Myrtle

Snape deliberately lingered over dinner in the Great Hall for more than an hour.

Only when pinpricks of starlight glittered across the enchanted ceiling and the hall was nearly empty did he stroll into the Entrance Hall and head up to the second floor.

A large, weathered sign hung on the door to the Girls' Lavatory, bearing the word "Out of Order."

He reached out, grasped the brass doorknob, and pushed the door open.

It was the darkest, dreariest place he had ever been.

A moldy smell hung in the lavatory, and the walls and floor were soaked with dampness.

Beneath a large, stained, cracked mirror stood a row of stone sinks with peeling surfaces.

Several candle stubs burned low in their holders, seeming ready to go out at any moment. The dim, flickering light cast an eerie glow across the floor.

The wooden doors of the cubicles had peeling paint and were covered in scratches; one door had come loose from its hinges and hung there, swaying.

From the moment he entered, the drip-drip of falling water sounded from some dark corner, while bubbling sobs drifted from a cubicle deep inside, echoing endlessly through the empty lavatory.

Snape paused to listen for the source of the crying, then walked toward the innermost cubicle.

At the door, he knocked softly. "Hello, Myrtle. How are you?"

Moaning Myrtle floated inside the toilet cistern, teary-eyed as she picked at a pimple on her chin.

"This is the Girls' Lavatory," she said, eyeing Snape suspiciously. "You're not a girl."

"How dare you assume—"

Snape nearly cast a legendary Dark Magic spell from the future on instinct, but fortunately stopped himself in time.

"Ahem, ahem. Obviously, I'm not a girl," he said. "I came here to see you."

"What do you want to laugh at me for this time?" Myrtle said tearfully. "I have feelings too, you know, even if I am dead."

"Myrtle, no one wants to laugh at you," Snape said. "I only—"

"No one wants to laugh at me? What a joke!" Myrtle wailed. "There was no joy in my life here, only sorrow. Now I'm dead, and you still won't leave me alone!"

Tears streamed rapidly from her transparent little eyes.

"I only wanted to ask how you died," Snape hurriedly said loudly.

The bubbling sobs stopped, and Myrtle's entire demeanor changed at once.

Apparently, few people had ever asked a question that made her feel so honored.

She wiped away nonexistent tears. "No one has cared about me for over thirty years. Oh, it was terrible. It happened right here. I died in this cubicle."

Myrtle rose into the air, spun around, and elegantly seated herself atop the cistern.

"I remember it very clearly. Olive Hornby was making fun of me for wearing glasses, saying I looked like a four-eyed dog, so I hid in here. I locked the door and cried inside when I suddenly heard someone come in.

"You know? What they were saying sounded ridiculous. I thought it must have been another language. But what annoyed me most was hearing a boy's voice."

"Just like yours." Myrtle gave Snape a meaningful look and continued with relish. "So I opened the door and told him to get out and go to his own Boys' lavatory, and then—"

She puffed out her chest as though she were terribly impressive, her face glowing. "Then I died."

"How did you die?" Snape asked.

"I don't know," Myrtle said, lowering her voice mysteriously. "I only remember seeing a pair of huge, terrifying yellow eyes. It felt as though my entire body had been seized, and then I floated away..."

She looked at Snape dazedly. "Later, I came back here. You know, I was determined to settle the score with Olive Hornby.

"It took them a very, very long time to find my corpse—I know, because I sat there waiting for them.

"Olive Hornby entered the lavatory—'Are you sulking in here again, Myrtle?' she said. 'Professor Dippet sent me to find you—'"

A mischievous expression appeared on Myrtle's face.

"Then she suddenly saw my corpse... Oh, she never forgot that sight until the day she died, I can assure you... I followed her everywhere, reminding her.

"I remember, at her brother's wedding, when they popped the cork to celebrate, it wasn't just champagne that came spraying out with the foam—"

"It was me too." She smiled eerily. "Oh, she deeply regretted making fun of me for wearing glasses."

"Later, of course," Myrtle said, her mood sinking again, "she went to the Ministry of Magic and stopped me from following her, so I had no choice but to come back here and live in my toilet.

"I really don't understand why the Ministry of Magic cared about that, yet refused to listen to what I told them."

"What did you tell the Ministry of Magic?" Snape asked.

"They found me and said that the big oaf who caused my death had already been expelled, and they told me to leave.

"But the boy's voice I heard definitely wasn't his. So I told them they had caught the wrong person."

"You mean that person wasn't Hagrid?"

Myrtle's pearl-colored eyes suddenly turned bright white, surprise gleaming on her thick lenses.

"How did you know?"

"Hagrid told me," Snape said calmly. "Did you tell Dumbledore about this?"

"I did. He came specially to ask me about it," Myrtle said, nodding seriously. "But he only said, 'I know,' and asked me to keep it secret. Nothing came of it after that."

"Oh, that's so Dumbledore." Snape curled his lip and continued guiding the conversation. "Can you tell me where you saw those yellow eyes?"

"Somewhere around there, I suppose." Myrtle vaguely pointed at the sinks in front of her.

Snape walked over to the filthy sinks.

That sink looked completely ordinary. He deliberately inspected it inside and out, top to bottom, even checking the mirror above it and the pipes beneath it.

Only then did he examine the dark green Copper Taps.

On the side of one Copper Tap, he saw a tiny snake-shaped mark.

"That tap never gives any water." Seeing Snape trying to turn it, Myrtle said happily.

"Do you remember what the boy's ridiculous words sounded like?" Snape stopped trying.

Myrtle frowned and thought for a while, then made a series of strange hissing sounds.

But nothing happened. It was still the same lavatory, with only the drip-drip of falling water reaching their ears.