Does she want it?
She thought.
The thought roared and churned in Hermione's mind like a beast breaking free of its cage.
She wanted to know the truth about Moaning Myrtle's death.
This desire was so intense, so urgent, that it almost overwhelmed all reason and vigilance!
Hermione's breathing stopped completely.
Time ticked by, and in the washroom, Moaning Myrtle's weeping seemed distant and unreal.
Finally, Hermione's lips trembled violently.
That compromise-laden agreement almost slipped out.
But at that moment, a sharp scream abruptly cut it off in his throat.
"Oh--!"
Suddenly, the Moaning Myrtle stopped crying and let out an exaggerated gasp.
She suddenly floated up from the faucet and dashed to the bathroom door.
Of course, she has no physical form.
So she passed directly through the heavy wooden door and hovered lightly above Draco and Hermione's heads.
Suddenly, we were almost face to face.
"What are you doing?!"
Moaning Myrtle's voice rose in excitement.
"So close! Are you whispering? What are you saying?! Let me hear! Waaah... I hate it when people whisper and don't let me hear! When they were alive, Oliver and the others always did this, hiding in the corner of the corridor and whispering, leaving me hanging!"
She complained incessantly.
He forcefully moved his face, covered in thick glasses, between Draco and Hermione.
"He's leaning close to your ear! What's he saying? Is he whispering sweet nothings? Waaah... No boy has ever treated me like this when I was alive! They just laughed at my glasses and said I looked like a dull, bookish nerd!"
Her voice echoed in the empty bathroom, tinged with sobs and a fervent thirst for gossip.
She even tried to put her ear close to Draco's mouth.
Of course, nothing could be heard; it simply passed through his body in vain, turning into a wisp of white smoke, which then reformed.
"He's quite good-looking..."
Moaning Myrtle suddenly stopped and carefully examined Draco's pale yet delicate profile.
Her tone carried a hint of infatuated envy and jealousy.
"Light blonde hair, grey-blue eyes... like a prince from a painting! Waaah... why are all handsome guys like this! They're always whispering to other girls! They never talk to me!"
Then she turned her gaze to Hermione, scrutinizing her flushed cheeks, flustered eyes, and slightly trembling lips with a critical look.
"You're blushing! You must have heard something incredible! Tell me! What did he say? Was he confessing his feelings to you?"
"Waaah... It's so unfair! Why doesn't anyone confess their love to me! I've been dead for so many years, and no one has come to see me! Only you living people come to my bathroom crying and sobbing, whispering sweet nothings and showing off your love right in front of me!"
"Confess... confess your feelings?!"
The word struck Hermione like a thunderbolt, exploding in her chaotic mind and instantly drowning out all other thoughts.
A surge of shame, indignation, and anger shot from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head.
This caused her cheeks, which were already flushed from excitement, to turn bright red instantly, all the way down to her ears and neck, as if she were about to breathe hot air out of them!
"I didn't!" she retorted almost reflexively.
Her voice rose in pitch due to excitement and shame, even becoming somewhat distorted.
She whirled around, glaring angrily at the ghost that was flitting between her and Draco, trying to eavesdrop.
" Moaning Myrtle! What nonsense are you spouting?!"
Hermione's voice trembled slightly from her rapid breathing and intense shame.
"No, that's not what you think! We're just talking about serious matters!"
But her rebuttal was nothing short of a cover-up in Moaning Myrtle's ghostly mind, which was filled with romance novels and self-pity.
Moaning Myrtle floated even closer, almost pressing her face against Hermione's.
Although I walked straight through it, a chill still lingered in my air.
"I'm not kidding! Your face is as red as a boiled slug! Redder Filch's cat when it gets burned! Waaah... I knew it! He was definitely saying sweet nothings! Was he saying 'You're so pretty' or 'I like you'? I read those in romance novels in the library when I was alive! Tell me exactly what he said! Not a single word can be left out!"
Hermione was absolutely furious.
She had never been so embarrassed in her life!
Ask Draco Malfoy, the one who started this whole thing, if he's going to confess his feelings!
This made her feel more ashamed and humiliated than anything else had happened before!
"Shut up, Moaning Myrtle!" Hermione was both angry and anxious.
"Absolutely not! We're talking about... about something very important! It has nothing to do with you! Stop talking nonsense!"
She tried to explain, but what was important to Moaning Myrtle had already automatically been interpreted as a romantic remark.
Moaning Myrtle became even more excited.
She started circling around the two of them, muttering all sorts of far-fetched romantic speculations.
One minute they'll guess it's a heart-fluttering confession after a hero saves a damsel in distress.
One moment I'd guess it was some awkward attempt at reconciliation from a sworn enemy.
The noise made Hermione's ears ring.
Hermione felt a sudden, intense dizziness and weakness.
She dared not look at Draco again and could only stand there stiffly.
Her back pressed tightly against the cold door frame, enduring the mental bombardment from Moaning Myrtle and the churning shame and indignation within herself.