Moaning Myrtle and the Yellow Eyes (4)

He let out a long breath, feeling that the back of his robes was already soaked through with cold sweat.

He turned and walked to Hermione's cubicle door, lowering his voice. "It's done."

The door opened a crack, revealing Hermione's face. Her eyes were red—not from crying, but from laughing—and there was still a bite mark on her lip.

"You heard that?" Harry's voice carried a trace of gritted-teeth fury. "She called me a 'pretty boy' and said I 'smelled as delicious as cream'?"

Hermione's mouth twitched violently. Then she ducked back into the cubicle, and the door slammed shut with a bang.

A burst of loud, no-longer-suppressible laughter erupted from inside.

Ron laughed the loudest, as if he were using it to avenge the humiliation of being rejected by Moaning Myrtle earlier. "Cream! Delicious! Hahahahaha—"

Hermione's voice came in broken bursts amid the laughter. "Pretty boy—I—I can't—"

Harry stood outside the door, his face red all the way down to his neck. He clenched his fists and took several deep breaths before managing not to kick the cubicle door open.

"Are you done laughing?" His voice was muffled, carrying the stubbornness of someone saying, "I know what you're laughing about, but I'm pretending I don't."

The laughter inside continued for another ten seconds or so before slowly, bit by bit, fading into the occasional sniffle and stifled groan.

The door opened again, and Hermione and Ron came out. Both had red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks from laughter on their faces, looking as though they had just had a good cry.

Ron walked up to Harry, extended a hand, and solemnly patted him on the shoulder.

"Good mate," he said. His voice still trembled with the aftershocks of laughter, but his tone was serious. "You've rendered great service today. For