Moaning Myrtle: Hermione, When You Die, Let's Go Watch Boys Shower Together

Myrtle's Bathroom.

Light streamed through the beige glass panes arranged in a diamond pattern, illuminating the entire bathroom. Thanks to Loren's repair of the toilet, the bathroom floor, which had been perpetually damp, was finally no longer wet, revealing its original color.

Hermione sat cross-legged on the ground, holding a square glass bottle, and poured the green herbal juice inside into the crucible in front of her at a steady pace. Then she picked up a stirring spoon and slowly stirred the liquid until it was well mixed.

It's important to ensure the 12 Gillyweed in the pot are heated evenly, and to add water as needed when the liquid level drops due to evaporation. Hermione has been repeating these steps for the past few days, but she doesn't find it boring at all; on the contrary, she enjoys it.

The process of brewing high-level Potions gave her a sense of fulfillment, and her brain was happily absorbing knowledge and experience.

"What are you doing?" a high-pitched female voice asked.

Hermione looked up and saw Moaning Myrtle floating in mid-air, peering curiously into the pot. She wore a satisfied smile, somewhat like Loren, as if she'd succeeded in her mischief.

This was the first time she had faced Moaning Myrtle alone; previously, she had always been with Loren. Hermione felt a sense of shame, like she'd been caught red-handed, for doing something so shameful on someone else's turf.

After deciding to brew the Polyjuice Potion here, they originally planned to let Moaning Myrtle know, but Moaning Myrtle wasn't here a few days ago, so they didn't have a chance to explain.

"We were planning to discuss this with you, but you've been away these past few days—" Hermione said, then suddenly asked curiously, "I remember you've been staying in your cubicle, where have you been these past few days?"

"Hehehe~" Moaning Myrtle laughed excitedly as she spoke of this, "Did you know that there's a bathroom on the sixth floor that's exclusively for the Prefect and Quidditch team captains?"

The Prefect's and captain's bathroom? What's it to you?

Hermione nodded blankly. "I heard the Twins teasing Percy about it. Is there anything special about the bathroom?"

These past few days, in order to brew the Potions, Hermione hadn't taken care of her hair much; her thick curls covered her entire head, and her voice sounded tired and somewhat unkempt.

Muggle-born, not pretty, and hid alone in the bathroom with no one to keep her company. She was also rumored to have been ostracized by other girls.

Moaning Myrtle felt that Hermione was somewhat similar to her, and a sense of closeness arose in her heart. She had the idea of becoming friends with Hermione.

Just like living little Witch always have their own best friends, those little Witch who gather in groups will share unspeakable secrets and discuss topics that sound impolite in a corner.

During her long time as a ghost, she had witnessed such scenes countless times. Hidden within the cold, heavy stone walls of the Castle, only one ear was visible, yet it could be heard.

Driven by a secret envy, she whispered excitedly into Hermione's ear, mimicking the little Witch who share secrets, "If we just go through Nearly Headless Nick's statue, we can get into the boys' bathroom and see the Prefect bathing—"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Ah! This... you, I..."

She stammered, too shocked to know where to begin. Shyness, condemnation of Moaning Myrtle's misconduct, and contemplation of whether human morality and school rules could apply to ghosts...

The amount of information here is so vast that even Hermione's mind went blank for a moment.

"Oh, it's like this... I was thinking, if you die, you're welcome to come with me to watch the Prefect take a bath." Moaning Myrtle blushed and her face turned silvery-white.

Ghosts walk through walls, peep, take showers...

When I die...

Let's go together...

Should I thank her for her kindness? Hermione fell silent for a moment.

Hermione opened her mouth, hesitated, and finally asked with a complicated expression, "Does it take this long to peek? I've been brewing Potions here for days."

"Aha!" Moaning Myrtle squealed excitedly in her high-pitched voice, circling Hermione twice. "This is my experience. You can't go in and out of the bathroom too often, or the other ghosts will spot you. And I don't know when the Prefect go to take a bath, so I always stay there for a few days, and I always manage to see them."

Hermione fell even more silent, once again deeply realizing the distortion that ghosts had distorted her personality and mind.

Moaning Myrtle was not discouraged by the lack of response. She knew that this was how the living were, and she would understand after she died.

Moaning Myrtle looked at the cauldron. "What kind of Potions are you brewing? Why are you brewing it here?"

Hermione then realized that she had stopped stirring at some point, and the liquid had become somewhat stagnant. She quickly turned the stirring spoon and waited for the Gillyweed to stabilize before saying, "Because no one else can know, not even the professor and students, can you keep this a secret for us?"

"Oh, it needs to be kept secret!" Moaning Myrtle suddenly became even more excited. "You're doing something against school rules, aren't you?"

Hearing the words "violation of school rules" come from Moaning Myrtle's mouth, Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "Yes, yes. We plan to use this Potions to investigate things related to the Chamber of Secrets, but I can't tell you the specifics of the plan."

Moaning Myrtle looked on with longing and envy. "It's so nice to go on an adventure that breaks school rules with friends..."

Just then, Harry and Ron rushed in from outside the bathroom. "Hermione! Hermione! We found what you asked us to find!"

Harry held a copy of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" in his hands, while Ron held a piece of paper that had just been torn from a very old Library book.

It reads: In our country, many terrible beasts and monsters roam, the most bizarre and deadliest of which is the Basilisk, also known as the Serpent King...

Little Hangleton, at the Gaunt's old house.

Because of the commotion earlier, some small animals near the woods next to the old house sensed that the area was no longer safe and began to venture deeper into the valley. The noise of their journey brought a touch of life to the long-silent valley.

The chilly autumn wind blew into the dilapidated old house, causing the old man's long white beard to sway incessantly, just like the man's heart, which was restless for a long time.

Dumbledore sat at the table, oblivious to the worn-out stool and dirty surface, staring at the Resurrection Stone on the table for a long time.

The image of this long-bearded old man as a reliable figure is deeply ingrained in people's minds, and his power transcends two generations of Dark Lord. So much so that people often forget that he is over a hundred years old, even though that is quite old for a wizard.

Loren watched the principal staring blankly, worried that he might lose his way again but he didn't know how to speak up, so he was ready to activate the Orca Creation at any time.

Noticing his wariness, Dumbledore forced a stiff smile and said softly, "Loren, do you know the Tale of the Three Brothers?"

Loren nodded; he knew. Then he shook his head, indicating he didn't know very well.

Dumbledore's eyes showed a nostalgic look. "This story made a deep impression on me when I was a child. I first heard it from my mother, and soon it became the story I begged her to tell me most often before bed. My brother Aberforth often argued with me about it, and his favorite story was ' The Dirty Goat Crumple '."

As he spoke, Loren tried to discern any emotion on Dumbledore's face, but found nothing. It was as if the passage of time had dulled the centenarian's longing for his family.

Meeting Loren's gaze, Dumbledore smiled slightly and said, "I'll tell you the story of ' The Dirty Goat Crumple ' another time. Today, I want to tell you the story of the Deathly Hallows. Once upon a time, there were three brothers traveling along a secluded, winding path..."

"Death walked to an Elder Wood tree on the shore, made a wand from a hanging branch, and gave it to the eldest brother... Death then picked up a stone from the shore and gave it to the second brother, telling him that the stone had the power to bring the dead back to life... Death reluctantly gave his Invisibility Cloak to the third brother..."

Even when the third brother took off his Invisibility Cloak and handed it to his descendants, voluntarily and equally throwing himself into the embrace of death, it was no different from what Loren knew.

"It is said that if a person legally possesses these three things, he/she will become the 'Master of Death,' which usually means that he/she is invincible and even immortal." Dumbledore said this casually, in a fleeting moment, his tone calm and unperturbed.

"I opposed Snape's research into the Resurrection Potion, yet I allowed him to experiment, because I knew he was doomed to fail, while the process of trying would bring solace and hope to those still alive. Just like before..."

As he said this, a hazy mist welled up in Dumbledore blue eyes, only to quickly dissipate. It happened so fast that Loren thought he was seeing things.

"A long time ago, I realized one thing—that we still have no power to bring the dead back to life, and there are good reasons to conclude that such a thing will never happen."

"Just like in the story, resurrection is a fabrication by Death to reap lives," Dumbledore, his eyes gleaming strangely as he looked at Loren. "Thanks to you, otherwise I would have ended up like the second son in the story."

Loren didn't want to reopen Dumbledore's wounds, so he didn't want to dwell on what had just happened. He poked the Resurrection Stone with his wand and asked, "Voldemort was so afraid of death, why didn't he use the Resurrection Stone?"

"I don't think he recognized the Resurrection Stone. For someone like Voldemort, which dead person would he want to bring back? He fears the dead. He doesn't understand love," Dumbledore said.

In fact, Loren felt that, apart from Dumbledore, no top wizard believed love possessed Magic Power. He thought Dumbledore might have been referring to the influence of emotions and the soul on Magic Power.

Loren was still puzzled. "If Voldemort didn't recognize the Resurrection Stone, then why were you... well, lost in the illusion of the Resurrection Stone?"

"He simply devised a very clever magic ring that would make anyone who noticed him fall into their deepest fantasies and would make them involuntarily put on the ring. He then designed an extremely evil curse on the ring."

Dumbledore paused, took a deep breath, and said, "After I recognized the Resurrection Stone, I became a little emotional and let my guard down in front of the Horcrux."

How could he not be tempted... Gellert's ideas were so attractive to him back then, the core of their plan was the Deathly Hallows! They fascinated him so much, and they fascinated them so much.

For Gellert, the Resurrection Stone meant the army of the Inferi; for him, it meant the resurrection of his parents and Ariana's forgiveness.

So many years later, the Resurrection Stone, which he had searched for so long, appeared here. In that instant, he thought he was about to see Ariana, his mother, his father. He thought he could tell them the regret in his heart...

How could he not be tempted?

Loren fiddled with the Gaunt's Ring with his wand. "Headmaster, what do you plan to do with this ring?"

The ring still bears fragments of Voldemort's soul; besides being Resurrection Stone, it is also Voldemort's Horcrux.

Dumbledore took a deep look at the Deathly Hallows symbol engraved on the Resurrection Stone, his fingers trembled twice under the table as he sensed his wand, and the image of the sheer Invisibility Cloak flashed through his mind.

He suppressed his chaotic thoughts deep within his mind. "Like Diadem, I want to put it away first and wait for the right time to destroy it."

Why not destroy it immediately?

Thinking of the vicious curse above, I recalled the scene of Dumbledore falling from the tower.

Loren abandoned his flippant demeanor, his expression turning serious. He stared into Dumbledore's eyes. "I want you to destroy it immediately. Now! In my presence!"

Behind that gaze seemed to lie a mature soul. For a moment, Dumbledore almost suspected that the gaze had seen through his thoughts and wanted to avoid those eyes.

But when he sensed that Loren was trying to separate him from the Resurrection Stone, and that Loren was worried about him, Dumbledore felt a long-forgotten sense of shame.

After a long silence, Dumbledore smiled with relief. He had proven in his youth that power was his weakness and his obsession, yet even in his old age he still couldn't let go of it and still harbored unrealistic ideas.

Forget it, forget it. He's already 111 years old; his era is long gone!

Having abandoned the unrealistic idea of collecting all the Deathly Hallows, Dumbledore felt relieved, and even the fatigue caused by the Horcrux dissipated considerably.

He raised his hand and gently tapped Loren's nose, laughing, "I am the headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Do you think I would fall for the same trick twice in the same place?"

"Who knows? You're a wizard, not Merlin." Loren didn't back down at all.

Even the explosion of the Piercing Charm couldn't wake the delirious headmaster. What if one night, Dumbledore insomnia and went into a late-night trance, took out the Resurrection Stone and examined it? When he was found in the morning, his body would probably be stiff.

"Hahaha..." Dumbledore laughed. "You're right! I'm just an old wizard, not Merlin, nor Deity."

He thought for a moment, then waved to the shelf next to him.

The earthenware jar that had previously stored the Horcrux flew over and landed on the table. Dumbledore picked up the ring and placed it into the jar. He then used his wand to gently tap the jar with Transfiguration. Suddenly, liquid-like waves flowed across the surface of the fired jar, which then folded itself like paper.

After being folded several times, the pottery jar shrank into a perfectly round sphere, its surface as black as stone.

Dumbledore took Loren's hand, opened it, and placed the stone sphere containing the Resurrection Stone in his hand, solemnly entrusting it to him. "Although you don't trust me, I trust you very much. The Horcrux is not yet ready to be destroyed, and I hope you will keep it safe until the time comes."

Loren blinked in bewilderment... What's going on? He got a Resurrection Stone for free?