After the sound came out.
A figure slowly emerged from above the innermost toilet stall.
It was a short, chubby girl ghost who wore thick-rimmed round glasses and had two stiff braids.
She looked no more than eleven or twelve years old, but her complexion was a lifeless, pearly white.
His expression was so sorrowful, as if he had endured all the grievances of the world.
She was staring intently at Hermione with her bulging, constantly tearing eyes, filled with resentment.
It's Moaning Myrtle.
That crybaby ghost who always made the bathrooms a wet mess at Hogwarts.
"This is my territory!" Moaning Myrtle, sobbing.
Her voice, with its ghostly ethereal quality, echoed through the empty washroom, striking the stone walls and sink with a buzzing sound.
"You living people, always barging in with your wailing and crying, disturbing my peace! Waaah... When I was alive, nobody liked me, nobody wanted to listen to me, and now that I'm dead and a ghost, I'm still bothered by you uninvited guests! This world is so unfair!"
She floated completely out of the toilet while grumbling and complaining.
It hung in mid-air like a wisp of smoke.
She floated slowly around Hermione.
Those wet eyes were full of scrutiny, looking her up and down as if examining a foreign object that had intruded into its territory.
"And who are you? A first-year student?" Moaning Myrtle asked bluntly.
Her tone was somewhat sarcastic, yet it also concealed a subtle hint of shared misery.
"You cried so ugly! Your nose was as red as a carrot, and your eyes were swollen like walnuts. You looked terrible! You cried even more miserably than when Oliver Humbell mocked me back then!"
Seeing that Hermione was just staring at her blankly, Moaning Myrtle couldn't help but ask again:
"Why did you come to my bathroom to cry? Were you bullied? Did you do poorly on your exam? Or was you mocked by some annoying boy?"
Before Hermione could react, Moaning Myrtle began answering her own question.
"I bet it was a boy! Those jerk boys, always so self-important, they love watching girls cry! Waaah... I came here because boys made fun of my ugly glasses back then!"
Hermione was somewhat bewildered by Moaning Myrtle's sudden appearance and rapid-fire questions.
The main reason was that I didn't expect her to be so direct right from the start, so unabashedly exposing my embarrassing situation.
She instinctively took a half step back, her back pressed tightly against the cold, rough door panel. The icy touch seeped through her thin wizard robe, sending a shiver down her spine.
She hastily wiped away the tears on her face and the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand, trying to appear calm.
But her red-rimmed eyes and nose, her messy brown curly hair, and her still rapid breathing made all her efforts seem futile, only adding to her embarrassment.
"I... I didn't mean to bother you." Hermione's voice was still choked with emotion, but she tried her best to control her sobs.
"I just... need to find a place... to be quiet."
Hermione tried to keep her tone calm.
"Quiet down? Here?" Moaning Myrtle seemed to have heard something unbelievable.
She floated to a dripping faucet, stretched out her transparent finger to poke the dripping water droplets, and then let out another hollow, sobbing cry.
"It's not quiet here at all! Listen to this! The faucet is always dripping and never stops, it's so annoying! And those pipes, they always make strange gurgling noises in the middle of the night, like something's crawling in them!"
"Waaah... Just like when I was alive, there were always people gossiping about me behind my back, it was everywhere, making my life unbearable!"
She seemed lost in self-pity over the past, her shoulders trembling slightly, and her sobs growing increasingly mournful.
But after a short while, she suddenly came to her senses, as if she had remembered something.
Moaning Myrtle floated back to Hermione in a flash, her pearly white face almost touching Hermione's.
Although there was no tangible sensation, Hermione still instinctively held her breath.
"However, considering that you were bullied and came here to cry in secret... I'll allow you to stay for a while."
"Waaah... I'm used to it anyway. So many sad people come to Hogwarts, and people always find their way here—boys, girls, upperclassmen, lowerclassmen..."
They came, cried, poured out all their grievances, and then left, leaving me alone here in this empty washroom... forever alone...
Hermione was somewhat uncomfortable with Moaning Myrtle's volatile emotions, and even found it a little funny and exasperating.
Strangely, Moaning Myrtle's exaggerated sobbing, her overly familiar complaints, and her undisguised loneliness actually calmed the shame and agitation surging within her somewhat.
At least here, she wasn't the only abnormal one.
A weeping ghost and a disheveled girl seem to create a strange balance.
Moreover, the ghost didn't seem to really care about her predicament, only making a few perfunctory complaints without any intention of getting to the bottom of it.
"Th... thank you," Hermione whispered, then raised her hand to wipe away the remaining tear tracks on her cheek.
She turned around, walked to a relatively clean stone pool, and forcefully turned on the rusty faucet.
Fortunately, there was still water.
The icy water gushed out, carrying a damp chill.
She scooped up a handful of cold water and splashed it onto her burning cheeks.
A bone-chilling cold instantly spread, making her shiver.
My previously chaotic mind seemed to be awakened by the cold water, becoming somewhat clearer.
She repeatedly splashed cold water on her face until the burning sensation on her cheeks gradually subsided, leaving only a cool touch, before turning off the tap.
She looked up at the mirror above the pool, which was covered in steam and grime.
A strange girl was reflected in the mirror.
Her hair was disheveled and stuck to her forehead and cheeks, her eyes were red and swollen, and there were faint dark circles around her eyes.
His face was pale from the cold water, but his lips were an unnatural red from the force of his clenching.
Is this still the Hermione Granger known for her calm and rationality?
Just because of Draco Malfoy, he's become this disheveled and pathetic?
An indescribable sense of frustration and resentment welled up inside her, causing her nose to sting again.
No, she can't do that.
She is Hermione Granger, not the kind of girl who cries over the smallest things.
Draco Malfoy is just a...
His actions were merely to embarrass her; why should she let him succeed?
Why let his few words throw you into a panic?
Hermione took a few deep breaths of the damp, cold air in the bathroom.
The icy air rushed into her lungs, making her shiver, but it also made her more rational.
She reached out and carefully combed her messy hair, tucking the stray strands behind her ears.
Then he smoothed out the wrinkles in his wizard robes, trying to make himself look neater.
She took deep breaths repeatedly, trying to calm her still somewhat rapid breathing and let her wildly beating heart slowly return to normal.
My brain started working again, and although the chaotic thoughts hadn't completely dissipated, at least it was no longer a blank slate.
She began to try to sort out everything that had just happened.
Every scene replayed clearly in her mind, causing a flush to rise on her cheeks again.
This time, however, she was not swayed by her emotions, but instead tried to analyze the situation rationally.