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The Afterlife and Times of Myrtle Potter	By : NormanCharles Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 19696 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Okay, okay. I'm NOT JK Rowlings, I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money from writing these stories, I do it because it's fun and other people seem to enjoy what I write - the best of whom write review and tell me when I get it right and

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter 14: Myrtle�s Story

Harry stumbled up the steps
as fast as his shattered bones would allow, past Voldemort�s battered and
broken body and found dementors floating over the prone forms of Hermione and
Ron.

�No!� Harry screamed and he
threw his hands straight out in front of him and the nearest dementor, the one
hovering over Ron burst into flame and began to writhe in agony, Harry turned
his glare to the other dementor who quickly dove over the battlements and away
from the wall.

Harry ran to his two best
friends, �oh no, oh no, oh please by all that�s holy no!�

Neither Ron nor Hermione
were there anymore.� Their essences, their souls, everything that made them
special, unique, was gone.

�Oh what a pity, I would
have liked to have killed the dirt vein myself.�

It just wasn�t fair.�
Couldn�t that miserable snake shite just fuckin� die already?

Dobby appeared between
Harry and the dark lord again.

�You shall not harm Harry
Potter!�

�Harm him?� You pathetic
little vermin, I�ve destroyed him!� Just look.�

And Dobby did.

Harry Potter was seated on
the cold stone deck of the rampart, one knee bent, his splinted leg straight.�
He was cradling Hermione�s unresponsive head against his chest rocking back and
forth.� With tear filled eyes he looked up to Voldemort and simply said, �Kill
me.�

Myrtle saw that Harry was crushed;
drowning in grief for the loss of those he loved more than his own life.� He
was begging to die.� The little ghost didn�t even pause to think as she phased
into the stone deck, then came up beneath and then into Hermione�s body. �If
she could possess her soulless husk, make Harry believe he hadn�t actually lost
her; maybe, just maybe he would fight for his life, and hers.

As Riddle began to gloat she
became aware of her body, nearly overcome with the senses of a breathing flesh
and blood body after fifty years, and she croaked out �no!�

Harry�s disbelieving voice,
trembled with hope �Hermione?� he asked, begging for a miracle.

She saw Harry for the first
time through living eyes and whispered �On three hit him with a flame hex,
ready . . . one, two, three!�

Driven by and for the love of
a girl who was gone, Harry had beaten the latest dark lord.

Myrtle saw the vacant
expressions in the faces of all the Kissed and it pained her to know she
couldn�t just stay in Hermione�s body.� It wasn�t her life, it wasn�t her
body.� She had to give it back.� But give it back to whom?� When she left this
body there would be no one to live in it, it would be just another soulless shell.�
Surely it wouldn�t matter if she just, well, �visited� a bit longer?� She could
eat again!� Maybe she could finally actually experience the joy�s of physical
intimacy � Goddess knows she�d been watching other people enjoying each other
for fifty years, hadn�t she earned a turn?� Five decades of study and
observation convinced Myrtle that she�d be a phenomenal lover.� As things stood
at the moment she was a sixty-five year old virgin for Hecate�s sake!

She walked with Harry; it felt
good to walk, to feel solid ground beneath her feet again.� It was a joy to
breathe in and out, to feel the pulse points in her body, to feel warm.� That
was the worst thing about her non-corporeal form; she couldn�t really feel
as a ghost.

Harry was speaking with a
healer, asking about the dementor-kissed patients and another rediscovered feeling
came over her, fatigue.� When was the last time this body had rested?� She
recognized the Weasley girl even with her shorn head and thought her idea of
taking care of the Kissed was a good one.� She noticed a comfy looking stuffed
chair in a corner.� Maybe someone had brought it in so that visitors would have
a comfortable wait as their loved ones were tended to.� She sat, sinking into
the soft cushions and decided to �rest her eyes� for just a little while.

It was late afternoon when she
woke up.

Myrtle surveyed the room
through Hermione�s eyes and thought �this is as good a time as any I suppose; Goddess
knows I�ll hate leaving this body but . . .�

The spirit of Myrtle Frisbee
concentrated on phasing out of her host�s body, it had been easy to leave the
inferi; she�d just had to will herself away.� She closed Hermione's eyes and
concentrated on flowing out, willing herself to become just a phantom again �
and found that she couldn�t.� When she had been �driving� the inferi she�d been
aware of certain contact points, arms, legs, feet and hands, but from the
moment she had entered the dementor-kissed shell that had been Hermione Granger
she�d incorporated all of the girl�s senses. �It had been like moving into a
beautifully appointed, fully furnished home, and now she was locked in.� It
wasn�t that she didn�t want to leave, she wasn�t able to!�

For some inexplicable reason
Myrtle�s soul was trapped in Hermione Granger�s body.

She looked around in a panic
for Harry but couldn�t see him; she accidentally bumped into Healer Jones,
�have you seen Harry?�

�He went to the ministry, I
believe.�

She found the nearest
fireplace (Professor Flitwick�s office) and nearly fell over into the atrium of
the Ministry of Magic.� She saw the information booth and asked about Harry.

�Harry Potter?� a passing
intern asked.

�Yes� she said, breathless
�have you seen him?�

�Yes Miss, he was talking with
Judge Vance, the Chief Warlock � I saw them go out for dinner together, but the
judge came back alone.�

�Any idea where the judge goes
for dinner?�

�I�m just guessing mind you,
but, I�m thinking Diagon Alley?�

She thanked the young man and
headed for the floo connection to the Leaky Cauldron.

She managed to step out of the
fireplace in the popular pub a little more gracefully than she had before and
was immediately toasted.

�Lads� the voice was that of
Tom the barman, �I give you Miss Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age
or of any age if it comes to that!�

�Hear, hear!� and a tall glass
of something amber and effervescent and cool was pressed into her hands.

�Oh my,� she thought as she
held her first drink.� She gave it an experimental sip, and found it delicious.

�Longbow Cider, your favorite
Miss Granger� Tom winked.

She asked if anyone had seen
Harry but no one had, �funny though, there was a young man, looked summat like
our Harry, but he didn�t wear glasses and his hair was long, he tipped a few
and headed into the Alley.�

She �tipped a few� herself
and, properly fortified, went in search of her raven haired quarry.

As she stepped through the
entrance to Diagon Alley the noise nearly pushed her back out again.� The party
was in full swing, there seemed to be a continuous bombardment of fireworks
whizzing overhead and the potent potables flowed like water from every shop and
every ground floor apartment.

�Hermione?� asked a slightly
out of focus voice.

�Um, no, sorry, I just look a
little like her . . .� it wasn�t exactly a lie, she looked exactly like
Hermione, she just, well, wasn�t.

�Oh, sorry, here . . .� and
the slurred face grinned as he handed her a bottle of something.

�Um, thanks� she said, but
didn�t drink it, �what is it?�

The fuzzy lad, Seamus, looked
thoughtful for a moment then shrugged his shoulders and said �tis� green!�
before fumbling away.

She wasn�t that drunk that she
would try some strange potable in a green bottle, it just didn�t sound safe.�
She binned the bottle and went in search of more cider.

She had just scored her third
tall glass of chilled Woodpecker Cider when she turned and nearly collided with
Harry.

�Har-�

Harry shushed his bushy haired
best friend and said, �nope, sorry, you�ve got the wrong guy, I just look a bit
like him I�ve been told.�

�Thas� okay, someone said I
look just like that Granger girl, s� funny innit?� she said with a
conspiratorial wink.

His eyes seemed slightly out
of focus; Rowena�s Healing Jewel may have fixed his eyesight but it could still
be fogged by alcohol.

�Um, why don�t we get away
from all this noise and find out who we are?�

�Sounds great to me� Harry
agreed.

They passed out of Diagon
Alley and stumbled, mostly from trying to support each other, through the Leaky
Cauldron.

�Steady on there, now there�s
a happy couple, have a drink, here�s to youth and romance and all that goes
with it, drink up, drink up. . .�

They stumbled out the door
onto the equally raucous London street and one of them, they weren�t quite
sure, stuck out his or her wand, or maybe it was each other�s wands, well
anyway the Knight Bus banged into existence screeching to a halt sideways at
the entrance to the cauldron.

�Ernie, are you okay t�
drive?�

�Course I am, haven�t touched
a drop; but not too many other folks are abstainin� just now, takin� your life
in your hands t� be on the road tonight!�

Harry gave Stan the conductor
the address and they almost made it to their seats without stumbling.� The
world was spinning like floo travel, and Myrtle wasn�t sure if it was because
of all the alcohol they�d consumed or Ernie�s driving.

�Firs� stop Grim Old Place!� the conductor called out.

This was surprising to Myrtle
because she felt as though they were still moving.

The young couple stepped
carefully off the steps, trying to appear composed and sober, but when the
brunette stumbled on the cobblestone street and fell against Harry they both
snorted in the beginnings of a snorting, chortling jag.

�Number Twelve Grimauld Place!�
Harry called out and the townhouse appeared, elbowing numbers ten and fourteen
out of the way as it settled itself comfortably between them.� It took three
tries before they could make it to the top of the four steps and the landing.�
They burst through the front door and nearly knocked over the little old man
who was standing just behind the door.� They were about to apologize when the
man faded from sight and the mirth descended upon them anew.

�

She and Harry laughed
themselves out and found that they were nose to nose.�� She was backed up
against the wall while he had a hand on either side of her head, leaning in
toward her flushed face.� She cupped his hands in her own and whispered a brief
incantation that had two effects, first it neutralized the alcohol in their
blood and second it made him feel very warm, very welcome.� Myrtle knew
she could easily get lost in those deep emerald green eyes as they gravitated
toward each other.� Their lips touched, soft and moist, then she plastered her
soft warm body against his and pressed her lips tightly against his.� She felt
the tip of his tongue touch her lips, seeking entry and she parted her lips
slightly so that he could touch her teeth with the tip of his tongue.� She
opened herself up further and soon they were tongue wrestling as she worked the
buttons on his shirt.� She made a frantic noise as the buttons frustrated her
and she simply pulled the shirt open popping half the buttons in her impatience
to feel skin.

She loved the feel of his hand
in her hair, and the other caressing her back and side.� But she wanted those
hands somewhere else just now.� She pulled her shirttail out of her skirt and
directed his hand under the fabric, placing it on the underside of her sheer
bra.

�I don�t think� he started to
say when she stopped him with a quick passionate kiss.

�Don�t think, feel� she
insisted as she brought his other hand down to rest on her other breast, and
then proceeded to try to find his tonsils.

She pulled back just long
enough to say �bedroom, now!�

He picked her up and nearly
ran to the second floor master where he placed her gently down on the
king-sized mattress.� Neither one saw the door close silently behind them.� Nor
did either one of them register that the room was lit by the soft light of the
ever-lit� candles.� They only had eyes, lips, fingertips and tongues for each other.

�I love you Herm � mumph� he
said as she kissed him roundly.

�I will always love you Harry�
she countered.

She was lying atop him, her
head over his left shoulder breathing heavily against his neck while his hand
roamed over her back, coming to rest on her bum.� She thrust her hips against
him eliciting an impressive response as �little Harry� rose to the occasion.

They both groaned at the
sensations.� Harry found the button and zipper on the side of her skirt and was
able unfasten then unzip same which allowed him to push the skirt over her
knickers-clad bum.� The sensible cotton briefs were soft to his touch and he
massaged her nicely rounded buttocks for a while as she continued to grind
against him.� She groaned again as he slipped his fingers under the elastic
waistband to caress her warm, pliant skin.

�Don�t move my love� she
insisted as she rolled off him so that she could divest herself of her skirt
and knickers, she snuggled up to his side so that she could trace his hardness
through his trousers.� She unbuttoned, then unzipped the interfering garment
then tugged at the sides of his boxers and slacks.� He got the hint and bowed
slightly up so that she could clear his bum and free his rather impressive
erection from its durance vile.

They were more than a little
impatient so the concept of unlacing shoes escaped them.� Oh well, all she really
needed to do was to pull him over her � his legs could stay together, hers
needed room to spread.

With one smooth movement she
slid her leg over his recumbent form and straddled his waist; she had to raise
up as high as she could on her knees to place the tip of his member at her
warm, wet entrance, then she pushed back, welcoming the sting of her first
penetration, welcoming him into her inner folds.� They both groaned as they
bottomed out, pubic bones touching.

She realized that this was
what she had been existing for from the time she first saw him, to join their
hearts, their bodies, their magic.� She squeezed his length with the muscles of
her abdomen as she rose up then came crashing down on him again, and again and
again.�

He felt the familiar pressure
building from the base of his erection and grabbed her hips, holding her
slightly up as he took the initiative and began pistoning from below.� The
rhythm of their smack, smack, smacking and his animalistic grunts harmonized
with her continuously rising keening wail until they both exploded in a mutual,
magical orgasm that literally rocked their world.

The simultaneous release of
hormones, adoration and soul-binding enchantments overwhelmed them and she
leaned forward to sprawl comfortably over him, her head on his chest, her legs
still straddling his. Comfortably, obscenely, decently lying there with Harry
still snug within her she sighed and drifted off to sleep.

She woke the next morning to
the delicious feeling of Harry, still sleeping mind you, slowly penetrating
her, stroking a few inches in and out; moving purely by instinct.

�Oh Hecate, let us wake every
morning like this I pray!�

They had made love yet again
that morning, then, as she was alone in the shower she was overcome by guilt
and shame, she was deceiving the man she loved and it was breaking her heart.�
She collapsed in tears.� She was sitting on the shower floor, crying when Harry
found her.� She could have told him the truth then, but she let herself be
soothed and calmed by him and made love to him again.

Later that morning they were
introduced to Meacham, and soon began experiencing life as a couple.� They
explored Harry�s house, Myrtle was thrilled to find the attic studio, and had
to redirect Harry�s curiosity about her dance lessons.� Hermione didn�t dance.

They had made love twice that
afternoon, once in a guest bedroom and once in the library, who would have
thought Harry had it in him to satisfy her bibliophile urges . . .

It was a perfect day until
they stepped outside and it was waiting for them.

�

The lone dementor.

Harry didn�t recognize it at
first, but Myrtle did.� It was the same soul sucking demon that had taken Hermione.�
Now it wanted her.

Then that first trip to
Gringotts, and the revelation that she and Harry were mate-bonded; as good as
married in Goblin society.� Harry had begun to call her �Mrs. Potter,� and he
became Mrs. Potter�s mister.

That afternoon they were in
Madame Malkin�s and he had proposed, out of the blue, and Myrtle became
enmeshed even more deeply in the lie.� She could have said no, she should have
said no but there was no denying the pleading in his eyes.� Of course she had
said yes.

She almost told him that
evening, as they cuddled on the library couch; instead she gave into her sexual
urges, several times that night.

She had met Hermione's parents
the next day and was a little saddened that they didn�t know they�d lost their
little girl.� Once or twice she�d almost confided in Mrs. Granger, she of the
discerning eye.

�Lemon in your tea dear;�
she�d asked, �haven�t you always preferred milk?�

�Outside in dear,� Mrs.
Granger had admonished, �the outside fork for your salad.�

At the end of the day (which
didn�t come until the next day) she�d been treated like a true daughter,
something that she hadn�t experienced in her original short lifetime.

They had just returned from
the Grangers and settled into the couch for a nice little read and nap when
she�d been visited by Cliodna.

Harry had gone to sleep and
Myrtle had rested her head on the comfy couch pillows when Cliodna, the spirit
of the Goddess of the afterlife had come to her.

�Myrtle Frisbee,� the Goddess
had said, not unkindly, �you must forego your deception.�

Myrtle looked around to make
sure she was still in her library, that Harry was still asleep with his head in
her lap.

�He is receiving a visitor of
his own now and you must choose.�

�What must I choose Goddess?�
she asked, more than a little frightened.

�You must choose the manner in
which you will break this good man�s heart.�

Harry sat up screaming.

Harry had known, perhaps all
along that he wasn�t really with Hermione, and he had just replaced the
engagement ring on Myrtle�s finger.

�I�ve come to love you, really
love you over these past few days Mrs. Potter, Mrs. Myrtle Potter,� he
smiled weakly, �but she�s out there and if there�s anything I can do to
help her I�ve got to try.� Please understand� as he entreated a single tear
traced down his cheek.

Myrtle sobbed and nodded her
head to show she understood.

He removed the Potter and
Black family rings and placed them in her hands.

�Meacham,� he called silently.

�Yes sir?�

�Meacham, can you take
dictation?�

�Yes sir� he replied and
produced a quill and parchment.

�I Harry James Potter, being
of sound mind and body, to bestow upon my Mate-bonded spouse, Hermione Jane
Potter, all my worldly goods and titles in the event of my untimely demise.� If
I am not dead, but found to be no longer capable of handling my own affairs my
wife shall hold from this day forth full power of attorney to carry on in my
stead.� This I vow on my magic and my life.�

Myrtle�s eyes grew wide at
this, �why?�

�Because I know what I must
do, Mrs. Potter� he said with a sad smile, �and I want you well looked after.�

�Harry, you�re frightening
your wife,� she said, nervously �what are you thinking of doing now?�

�That dementor; the one that�s
been following us?� he asked.

�It�s the same one that kissed
Hermione� she answered.

He nodded �somehow Hermione is
still there, and I�m going in after her.� One way or another we�re going to be together
and you will have the life that was stolen from you so long ago.�

�Harry NOOOOO!� she shrieked
as he pointed his wand and said �stupefy.�

He laid her gently on the
couch, kissed her goodbye and went out of the library, through the kitchen, out
the carriage house and into the alley where he knew a dementor waited for him.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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The Afterlife and Times of Myrtle Potter