In the Girls' Bathroom

Is this really the guy Dumbledore has his eye on?

Is this Fudge?

From a certain perspective, Fudge is quite a remarkable guy.

In the eyes of the Wizarding World, Fudge was nothing Dumbledore's yes-man.

In Dumbledore's eyes, he was also an honest and obedient minister, albeit a bit greedy.

These images are all created by Fudge to present to everyone.

If Fudge hadn't inexplicably become arrogant recently, we probably wouldn't have been able to find his biggest weakness.

"This is the best way to shirk responsibility. Just do this and act like you're busy and that you care." Even Riddle couldn't help but start complaining.

"Yes, that's why you need to work hard. By the time you no longer want to be at Hogwarts, I might already be dead—you could try to become Minister for Magic and prevent the Britain Wizarding World from going off track." Dumbledore smiled slyly.

"So you still haven't given up on the idea of dying of old age!" Riddle couldn't suppress his anger, causing his voice to rise at the end of his sentence.

He also forgot that the magic that had just prevented sound leakage had already been stopped by Dumbledore.

"Tom, don't think I don't know what you're up to." Dumbledore wanted to continue.

However, a voice interrupted their conversation.

"Who are you!" A scream rang out, accompanied by the sound of water gushing out. It was Myrtle. "A man's voice! My body and heart belong to Harry Potter!"

"What, are you going to laugh at me again for my delusional dreams? A toad trying to eat swan meat?"

"Only I know that Harry cares about me, and even stopped the redhead and the vampire brat next to him from reporting me to the Ministry of Magic. Harry, oh, Harry." Myrtle noticed someone behind her and started rambling.

"Poor Harry," Dumbledore and Riddle said almost simultaneously.

After a brief exchange of glances, Riddle bowed slightly and stepped aside, gesturing for Dumbledore to open the door.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Myrtle jumped back into the water tank, splashing water everywhere.

Upon opening the door, the bathroom was dimly lit, as the gushing water had extinguished the candles and left the walls and floor damp.

Riddle gave a disgusted look, then pulled out his wand and waved it, the candles lit up again, and the ground dried up.

Meanwhile, Myrtle peeked out slightly from inside the water tank.

"What did you just see?" Dumbledore asked gently.

He acted as if he was supposed to be there, as if it were his due.

Myrtle was clearly affected by this attitude, and given that she had been Myrtle Dumbledore, she slowly began to regain her composure. "I didn't see anything just now, everything was the same as usual, but if it were you—that could really be wrong—um, I was just lost in thought—"

"Distracted?" Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

"Professor, do you know Tom Riddle? He's a handsome young man from Slytherin, and he looks a lot like you." Myrtle blinked shyly.

"He's my father," Riddle made up.

It's quite normal for fathers and sons to have the same name in the Wizarding World.

Because their names usually have a middle name, the difference between seemingly identical names is that middle name.

And it is generally not known to people who are not familiar with it.

"It really seems like... no, I have Harry. How could you do this?" Myrtle muttered in the pool.

"Myrtle, you need to leave for a while. We suspect someone has broken in and need to investigate." At Dumbledore's instruction, Myrtle glanced reluctantly at Riddle before disappearing into the water tank, vanishing without a trace.

"Right here?" After Myrtle left, Dumbledore looked at a bronze dragon head under the pool in front of him.

"It's obvious, I don't know why no one has noticed: only this faucet never produces water, and only its side is tattooed with a snake." Riddle couldn't help but roll his eyes. In front of Dumbledore, he was becoming more and more like a normal little wizard. Suddenly, a strange hissing sound came from his mouth. "Open."

Instantly, the dragon head emitted a dazzling white light and began to spin rapidly.

Then, the pool began to move. They watched as the pool slowly disappeared from sight, revealing a very thick water pipe, large enough for a person to crawl inside.

"Go inside? Slytherin isn't an Animagus, is he? A snake?" Dumbledore said after bending down to examine the area.

"I think—well, maybe so."

"I suggest you don't be too surprised. Come with me." Dumbledore could even think about why he was surprised, he jumped down with Riddle.

No, sliding down is more appropriate.

He also understood why he should be surprised.

That's because this slide was really disgusting; it was covered in a sticky liquid.

What's even more disgusting is that, given his level of magic, a little darkness couldn't obscure his vision.

This allowed him to clearly see every strand of yellowish-green slime, as well as the corpses of the insects inside.

However, this slime isn't without its advantages; it also makes them slide very quickly.

On the way, he could also see many thinner tubes branching out in all directions, and he guessed that the Basilisk probably slid through them on a daily basis.

Their pipe twists and turns, winding and turning, with a very steep slope all the way down.

Dumbledore estimated that they must have slid for several miles, down to a very deep place beneath the school grounds, probably to the bottom of the lake.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he began to feel the water pipe become horizontal. He emerged from the pipe and fell onto the damp ground with a "plop".

It was a dark, stone tunnel, large enough for a person to stand inside. Riddle stood before him, wand pointed at him, casting a Scourgify.

"I still don't understand why the Chamber of Secrets was built like this." Riddle looked at the ground with disdain.

The ground was also very damp, and there were small animal bones everywhere.

"Perhaps it has something to do with Slytherin's origins. As is well known, Slytherin came from the damp swamp."

"And these environments that most people would find unpleasant might actually feel like home," Dumbledore speculated.

At the same time, Dumbledore's pale blue eyes began to glow faintly, as if he were searching for any trace of a third person.

"Have you ever considered that this place is so disgusting, maybe that person flew in?"

"And why didn't you fly down? Did you want to experience the feel of the glide firsthand?" Riddle complained.

"Fly? Maybe."

"I think it's best to be cautious in the Chamber of Secrets and conserve some magic," Dumbledore sighed.

He found no trace of any third person.

Wait, what's that?