Contrary to Brian's expectations, Moaning Myrtle's heart had not "grown a coat of armor with the passing years" as he had imagined. The young ghost was completely open. She constantly talked about the miserable treatment she had suffered and had no qualms about discussing her death.
Before he could even ask, Moaning Myrtle brought up her death herself-as though it were something that delighted her. Her expression was positively gleeful, almost wistful, as if she wanted to return to that day and die all over again.
"Olive Hornby! I bet she never forgot me for the rest of her life-right up to the day she died, she would remember that she was the one who killed me! Ha! I'll always remember her face when she opened the door and saw my body lying on the floor-she was paler than a ghost!"
Moaning Myrtle spun happily in the air and said smugly,
"What a shame it didn't frighten her to death! You know, she was the one who started bullying me. Her favorite thing was to snatch my glasses when I wasn't looking, then lean close to my ear and say, 'Warren, why haven't you hanged yourself with that disgusting straight hair of yours yet?'"
"Well, then I really did die, and she was the first one to find me-I asked her, 'Are you happy now?' She just kept crying and shouting at me to stop haunting her, so I had no choice but to repeat what she'd once said to me-'Crybaby, four-eyes, with all those tears, why can't you wash those disgusting pimples off your face?'"
"Later, I even followed her to her brother's wedding-ha, you'd never guess how the groom reacted when I passed through his body-he threw up last night's dinner right onto the bride's wedding dress!
"It should have been even more fun, but she went to the Ministry of Magic and asked them to restrict me, to stop me from leaving Hogwarts. So fragile-when she was bullying me at her worst, I only thought about hanging myself with a rope. I never thought about going to the Ministry of Magic!"
They called it a conversation, but in reality, Brian mostly listened in silence as Moaning Myrtle vented, sentence after sentence. She talked endlessly, circling back again and again to a past she could never let go of-
Moaning Myrtle was trapped now, not by the Ministry of Magic, but by the Moaning Myrtle of the past.
"Myrtle, do you think Olive Hornby paid enough for what she did to you?" Brian truly did not know whether to offer comfort or congratulations.
He stood outside the conflict and suffering between Myrtle and Olive. Whatever he said would make him seem... a little presumptuous.
"Ah... that question sounds familiar." Moaning Myrtle thought for a moment, then said through gritted teeth,
"I remember! The people from the Ministry of Magic asked me that too, and my answer was-not enough! I still think so!"
"...I completely understand your anger," Brian said with a sigh.
Brian's feelings were a tangled mix-he was willing to believe that, after being haunted by Moaning Myrtle, Olive Hornby understood better than anyone what it meant to pay for one's actions.
But what she could never have imagined was that, until the price actually came due, no one could know how crushing it would be, or how long they would have to keep paying.
Brian now felt furious at the monster that had killed Moaning Myrtle-if she had lived, she would still have had so many wonderful possibilities ahead of her. Perhaps one day she would have found the strength to fight back. Perhaps she would have sought help. But those were only possibilities-the cruel reality was that she had been killed at the most painful point in her life-and ghosts had no future, only a past.
"Myrtle, I want to find out exactly what the monster that killed you was." Brian looked into her eyes and said earnestly, "I'd like your help, for your sake, and for two friends of mine who have suffered terribly from being wrongly accused."
Brian's attitude had changed-
At first, he had come to this bathroom merely intending to give it a try and leave it at that if it did not work out. Now, however, he had decided to do everything he could to get to the bottom of it.
He wanted to make that monster, or the bastard behind it, pay, even if what he was investigating lay in the distant past-perhaps the monster was already dead, and perhaps the bastard behind it was dead too, but he still intended to do it-
There were some things whose outcome you would never know unless you tried.
Brian desperately hoped that the monster and whoever might have been directing it were still alive-Hagrid and Aragog needed their names cleared, and Moaning Myrtle needed an explanation. Even now, she did not know who her true killer was!
Brian believed that the truth would come to light one day-after all, both magic and the stars favored him.
"I don't really want to find the monster that killed me all that much." Moaning Myrtle gazed dreamily at Brian. "Your eyes are so pretty. Pale blue, like sapphires. Ten thousand times prettier than that monster's eyes!"
"Thank you. Your eyes are beautiful too, and your straight hair reminds me of neatly lined-up pencil leads. Your voice is lovely as well. I dare say that, if you wanted, the most beautiful singing would no longer come from merpeople, but from Myrtle."
Brian was generous with his praise. He sincerely meant it, and he was glad that Moaning Myrtle was willing to mention the monster.
"Speaking of which, you told the people from the Ministry that the monster's eyes were bright yellow, didn't you? Could you give me a few more details-for instance, what you were doing at the time, whether the monster made any sounds..."
He stopped there. Moaning Myrtle suddenly began to cry, sobbing silently. She turned her back and buried her head in the toilet-the water inside kept rising, spilling onto the floor within seconds, then spreading out of the bathroom.
Moaning Myrtle seemed determined to have a good, long cry. Even after five minutes, the water overflowing from the toilet showed no sign of slowing, giving Brian time to examine the bathroom in detail-it was his first time spending so long in the Girls' Bathroom.
Brian looked at the brass taps above the sinks and noticed that their handles all pointed in different directions, yet none of them let out any water, as though they had agreed on it. Clearly, the students of Hogwarts were not particularly keen on using this bathroom-
Then who, exactly, would have felt inclined to engrave an intricate little snake on one of the brass taps?
Perhaps some girl from Slytherin House-er, surely it couldn't have been a boy?
If it really had been a boy, perhaps that boy ought to see the Muggle psychiatrist Brian knew.
Brian thought in silence.
Another ten minutes passed before the bathroom drains finally got a breather. But before Moaning Myrtle could pull her head out of the toilet, a pale-skinned, black-haired ghost kicked the bathroom door open with a bang and darted inside-
"Ha! Crybaby four-eyes! Ugly little thing! Who's made you cry this time?"
Peeves looked around excitedly. He did not spot Moaning Myrtle, but he did notice Brian.
"The new librarian? Interesting, interesting! Did you make four-eyes cry? Ah... I remember you don't get along with Snivellus. Would you like to see him here? Whether you do or not, I'm off to fetch him!"
He darted back out in a flash. Moaning Myrtle let out a wail, and this time her crying was loud indeed. Brian had no time to scold Peeves and hurried to comfort her instead. "Don't listen to Peeves. He's talking nonsense. I'll ask the Bloody Baron to teach him a lesson."
This was a little trick Professor McGonagall had taught him-
The only ghost Peeves feared was the Bloody Baron, and finding the Bloody Baron was much easier than finding Dumbledore.
But who was this "Snivellus" Peeves had mentioned... a student wandering around at night, or a member of the Hogwarts staff?
Puzzled, Brian continued soothing Moaning Myrtle-whoever "Snivellus" was, he had no intention of leaving. Questions about the monster could wait, but there was no way he could abandon a hurt and crying Myrtle and simply walk away.
Three minutes later, Brian was greeted by Snape shoving the bathroom door open-his expression was so dark it looked ready to drip.
"May I ask whether there are Training Dummies in the Girls' Bathroom as well?" Snape said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Before you continue