make her mad, but she was jealous when she saw us walking together. He was so kind and even carried my books for me.

Olive was always the prettiest. We never argued about that. She had straight blond hair and perfect eyes. She never wore glasses and had such beautiful teeth. Not to mention her figure. I always looked dowdy compared to Olive.

She got so mad she came stalking right up to us and told Tommy everything. Well, not everything. She just told him I was in love with him and was hoping he'd ask me to Hogsmeade next weekend and was he going to do that? I almost died then and there.

And Tommy almost shoved my books back in my hands trying to get away from me. That was enough of a rejection, but Olive made it worse. By the end of supper, everyone knew what had happened. All my friends were sitting with Olive and laughing at me. I heard people whispering about it from Slytherin house, even! What indignity! How could a friend do such a thing?

So I ran away. And that's how I ended up in the bathroom when that nasty Tom Riddle brought out his pet.

But I heard about Olive through the grapevine. In seventh year, I haunted her. I made an exception and chose to haunt the Ravenclaw common room and dorms where I could annoy her the most. She was always afraid of me and refused to answer my taunts.

And then I heard that Tommy asked her to marry him sometime after they graduated from Hogwarts. Oh, that made me mad! I almost considered haunting their house, but by that point, Headmaster Dumbledore made me promise to stay in the castle. I think he knew what had happened and was trying to keep me away from Olive.

I got my justice, though. Olive died in a car wreck when Tommy was driving her away from his family's home one Christmas evening. It didn't feel as nice as I thought it would, though. Maybe it's because I know death isn't quite as exciting as it's thought to be.

Sure, if you're like me, you can be a ghost and haunt your old home or something. But that does get old. Staying in one place can be so tedious, you know. And let's face it, the afterlife in a girl's lavatory isn't the most glamorous. The sound of the plumbing and the toilets flushing is rather disgusting, and you should see the inside of my u-bend! The house elves could really do a better job cleaning.

But, my dear, that's my story. I'm not even sure why I'm a ghost anymore. Olive's been dead many years now. No one remembers who I was. Now I'm just Moaning Myrtle. And people don't think I used to have a family or a life. It makes me wonder sometimes just how long I'll go on like this.

I'm not sure if I want to be a ghost forever.

But... if you die and turn into a ghost, you can share my toilet, too.

-The End-

A/N: I know it's silly, but I enjoyed it. Let me know what you think of it. And, for anyone wondering, I'm working on a chaptered HP fic that I may or may not post here. I'm debating about it, but it should be a more original twist on a 'Sirius returns' type of fic. Anyone interested in reading something like that? Feel free to let me know!

Until next time...