Even though a night had passed, it was obvious Hermione hadn’t recovered from what happened yesterday. You could tell just by watching her at breakfast.
First, there was the fierce glare she shot in Draco’s direction. Then, the mont he noticed, she imdiately looked away. It was clear she hadn’t been able to forget that embarrassing mont so easily.
Especially the mory of herself panting and moaning helplessly in front of Draco—it kept flashing through her mind every ti she closed her eyes, making her toss and turn all night...
Now, desperate to avoid thinking about that awful mory, Hermione had decided to keep herself busy. With Harry Potter and the others covering for her, she slipped away to the secluded spot she’d chosen to brew her Polyjuice Potion.
"Alohomora."
But just as she cast the Unlocking Charm, the last person she wanted to run into appeared before her eyes—leaving her both stunned and horrified.
Strangely, even though she had every intention of turning and running, Hermione froze the instant she saw Draco and Myrtle “alone together” in the room.
In her brown eyes, there was clear judgnt—like Draco couldn’t even leave ghosts alone—and beneath that, a strange, faint irritation she couldn’t explain...
Since that day, Draco had been acting much more casual toward Hermione.
So when he saw her giving him that kind of “you’re disgusting” look, he didn’t hesitate—he smacked her lightly on the head.
“Ahh!”
Hermione clutched her head and crouched down, her eyes watering. Looked like Draco hadn’t held back.
“What was that for?!”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”
“…”
Seeing the look on Draco’s face darken, Hermione glanced away awkwardly, unable to admit what she'd just been thinking.
She realized then that she’d probably misunderstood the situation between Draco and Myrtle. As she slowly stood up, she quietly stuck out her tongue in embarrassnt and stole a glance at Draco’s face.
"How should I know what the two of you were doing in here..."
"What are you mumbling about? You’re not badmouthing , are you?"
"I... I’m not that childish!"
Draco suddenly leaned in, and Hermione jolted like a cat that had just had its tail stepped on, jumping back and pressing herself against the wall.
That look of alarm, as if she'd just encountered a natural predator, made Draco smile—and that smile, annoyingly enough, made Hermione’s heart skip a beat.
But Draco didn’t take it any further. Instead, he pulled back to give her space.
"As fun as this is, we’ve got more important things to deal with."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, but also gave Draco a puzzled look, curious about what “important thing” he was talking about.
Truth was, the mont Draco saw Hermione here, he imdiately figured out who had left behind the potion ingredients and the ssy cauldron.
The faint sll in the air—that had to be the lingering scent of the Polyjuice Potion.
Still... Draco felt like there was sothing else. Sothing he was missing.
Leaving behind the still-curious Hermione, he turned back to Myrtle.
She was looking at him—and at Hermione—with a strange expression. Draco didn’t understand why, but he didn’t dwell on it. He simply explained the real reason he’d co...
“Do you rember how you died?”
Hermione rolled her eyes hard at the blunt question. Sure, Myrtle was technically “dead,” but wasn’t that way too direct?
No matter what, dying couldn’t possibly be a pleasant mory, could it?
“Ahem, what he ans is...”
Hermione wasn’t sure why she even tried to step in for Draco, but just as she opened her mouth to soften the question, Myrtle cut her off.
“Ohhh, it was terrible!”
“Eh?”
To their surprise, Myrtle didn’t get upset at all. In fact, she looked almost... pleased to be asked.
Hermione blinked, confused, then turned to glance at Draco, who stood there looking entirely unfazed—like he’d expected that exact reaction.
She’d thought Myrtle would burst into tears and float off in a dramatic huff. But instead, she found herself getting drawn into the ghost’s story...
“It happened right here. I died in this bathroom. I rember it perfectly!”
Maybe it was because she hadn’t talked to a living person in so long, but Myrtle didn’t just tell the story—she acted it out, her exaggerated expressions making it hard to believe she was even dead.
“At the ti, Olive Hornby teased for wearing glasses, called a four-eyed dog. I was so angry I ca here to hide.”
“Then I locked the stall door and cried by myself. I don’t know how long I’d been in there when I suddenly heard soone co in.”
Draco, who had been silently listening, suddenly looked down—because soone had grabbed onto his arm.
The small hand belonged to Hermione, who was so caught up in the story she hadn’t even noticed. Her expression—curious, a little nervous—was honestly kind of cute...
“But the weird part was, I couldn’t understand a single word they were saying. It must’ve been so other language, I guess? What really annoyed was—it was a boy’s voice! And this is the girls’ bathroom!”
“Mhm!”
Hermione nodded firmly in agreent, shooting a aningful glance at Draco out of the corner of her eye. The look on her face was so smug, Draco almost reached out and pinched her cheek in retaliation.
“So I opened the door to tell him off, tell him to get out and go to the boys’ bathroom—and then—”
“And then?”
“I died!”
Hermione blinked, stunned. That... was it?
The abrupt ending left her completely bewildered, while Draco frowned slightly, clearly wanting more detail.
“How did you die?”
“I don’t know. I just rember seeing these enormous, terrifying yellow eyes. Then it felt like sothing grabbed —and the next thing I knew, I was floating away...”
“Floating away? As in, becoming a ghost?”
“Yeah. I ca back! I was determined to get back at Olive Hornby. Oh, she really regretted teasing about my glasses.”
Draco wasn’t interested in hearing about Myrtle’s revenge spree. He was more focused on piecing together the clues in her story. Hermione, anwhile, stood quietly beside him, her eyes fixed on his face, not interrupting.
That comfortable silence stretched on until Draco spoke again.
“At the ti, I was hiding in the corner, trying to scare—”
“Myrtle, can you imitate what the boy was saying?”
“The boy? Oh—no, I can’t. It was just a bunch of aningless hissing sounds. I wouldn’t even know how to mimic it.”
“Hissing?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve been hearing those kinds of noises at night again recently. Maybe soone’s trying to prank .”
At that, Hermione’s eyes snapped toward Draco’s profile.
So... he was trying to find out who had opened the Chamber of Secrets?
Without realizing it, Hermione tightened her grip on Draco’s arm...
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