The brief peace of Christmas was utterly shattered on the morning of Boxing Day.
Students who had gone home for the holidays brought back news that a ghost had been petrified and that danger might be lurking within the castle. Concern quickly fermented into a wave of panic among the parents.
Owls flooded the headmaster's office with increasingly aggressive letters, while uneasy whispers began to echo through the corridors of the Ministry of Magic.
Facing public pressure, Minister Cornelius Fudge arrived at Hogwarts on Boxing Day itself with a team of Aurors.
The old case from fifty years ago was reopened. As a "precaution" and "to give the parents an explanation," Rubeus Hagrid was taken from the castle by Ministry officials over Dumbledore's cold objections.
"He'll be fine, Harry."
Professor McGonagall looked at the three Gryffindors standing in the entrance hall with grim faces and clenched fists, her voice firm. "Albus will handle it. Hagrid will be fine."
Lin Du stood a little farther away, his silver hair especially striking beneath the pale winter light.
When Harry cast him a bewildered look, he calmly returned it and gave a slight nod—a simple, reassuring gesture, as though he were saying, "Stay steady."
But it did not completely extinguish the boys' anger and helplessness.
However, events developed even worse than expected.
The following evening, when Harry and Ron dragged their exhausted, dejected selves back to the Gryffindor Common Room, they found Hermione sitting alone by the fire. She clutched a copy of the Daily Prophet tightly in her hands, her shoulders trembling with rage.
"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, dropping himself into an armchair.
Hermione said nothing. She simply slammed the newspaper in her hand down onto the coffee table before Harry and Ron with a sharp smack.
The headline sprawled across the page in bold, glaring print:
<Hogwarts in Crisis: A Negligent Headmaster and a Dangerous New Professor?>
Reported by Daily Prophet special correspondent Rita Skeeter
"Look at this!" Hermione's voice was shrill. "That... that woman!"
Harry and Ron hurriedly leaned in to read—
The article opened with a dramatic description of "the terrifying shadow hanging over the thousand-year-old castle," then abruptly changed course:
"...Yet what chills the heart even more than the lurking monster is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's incomprehensible tolerance—or rather, negligence.
It is reported that Rubeus Hagrid, the prime suspect in the tragedy fifty years ago that resulted in the unfortunate death of a female student, and the owner of dangerous 'pets,' was not only never permanently expelled, but continued serving as gamekeeper under Dumbledore's protection, maintaining close contact with students.
Is this disregard for the life of the deceased? Is this the height of irresponsibility toward the safety of current students?"
"She's talking rubbish!" Ron punched the armrest, his face flushed red. "Hagrid was framed! Dumbledore knows that better than anyone!"
"There's more," Hermione said, pointing at the next paragraph, her finger trembling. "Look at how she smears Professor Lin!"
The article continued: "Furthermore, Hogwarts actually hired a wizard of mysterious background this term—Lin Du, who has been confirmed to have conducted extensive research into dangerous Dark Magic—to serve as the crucial Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
According to reliable internal sources, this man had already been placed on the Ministry of Magic's watchlist before taking up the position due to his involvement in Dark Magic experiments.
Allowing such a 'scholar' to teach our young, impressionable wizards how to 'defend' against Dark Magic is no different from handing lambs over to a starving wolf for safekeeping!
What considerations lay behind Headmaster Dumbledore's appointment of this man? Was it the helplessness of having no one else to turn to, or the deliberate recruitment of some evil force?"
"How could she?" Hot blood rushed to Harry's head. Images flashed through his mind: Lin Du's calm instruction in class, his patience in helping Harry understand Parseltongue, and that hair of his, which had somehow turned white...
None of it matched the image of a "dangerous Dark wizard" painted by the article.
"Professor Lin... he takes teaching us seriously! He even helped us..."
He remembered Lin Du's calm nod when Hagrid had been taken away. It had seemed more like silent support.
"She's a viper who sells newspapers by making up sensational stories!" Hermione's voice rose sharply.
"She doesn't care about the truth at all! She's stirring up panic while attacking both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Lin! Look at this line about 'reliable internal sources'—it must have come from people at the Ministry who want to make things difficult for Professor Dumbledore! They want this to blow up as badly as possible!"
Harry stared fixedly at the newspaper, his chest burning with pent-up fury.
Then his gaze was drawn to a small illustration beside the article.
It was a picture Rita had used to substantiate the "tragedy fifty years ago": a girl lying on the corridor floor, with two braids and glasses...
"Wait," Harry said, suddenly leaning closer and poking the picture with a finger. "This girl... don't you think she looks familiar?"
Ron squinted at it. "A little... I feel like I've seen her somewhere before?"
Hermione sucked in a breath, lowering her voice to almost a whisper. "Myrtle! Moaning Myrtle! The ghost in the second-floor Restroom! She used to... she looked exactly like this!"
It was as though a bolt of lightning had split the fog apart.
Harry shot to his feet, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
"Myrtle... Myrtle was the victim from fifty years ago..." His voice tightened, and his words came faster and faster.
"She died in the Restroom, and her ghost has stayed there ever since... That Restroom! If she was killed by the monster in the Chamber of Secrets, then that means—"
"—It means the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is probably there!" Hermione finished, her eyes lighting up as well. "The monster came out from there! Or... the entrance is nearby!"
Ron gasped. "So that's why Myrtle always stayed there? Because... that's where she died?"
"And she always said she heard a boy's voice..." Harry remembered the detail Myrtle had complained about. The clues clicked together like puzzle pieces.
"Not an ordinary boy... Parseltongue! It was the opener of the Chamber of Secrets speaking!"
"Harry, where are you going? It's past curfew!" Hermione hurriedly tried to stop him when she saw him grab the Invisibility Cloak.
"There's no time!" Harry's voice was hoarse with excitement. "Hagrid's been taken away, the newspaper is spouting nonsense, and whatever's in the Chamber of Secrets could come out again at any moment! Every day we wait means another day of danger!"
He quickly draped the Invisibility Cloak over himself, leaving only his anxious head exposed. "Hermione, Ron, go tell the professors! Professor McGonagall, Professor Lin, or... go straight to Dumbledore! I'm going to check the second-floor Restroom!"
"Harry! Wait—"
Before either of them could say another word, Harry had turned and rushed out through the portrait hole, the Invisibility Cloak completely swallowing his figure.
The castle corridors were deathly silent after curfew, filled only with the thunder of his own footsteps and racing heartbeat.
He sprinted along the familiar route, with only one thought in his mind: Moaning Myrtle's Restroom.
Every clue pointed there.
When he finally raced, breathless, to the end of the dim second-floor corridor and stopped before the door of Myrtle's "out-of-order" Restroom, his whole body suddenly froze.
Cold moonlight slanted in through the high windows, illuminating the dust-covered tiled floor—and the figure standing silently with his back to the door before a row of broken sinks.
Silver hair glimmered faintly in the darkness, and his posture was straight and tall—
Lin Du.
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