Traces

Moaning Myrtle was nowhere to be seen. Loren and the others entered the Chamber of Secrets through the opening in the bathroom.

The passage had been renovated. Copper pipes wound through it, and the moss and slime inside had been cleared away, so they no longer had to endure that pungent, nauseating stench. The branches connecting to other pipes had been sealed off, and they slid smoothly and cleanly into the tunnel below. Loren felt that the ride was far better than before.

Hagrid had some objections, but since he had not gotten stuck halfway through the pipe, he did not fuss over the minor discomfort.

As Magic Power flowed into their wands, several clusters of bright blue flames burst into bloom, floating through the air as they flickered and burned, casting a warm, steady light.

The sight beneath the pipes differed slightly from their memories, but overall, nothing had changed. A pitch-black stone tunnel, soft and damp ground piled with mud and sand. Their faint footsteps echoed through the passage, accompanied now and then by crisp crackling sounds as they stepped on the bones of rats or some other animals.

After passing a fork paved with flat stone slabs, Harry turned to look at the surrounding walls, feeling somewhat wistful.

"Harry, do you remember? There used to be a Snakeskin lying here."

Harry turned around and saw Ron standing beside him, looking around curiously with an eager, excited expression. "Back then, we dragged Lockhart down here with us and followed behind Crabbe and the others. We were nearly scared stiff by that Snakeskin..."

"..."

The two veterans of that adventure began reminiscing over the details of those days. Some memories also surfaced in Hermione's mind, and she turned to look at someone beside her, a faint glimmer in her