Moaning Myrtle

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

Only when the enchanted ceiling twinkled with starlight and the Hall was nearly empty did he leisurely enter the foyer and head for the second floor.

A large, mottled sign hung on the door of the Girls' Lavatory, bearing the word "Broken."

He reached for the Brass doorknob and pushed the door open.

This was the darkest, most dismal place he had ever visited.

A musty smell permeated the lavatory, and the walls and floor were damp.

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

A few candle ends burned low in their sconces, seemingly on the verge of extinguishing at any moment. The dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows on the floor.

The wooden doors of the cubicles were paint-peeled and scratched; one door's hinges had come loose, leaving it dangling precariously.

From the moment he stepped into the room, the sound of dripping water echoed from some dark corner, and a gurgling sob drifted from a cubicle in the depths, reverberating through the empty lavatory.

Snape paused, listening to the source of the crying, and walked towards the innermost cubicle.

At the door, he knocked lightly, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"

Moaning Myrtle was floating in the cistern of the Toilet, tearfully picking 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 almost instinctively cast a legendary Dark Magic spell from Posterity, but managed to suppress the impulse just in time.

"Ahem, ahem, clearly I am not a girl," he said. "I came here because I wanted to see you."

"What do you want to mock me about now!" Myrtle wailed, "I have feelings, you know, even though I'm dead."

"Myrtle, no one wants to mock you," Snape said. "I just—"

"No one wants to mock me? That's a big joke!" Myrtle cried. "My life here is nothing but sorrow, and now that I'm dead, you still won't leave me alone!"

Tears streamed rapidly from her transparent Little eyes.

"I just wanted to ask you how you died," Snape said quickly and loudly.

The gurgling sobs stopped, and Myrtle's entire demeanor changed.

It seemed that very few people had ever asked a question that made her feel so honored.

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

Moaning Myrtle floated up into the air, spun around, and settled gracefully on top of the cistern.

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

"You know what? What they were saying was very funny. I think it must have been another language. But what annoyed me the most was hearing a boy's voice talking."

"Just like you," Moaning Myrtle said meaningfully, looking at Snape, and continued with relish, "So I opened the door, yelled at him to go away and go to his own boys' lavatory, and then—"

She puffed out her chest, as if she had done something very clever, her face glowing: "I died."

"How did you die?" Snape asked.

"I don't know," Moaning Myrtle whispered mysteriously, "I just remember seeing a pair of terrifyingly large yellow eyes. My whole body seemed to be grabbed, and then I floated away..."

She looked at Snape in a daze and said, "Later, I came back here. You know, I was determined to get revenge on Olive Hornby.

"It took them a very long time to find my corpses—I know, I was just sitting there waiting for them.

"Olive Hornby walked into the washroom—'Are you sulking in here again, Myrtle?' she said, 'Professor Dippet sent me to find you—'"

A mischievous expression appeared on Moaning Myrtle's face.

"Then she suddenly saw my corpses... Oh, she'll never forget that moment, I can guarantee... 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 sprayed out with the foam—"

"It was me too." She gave a wicked smile, "Oh, she really regretted mocking me for wearing glasses back then."

"Later, of course," Moaning Myrtle's mood became low again, "she went to the Ministry of Magic and stopped me from following her, so I had to come back here and live in my toilet.

"I really don't understand why the Ministry of Magic would care about this, yet completely ignore what I told them."

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

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

"But the boy's voice I heard was definitely not his. So I told them they had the wrong person."

"You mean that person wasn't Hagrid?"

Moaning Myrtle's pearly eyes suddenly turned bright white, and her thick lenses gleamed with surprise.

"How did you know?"

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

"I did, he specifically came to ask me," Moaning Myrtle nodded seriously, "But he just said 'I know' and asked me to keep it a secret, and that was it."

"Oh, that's so Dumbledore," Snape pouted, and continued to guide the conversation, "Can you tell me where you saw those yellow eyes?"

"It's about there," Moaning Myrtle said, vaguely pointing to the pool in front of her.

Snape walked over to the edge of the grimy pool.

The pool looked quite ordinary. He deliberately inspected it inside and out, top to bottom, not missing the mirror above or the pipes below.

Finally, he turned his attention to the dark green brass taps.

On the side of one of the brass taps, he saw a small snake-shaped mark.

"This tap never runs water," Moaning Myrtle said happily, seeing Snape try to turn the tap.

"Do you remember how that boy's funny words went?" Snape stopped trying.

Moaning Myrtle frowned and thought for a moment, making a strange hissing sound.

But nothing happened. It was still the same restroom, with only the "drip, drip" of dripping water reaching their ears.