P--poems?! Oh right.

Cam looked at the ghost in the most kindest expression he could--a look which made odd-looking--a Cam-ish look yes. He took a deeeeeeeeep breath and glanced at Anna. This by NO means meant he liked Myrtle in ANY way. He was doing this all for her in the first place, plus, he couldn't just... waste his poem he thought up of. Now who was going to be first... He looked at Jack. Eh.

Well if he did it sooner, it would've been easier right? RIGHT! Cam stepped up and waved at her. "Haiaiiaiaiaia Myrtle. Didja know you're a very..." he gulped and stared at her right in the face, "an EXTREEEEMLY pretty girl. You know, you should model for Ghost Weekly!" Ghost Weekly, he made the whole thing up. "Soooo I made like a poem for you!"

Here goes. Ughhh

Guh. WHAT IF SHE DIDN'T LIKEIT?! Nontheless, he brought two extra poems with him. Yup so he was toterrly ready.

And he bowed in front of her, trying his best to be all gentleman like. EW.

"Very good, Tipps... We are waiting for Mr. Morgan and Mr. Mined to arrive; in the interim, please feel free to get started... It seems my store of troll bogeys has been infested with nargle eggs. I would like you to start sifting carefully through them and removing the nargles and nargle eggs. You will not use magic." He summoned over a massive jar -- practically big enough for the boy himself to fit into -- and placed it on a work table in front of Tipps. The jar was translucent and appeared to be filled with lumpy, gooey, olive coloured glop, with tiny specks of dirt, an occasional trapped gnat, bits of nostril nair and other assorted crud suspended in it. Kazimeriz handed Tipps a small tray on which there was a magnifying glass, a pair of tweezers, and a tiny toothpick. "Take care not to damage them-- I can use them for other potions if they are alive and unbroken." With that, he turned to the Yellow Boy.

"Indeed, Mr. Morgan is quite late to the party. In the interim, you may assist Tipps in his search for nargles and nargle eggs. And while you do, you might consider the value of discretion when one has asked to keep a confidence, lest you remain the very embodiment of The Human Snitch for all eternity." Kazimeriz glared at the boy, then smirked. "And keep your tears out of my troll bogeys, Kettleburn. Those aren't easy to obtain and I would hate to have to send you troll hunting in the forest to replace them." His expression indicated he wouldn't hate this. Not. one. bit.

"Excellent job, students. I am sure a party would be just what Myrtle would enjoy, and may help to ellicit her help." Kazimeriz nodded.

"Myrtle, my dear! You look positively radiant. It has been far too long since last we spoke." Kazimeriz said, bowing to the young ghost. "We are grateful that you could make it to our little engagement. Pray tell, what is new in the spirit world?" He knew Myrtle loved to gossip, and hoped that this would loosen her tongue.

Aislynn was glad that Professor Kazimeriz approved of the party. She went to another table and set up a cauldron (one that was thoroughly cleaned) and had some butterbeer in it and then a couple of plates of chocoballs, pumpkin pasties, and cauldron cakes. She had some sparkling lights hovering above them. She knew Myrtle wouldn't care, but thought the students might enjoy it.

She turned up the music a bit more. She hoped some of the students might dance. It was after all a party.

Then in a blink of an eye,Myrtle was here. He zoomed to Ced and the other boys. He's glad that he already has a poem for Myrtle but, What?Did they need it to read it out loud or what else if Ced just give her his poem. He hope that the others will like his poem especially Myrtle. "Oh Hey! Myrtle " He shout happily. The center of attraction had arrived, So the party can start now, A lot of excitements..

Myrtle liked what she was hearing, yes she did. She was amazing, beautiful, and had her own throne (which she promptly floated into, of course. It sure beat the toilet seats in the girls' loo.).

What could be better? Being read poetryyyy by some cuuuuute boysssssss of course!

The pearly ghostie fluttered her eyelashes and waved a transparent hanky at the first boy to read to her. Sure, his poem didn't rhyme but he did make an effort and he did agree that she should model for Ghost Weekly. Win!

"How lovelyyyy a poemmm," Myrtle encouraged him. "Who's next? Who can compete with that non-rhyming love poem?"

She hovered a bit above her throne and blushed at the sight of THEEEE Sir Professorman Valon Kazimeriz. He had been like, her age when that basilisk attacked the school, right? Myrtle was just blushing at the thought of a young, dapper Kazimeriz.

*dreamy sigh*

"Nothing is new in the Spirittttttt Worrrrrrld," she purred at the man. *flick flick the pigtails* "I do wish I could go back to the library though -- I used to meet Tom Riddle there allll the timeeee." Now she was bragging. "And there's lotsa poetry in the library."

Myrtle fluttered her eyelashes at the potions professor some more and then swirled around in her throne to glance at the boys. Hint, hint, lotsa poetry, hint hint.

"Keep it down, Miss Jolie- this IS a place of academics, not a dance hall." Kazimeriz warned.

"Miss Myrtle, one of my students has been telling us that you heard an interesting sound down at the lake, and it appears our floodwaters are being controlled by spells... spells that did not seem to come from a wizard's wand, but rather by some sort of alternative magic... I would bet that an informed, clever young lady like yourself would know what this is all about...?" He had his suspicions but waited to see what Myrtle would say.

Anna stood still and quiet, watching as everything started to happen all at once. A few other students had arrived, and Cam had even recited a short poem to Myrtle. Myrtle seemed pleased, though, so Anna was happy that things seemed to be going well. When, though, would be a good moment to ask about the wailing creature down at the lake? Just as that thought crossed her mind, Professor Kazimeriz spoke up and questioned Myrtle about the interesting sounds down at the lake. Anna's eyes flickered from the professor to the ghost, and she waited to see what Myrtle would have to say.

Daniel spaced away from Anna and faced Myrtle. She was ever excited than the last time he had seen her. When was the last time he had seen her?

It was in the last term, in class, with the Baron.

Oh, well. He might as well use his charm on her to make her stay in for the questioning.

"How are you doing sweet Myrtle? You seem different today? Your eyes are a bright as the sun and does smile are as great as daylight. How could anyone have left that unnoticed?" he said in a chivalrous tone. Thanks to Professor Dumont's muggle books...

Paris walked into the potions lab with her potions kit in hand. She was running out of her headache potion and her skin cream and now was as good a time as any to brew some more.

She found an empty bench and got right to work. She used her wand to start a low flame under her cauldron. If she boiled her belladonna in her headache potion it would turn toxic and it could be poisonous. And poisoning herself was not on her agenda. It made you turn all splotchy and itchy looking. She shook her head as she started pulling ingredients out of her potions kit. Her chilled gillyweed was going in her skin cream. She had stumbled across adding gillyweed to her cream when she accidentally dropped some the last time she was making her cream. The stuff kept the pores small. She was angry at herself that she didn't realize that before. She started slicing up some horned slugs. It was good for pimples and other face blemishes, but the nasty things were a pain to slice. It was better to slice them live than to kill them and slice them and the task made Paris want to vomit.

Diane tagged along a lot later than the rest and in her own calm manner. She felt rather bad for the ghost girl. Maybe an odd omen but, to be quite honest, all of this felt like it would very likely burst into their faces. She pondered they would need decorations, and food, but the kitchen was flooded and she did not know what ghost ate. She did not know if this would work, but the students knew Myrtle more than she did... In any case, it sounded like the others had conjured some things and the professor was playing along. Just in case, she stood silently and curious-looking by the side of the professor.

Copernicus stared at Kazimeriz. The man had ONCE been one of Cope's favorites, but now he was just a mean nasty man who punished students for his own foibles and whose sense of fair play extended only to students so long as they amused him. Selfish. Cruel. Hairy.

"I'm happy to assist you, Professor," he scrubbed at his face, but he was awfully bold courtesy of Plymouth's potion. "But I think it is unfair to force someone to keep a secret against their will, provide them with an unproved potion, and then punish them for the effects of the potion, when neither taking the potion or keeping the secret were their decision." And ugh. He was yellow and feathery and Plymouth was there and would make him cry again.

"You could finish my potion, or start the potion that will cure me, if you wanted. I have to do troll bogies. Punished because I volunteered in class, you know."

At this, Kazimeriz could not help but laugh. "You have chutzpah, Kettleburn... I like it. Daring to speak your mind in spite of your current condition -- that's almost Gryffindor of you in your courage! But you misunderstand. You are not being punished for volunteering in class-- Mr. Morgan arrives as we speak to cure your tears. "

"Also, your physical condition is completely your fault. If you had an issue with keeping my confidence, you should have addressed it with me, privately. Qui tacet consentire videtur, Mr. Kettleburn. You did not object when I asked for your discretion, and so I expected you to uphold your word as a gentleman. Your failure to do so is he reason you are adorned to look like a snitch, for a man who cannot keep a secret is indeed a snitch in the truest sense of the word. You must learn this lesson, and learn it well." Kazimeriz eyed the boy, his expression stern yet somehow... grandfatherly.

Kazimeriz turned his attention to Morgan, who had entered the lab. His eyes diverted momentarily to the 'party snacks' the others had set out... Chocoballs and the like. Not only was this a poor idea in a potions lab, but he had a feeling Myrtle was not going to love the insensitivity of students who failed to set out food that was suited to her ghostly condition. But first... he must deal with Morgan.


"No spying was called for, Mr. Morgan-- this is all a misunderstanding and it is between Mr. Kettleburn and myself. You owe him a calming draught, properly prepared, to rid him of his despondant attitude. Also, for your rash behavior in class, you owe me some of your time. Mr. Tipps is busy searching for nargles in the troll bogeys... You may join him in this endeavour while you contemplate the folly of your actions."

Kazimeriz turned back to the other students in lab, eyeing Greenwood for a moment. "Greenwood. What are you working on today?" he asked before turning back to the others.

"The food. It is... too fresh for ghostly consumption." he whispered to the group of floodwater researchers. Quick... before Myrtle has a fit... he thought.

Myrtle waved at the few shy boys waiting to read her poetry and then turned back around again to flirt talk with Kazi.

"I diiiiiiid hear sounds but they weren't interesting," the ghost flicked a pigtail. An informed, clever young lady like yourself - heeeehee he knew Myrtle all right. She knew it allllll.

"Well." Myrtle pursed her lips and waited for an audience. "I don't know what all the whining and crying is about, but I have a good ideaa of it alllllllll." And look, they were coming to her instead of Barty!

Myrtle looked over one shoulder and then the other to make sure everyone was giving HER their undivided attention. "It sounds like Mermish to me."

And there, she'd given them her attention so now she needed some.

"Oh OH why thaaaank you, you little Gryffindork you." Myrtle fluttered her eyelashes at the boy and clasped her hands under her chin. "Do you have a poem for me?"

??????


Plymouth shrugged at Kazimeriz. He just wasn't speaking to Plymouth today. It really might has well have been Troll. Or Mermanish. Plymouth patted his arm again. Maybe he was having a slightly senile day? Plymouth's grandmother had them most days, so he knew the signs. "I'll hang out with you, Sir. Yes Sir. Anytime you want. But after I defeather my Crybaby stepbrother, okay? You can tell me more of those stories."

It's possible that Plymouth didn't quite realize he was in trouble.



Cough. "Not always, you don't. You should hush, Pern. Just hush. Let Momma Plymouth fix you up and then ... you can ... be on your merry way." Plymouth didn't WANT TO BREW the potion, but, he would. He started with the bulbs since that was what took him so long in the first place.

"Tell me about spying? Did you get a mustache?" Plymouth started the nuzzling process for the bouncing bulbs. It was like a ceremony before he could cut their tips off.

At last, Myrtle answered, Things are getting clearer now. What Myrtle heard is something mysterious and very interesting. Myrtle always hear cryings and whining around the castle. First, when they are in the boy's bathroom, Second, when they are at the lake... "So Myrtle, what's your idea about all that cryings and whines?", He asked politely..

"A poem." exclaimed Daniel as he came face to face with the ghost. "Sure thing, I have a poem just for you and here it is." showing her a parchment where he wrote the poem from the book.

"But my dear, sweet Myrtle, before I read you a poem that equates your beauty, can you elaborate on the Mermish sound that you have heard?'' he said looking as if he was begging for more attention.

It was the first time Grace saw a ghost and she just loved it! A ghost was definately something to write and talk about to Grace, which she looked forward to doing. Now seeing Myrtle better, she couldn't understand why people called her "Moaning and boring". She seemed very lively and sweet. Grace was dying to talk to her about everything about herself, but obviously this wasn't the time. She just bounced on her feet with excitement and impatience; trying not to talk while boys read their poems.

Grace just smiled sweetly at her when she talked about that suspicious noise, even stopped bouncing, giving full attention to her. She loved attention, this ghost did. And it was going to work, Grace thought.

Troll bogeys? How fantastic and lovely of the old man to provide such a hygienic and enjoyable task... not. Modern day Dumbledore, Hugh Hefner AND MAGGIE THATCHER! He was gonna be stealing their milk next. Varius could sense it!

As if the thought wasn't bad enough, the jar in which the bogeys were encased was bigger than friggin him! Surely there was healthy and safety laws against this? Act 345: One shall not work with jars bigger than ones person!

And nargles? What were nargles? He would soon have to find out. Pulling over a stool, he ascended himself up, reached an arm in the goo and lifted it out of the jar. Taking the BARF smelly BARF gross BARF slimey BARF sticky BARF troll BARFBARF bogeys INFINITEBARF, he placed it on a nearby worksurface and began sifting through the horrible substance. The smell was diabolical too!!!

He found a couple of small balls... it looked like dirt, but it had to be these nargle egg things, right? He began placing them to the side but he had still saw no sign of the actual nargles.

Once the initial grossness had left him and he became used to the smell, the task started to become boring. He had about 15 'eggs' lying at the side of the table but no nargles yet...

Then creativity hit him. He needed some funnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

He began taking the troll bogeys and sticking it together, moulding it into a shape. He was sculpting! Whilst also searching for nargles, of course. "That can be the earsss and the nose can come out like thattt," he said to himself getting to work, "Oh! Another nargle egg!"

When he finished his sculpting it looked something likah this:



Now Kazi was a modern day Hugh Hefner, Dumbledore, Margaret Thatcher AND YODA!

Kazimeriz sighed. "Your task is not to defeather your brother. You are merely to brew a successful calming draught so he will stop weeping like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Then, you may help with the nargles in the troll bogeys." Smirking, he ambled off.

"Myrtle, are you sure you have a good idea about it? After all, there is probably nothing to worry over. And amazing, experienced minds have been working over the situation to no avail... Are you saying that your own knowledge surpasses theirs, you are smarter than they? If so, perhaps you could prove your cleverness by sharing a bit of what you claim to know..." Kazimeriz said, hoping that it would appeal to her Ravenclaw tendencies. Ravenclaws, in his experience, loved exhibiting their sharp minds.

"I just TOLDDDDDDD you," Myrtle spun around and glared at the Hufflepuff from earlier. He needed to clean his ears out with something. He also needed to learn how to rhyme his poetry.

"You have to read it to me OUT LOUD," Myrtle whirled on the next boy. "And I told you all already, I don't speak Mermish. It's a buncha whining and moaning to me."

And she was the expert on moaning and moping, after all.

Now even Kazimeriz was doubting her?! Wait....wait a minute... was he doubting her or was he CHALLENGING her KNOWLEDGE?!

*gasp* It was all a trick! This was no Unofficial Hogwarts Dead Poet Society Inter-House Quest For Myrtle's Heart First Annual Love-Poem Writing Competition! It was just a get-together to find out more about the whiner in the lake!

"ExcUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuseeeee ME," Myrtle snapped, floating up to hover angrily over Kazi's head. "Of COURSE my knowledge surpasses everyone else's here. I LIVED in that Lake for YEARS and YEARS I'll have you know."

She angrily flicked a pigtail over each shoulder and planted her hands on her hips. "And if I've said it once I've said it a bajillion times: the whining in the lake is MERMISH! If you want to know what it says then go to the LIBRARY and check out a DICTIONARY!"

And she was done. With one last loud, superior sniffle, the angsty ghost zoomed through the nearest boy and disappeared out the wall. Maybe she would just go to the library herself to find some real, DECENT poetry!

Aislynn could tell Myrtle was losing interest. She hid in the shadows, where no one could see her. She quickly grabbed some made Polyjuice Potion and she used a hair from Colin McKenzie, the Quidditch player, she had from when she hugged him at the Autograph tent. She put the hair in the potion, transformed her clothes and then took a drink. She immediately transformed.

"Myrtle wait!!!!" Aislynn was shocked at how deep her voice was as she spoke in Chase's booming voice.

As Chase she walked to where Myrtle had vanished, hopefully she heard him just in time. "Oh fair Myrtle--"

Quote:

Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And Summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And oft' is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd: But thy eternal Summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Aislynn felt uncomfortable. It was weird being a man and so tall! She stood there awkwardly, but hopefully it was a believable performace.

Copernicus helped with the potion as much as possible considering he occasionally got offended on behalf of the ingredients and had to cry it out. "A mustache? No... no he just wanted me to let him know when certain people were doing things they shouldn't. But he cast a SPELL on me. I just went to talk to him because he wanted to know about how Tino hurt Miss Hopton and Celandine." He sniffled.