Draco had gathered quite a bit of useful information during this visit—especially that final slip of the tongue from Myrtle, which stuck in his mind more than anything else.
Now, he leaned against the wall, deep in thought, completely ignoring Hermione nearby.
His instincts told him... he was getting close to the truth.
Hermione noticed the change in him right away, but being the perceptive witch she was, she didn’t interrupt. She only glanced at him occasionally, her gaze filled with worry and uncertainty.
She could tell Draco was chasing sothing—and it probably wasn’t going to be safe.
anwhile, Myrtle was still chattering away about her revenge on Olive Hornby. Heartless as ever... or well, ghosts probably didn’t have hearts anyway.
Watching Draco’s focused dedication to the investigation, Hermione began packing up the potion ingredients scattered on the floor while quietly piecing the situation together in her mind.
Judging from Draco’s questions, it was obvious now—Myrtle had been the one killed when the Chamber of Secrets was opened.
And her death had led to Hagrid being expelled and falsely accused.
That thought made Hermione glance at Myrtle a few more tis, eyes filled with sothing close to guilt.
All this ti spent around her, and she’d never known this part of her story...
“Myrtle, don’t you want to know who killed you?”
“Hm? Why would I? Didn’t they already catch the killer?”
“Hagrid would never do sothing like that!”
Hermione's glare made Myrtle flinch and imdiately float behind Draco.
“Of course no one likes Myrtle. I'm just a useless, whiny ghost who can’t stop crying.”
“...”
And right on cue, she burst into tears.
Hermione froze. That hadn’t been her intention at all. And with Draco now glancing in their direction, the embarrassnt hit even harder.
To anyone watching, it probably looked like she was bullying the poor ghost.
Panicking, Hermione dropped the potion ingredients in her hands and waved both arms toward Draco, trying to clear her na.
“I didn’t! I didn’t an it like that!”
“I’ll just stay in here alone. Not like anyone likes anyway.”
Myrtle drifted straight through a stall wall, ignoring Hermione completely, and vanished into the toilet. Monts later, the faint sound of crying echoed out, leaving Hermione to face Draco’s gaze all alone.
Her expression darkened.
For so reason, she was starting to feel like Myrtle was doing this on purpose...
“What happened? Did you actually bully her?”
“Of course not! I just wanted to ask if she knew who the killer was... Believe it or not!”
Halfway through defending herself, Hermione realized how that sounded, and with a pout, turned her head away. But once out of Draco’s sight, her face twisted into one of quiet frustration.
Draco, of course, was well-versed in her tsundere ways by now...
“If you’re asking who the real killer was, I can tell you.”
“Wait—what?!”
Hermione spun around, eyes wide with shock, her pretty face frozen in disbelief.
The look was so adorably stunned that Draco had to fight the urge to reach out and pinch her cheeks...
…
Seeing the mix of surprise and doubt on Hermione’s face, Draco just shook his head.
He could pretty much guess what she was thinking.
“It’s no use. Maybe in the beginning, people genuinely believed Hagrid was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets—but now? He’s just a scapegoat. A convenient pawn for both sides to use while pretending everything’s fine on the surface.”
“What do you an?”
Hermione’s question was t with a shrug from Draco.
He didn’t bother getting into the tangled ss of grudges between the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore. Instead, he shifted the conversation.
“Did you know that the student who accused Hagrid of opening the Chamber was actually awarded a Special Services to the School award by Hogwarts?”
“But—”
“That’s right. Hagrid wasn’t the culprit. But back then, almost no one believed him. Why? Because the student who pointed fingers at him was the top of the class—brilliant, talented, and far more liked by the professors than Hagrid, who was known for his love of monsters... and for being a half-giant.”
Draco’s words made Hermione fall silent. She bit her lip, as if holding sothing back.
But then, a thought struck her. She lifted her head, eyes sharp.
“And that student... What happened to him?”
Draco’s expression turned slightly odd as he saw the indignation in her face.
“Well... it’s actually because of who that student later beca that we now know Hagrid didn’t open the Chamber.”
“Who he beca?”
“His full na was Tom Marvolo Riddle.”
“What’s so special about that na?”
“Oh, it’s special alright. Because that student grew up to be the Dark Lord you know—Voldemort.”
“......”
The cauldron in Hermione’s hands slipped and clattered loudly to the floor.
She stood there, stunned, unable to process what she’d just heard. But now it made sense—why Draco had been so sure Hagrid wasn’t the one who opened the Chamber.
Because if anyone back then had the power to do it—and the cruelty to kill a fellow student—it would’ve been Voldemort.
And more than that...
“As for the hissing Myrtle ntioned... that must’ve been his infamous gift.”
“You an...”
“Yeah. The ability to speak to snakes—Parseltongue.”
That was likely why Draco had been so confident that Voldemort was Myrtle’s true killer.
Just as Draco said this, the door—which had been shut once more—suddenly swung open again.
This ti, the wizard who appeared...
“My dears, I finally found you. Naughty, naughty.”
“......”
“Lockhart... Professor?”
It was Lockhart—wearing his usual dazzling smile.
But the wand in his hand, and the glint in his eyes that lacked any warmth, made Draco instinctively pull Hermione behind him.
Watching the off-kilter Lockhart approach, Draco rolled his neck with a crack.
So... he’d finally made his move.
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