Professor Kettleburn

After Snape left, Brian, still worried, returned to the bathroom. He patiently waited for Moaning Myrtle's sobs to gradually subside, then knocked again and asked softly:

"Myrtle, are you all right? I need to go back to my room. Shall I come see you again tomorrow?"

"Brian? I thought you were never coming back!" Moaning Myrtle's delighted voice rang out. "Don't go. Stay and chat with me a little longer-come in! You don't have to knock. I have a favor to ask!"

"Of course. I'd be happy to help."

Brian glanced down the corridor. Seeing no sign of Peeves, he sighed with relief and pushed the door open, only to find that the damp air had made the already desolate bathroom feel even more oppressive-

Add a few chains and some howling, and it really would be indistinguishable from a prison cell.

Spending all day in a place like this would surely put even a ghost in a bad mood, wouldn't it?

But a girl's thoughts were hard enough to fathom, let alone a ghost girl's, so Brian ventured,

"Perhaps, before you ask your favor, I could make this place look a little nicer?"

"If you'd like to, of course," Moaning Myrtle said sweetly. "It's all falling apart. It's much worse than when I died."

Brian nodded happily, took out his wand, and alternated between the Mending Charm and Scourgify. Work that would take a Muggle cleaner an entire day took just five short minutes with magic-

Wizards had been doing this a thousand years ago... Clearly, Muggle technology still had some catching up to do.

In any case, thanks to Brian's efforts, the broken mirrors regained their clean, smooth surfaces, and the stone-tile lovers separated by gaps two fingers wide were finally reunited. The freshly restored bathroom finally looked something like a bathroom.

Brian's small effort also yielded a considerable return-

The chances of students willingly coming inside had increased by at least thirty percent, Moaning Myrtle would feel a little happier while staring into space, and several broken potion bottles from various corners, half a dried Flobberworm, and a piece chipped off some cauldron would all find the rubbish bin they were destined for.

Only the brass tap engraved with a little snake still sat slightly crooked, but that minor flaw hardly mattered.

"That's much better."

Brian opened the high windows to let in fresh air and smiled at Moaning Myrtle, who had been watching him without blinking. "So, what was the favor you wanted to ask?"

Moaning Myrtle shyly averted her eyes. "I want to hear you compliment me again, with the things you said earlier."

Brian quickly understood what she meant, and he was more than happy to oblige. He cleared his throat:

"Your eyes are beautiful, and your straight hair reminds me of neatly lined-up pencil leads. Your voice is lovely, too. I daresay that, if you wanted, the most beautiful singing would no longer come from merpeople, but from Moaning Myrtle."

He had barely gotten through half a sentence before Moaning Myrtle nearly cried again. But she fought hard to hold back her tears and didn't bury her head in the toilet once more. Reassured, Brian turned away and counted the patterns on the wall, giving the ghost girl plenty of room to compose herself.

About half a minute later, he heard Moaning Myrtle say indignantly behind him:

"Now I absolutely hate the monster that killed me! Even if it had to kill me, it should have waited until I'd experienced love! But I'm already dead!

"The only thing I can do is peek at handsome boys taking baths! But what good does that do? Before long, they start sitting in the bath with silly smiles, murmuring their partners' names! Every single time!"

"I'm willing to try to help you find the killer." Brian seized his chance and turned back. "Can you tell me everything you remember?"

"Of course," Moaning Myrtle said glumly,

"But we don't have much time. We can't take too long. I still have to visit the Prefects' Bathroom in a bit. There's a cute, freckled boy called Percy who likes reading while he soaks-he's been here five years and he's still single. That's no easy feat."

"Er... perhaps you could have a proper chat with him when he has his clothes on?" Brian suggested hesitantly.

"I wouldn't dare," Moaning Myrtle said with complete conviction. "Besides, that would be far too forward."

"...And peeking at boys taking baths isn't?" Brian couldn't stop himself from saying it aloud.

Moaning Myrtle's answer was, "Of course it is. But as long as nobody catches me doing it, I'm still a modest girl."

The next morning, Brian opened the trunk as soon as he got out of bed. The book still lay motionless inside, looking as though it had overeaten-though it seemed to have moved after all, since the handkerchief he had draped over it was slightly askew.

It had looked like this when he returned the night before, and an entire night had brought little change.

"Are you really all right?" Brian poked the book worriedly. "Same as usual. Give me a wiggle if you're fine."

The book struggled to wiggle, managing a little more movement than yesterday.

"Hmm... if you've overeaten, you ought to get some exercise to help you digest. Perhaps I should carry you around." Brian picked up the book and tucked it into a pocket enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm. "I hope you'll like the magical plants in the greenhouses."

As arranged, Brian met Professor Sprout in the Great Hall while she was having breakfast, and once again discovered just how keenly women noticed makeup.

"No makeup today?"

Professor Sprout asked with a smile,

"Did you get up late? Makeup is delicate work, after all. It takes time and effort. Plenty of witches have tried inventing a spell to apply makeup, but it's very difficult. No one has succeeded yet."

"Perhaps someone has," Brian said, blinking. He hadn't expected the book's makeup magic to be such an advanced skill. "But fate played a cruel trick on her. Just as she was about to share her technique, the cosmetics suppliers paid her a fortune to keep her mouth shut."

"Very likely," Professor Sprout said with deep agreement. "If people could apply makeup with magic, a great many would go bankrupt, a great many would lose their jobs, and all sorts of magical plants used for coloring would be trampled without mercy."

"Magical plants used for coloring?" Brian asked curiously. "What's special about them? Do they change color? Reflect light? Have some special waterproofing or fireproofing properties?"

"The magical plants you're describing aren't generally used for coloring-that would be far too extravagant... You must try this. It's a new breakfast the house-elves learned to make this year-a cheese hot dog panini."

Professor Sprout handed Brian a piping-hot panini,

"In fact, those magical dye plants are no different from the plants Muggles use for coloring. What's more, they're more fragile than Muggle plants, harder to keep alive, and harder to propagate. Their sole purpose is to make already expensive cosmetics even more expensive, so they can squeeze more money out of wizards' pockets."

"...Delicious!" Brian took a huge bite. The combination of carbohydrates, fat, and sugar in his mouth effortlessly drove away the winter chill. "It seems the wizarding world has quite a few people destined to end up hanging from lampposts, too."

After chatting a little longer, Brian asked about Professor Kettleburn.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen Professor Kettleburn in the castle. He doesn't seem very keen on eating in the Great Hall," Brian said. "Or on coming into the castle at all. The students do often talk about interesting things that happen in Care of Magical Creatures, though."

He had previously heard a Gryffindor student say, "Professor Kettleburn set an arm he used to use on fire, and two salamanders suddenly sprang out of the flames-the professor is those salamanders' mum!"

"It can't really be helped. You'll have to forgive Silvanus for being lazy-he only has one and a half limbs left. Although walking doesn't seem to take him much more effort than anyone else, he only wants to spend his energy on teaching and his beloved fantastic beasts. By the way, what do you need him for?" Professor Sprout wiped her mouth with a handkerchief.

Brian had finished off his panini, too, and drained the remaining Pumpkin Juice in one gulp. "I'd like to ask him about some fantastic beasts-the extremely dangerous kind that attack humans."

"Then you've come to the right person. I'm sure he'll be delighted to point to all his injuries and explain at great length which fantastic beast left each badge of honor on him."

Professor Sprout said with a smile,

"As it happens, he's bringing me a batch of fertilizer today. You can find him in the greenhouses. Shall we head over now?"