The Girl Who Lived Volume 1 by Moishe Goldman Free Novel Reading Chapter 97

A year and a half, eighteen fucking months—that’s how long Hermione, Elvira, Justin, and I spent perfecting our ultra-secret operational base. All that time, I read various books on rune magic and pored over ancient tomes from the family library, contributing something new to the defenses almost every month. My friends kept up the good work and actively participated, offering ideas or searching for interesting things in the school library. Justin didn’t like combing through the school’s hoard of knowledge, so he helped us with calculations; he was excellent at simplifying and optimizing cumbersome runic diagrams. Finch-Fletchley himself modestly said that his mathematical mind came from his father, then continued with a smile that his grandmother was a fortune teller. Perhaps that’s why the young aristocrat spent all his free time trying to discover a gift for prophecy. True, there hadn’t been any progress so far, but Justin hadn’t given up and regularly peered into the crystal ball I’d given him for Christmas. Incidentally, I’d bought that round thing with the fog inside at a specialty shop McGonagall had recommended; they sold a lot of useless stuff there. So, probably from nerves or shock, my thoughts were off track again, and my right eye started twitching.

I looked again at the unexpected guest, and my recent video call with Black flashed back to me. He still cringes at being called “grandfather.” Just a week ago, I’d shown this powerful mage what we’d concocted here, and he’d nodded respectfully, even whistling respectfully at the sight of a couple of solutions. Just recently, one of the most powerful wizards in the Soviet Union had praised our defenses and said that breaking them would require long and painstaking efforts, most likely by a well-coordinated group of curse breakers. That was, of course, assuming this professional and trained group even found our refuge, as we weren’t focusing on traps, but on stealth and various distraction charms. Taken together, all the rune arrays we’d cast were somewhat reminiscent of the Fidelius Charm—well, almost, since we were still a long way from higher magic.

Looking at the silver-haired angel with the Ravenclaw tie, I had a sneaking suspicion it was Dumbledore under the Polyjuice. Only a wizard of his power and skill could have gotten past all the crap we’d conjured up here; no ordinary first-year could have found this place! But Luna Lovegood walked in calmly and, without even a trace, opened the door covered in protective runes, as if they weren’t even there! The latter was the most frustrating, because last year, for one hundred and fifty Galleons, I’d bought the twins their unique rune protection circuit with aura authentication—a piece of cake. It might seem crazy, but the idea of ​​identical faces worked like a charm and kept unauthorized users out, until today…

A frail girl stood in the middle of the spacious room, half her face obscured by enormous star-shaped glasses with rhinestones, and orange combat boots peeking out from under her fitted robe. Luna had begged me for these combat boots back in September and had been wearing them ever since, dyeing them every week in the most addictive colors.

“Hello, friends, I’ve missed you,” the girl sang in an angelic voice and broke into an innocent smile, then took off her glasses and looked at us with her milky-white eyes. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Hello, Luna.” I came to my senses first and returned the greeting with a smile. “Me too.”

The boys didn’t hesitate to greet our guest, and I, as usual, turned on my empathy and scanned the girl. This had become a habit over the past few months, and the thought that this was the director in the guise of a little girl was nagging at me. What if the old man had fetishes? Praise the Creator, my foolish suspicions were unfounded. Luna, as always, exuded warmth, light, and purity; in that sense, she was unique. A kind smile involuntarily appeared on my face, and I also felt a slight awkwardness. Next to this little angel, I feel like a bloodthirsty monster with a dark soul; she is so innocent. The girl has survived great misfortune and still remained kind and honest, unlike me. But I don’t envy her, as I never wanted to become a hero, much less a bright one. Maybe that’s why I sometimes turn into a crazed maniac and sadist? No, that’s nonsense. Would a maniac really protect his family and friends? That’s right, he won’t, so it’s all fine. And what methods I use to punish those who hurt my loved ones is of no consequence.

While I was lost in my thoughts, this spontaneous fidget skipped off to explore the furnishings of our refuge. Clicking on the metal heels that Hermione had fitted her with, she quickly found herself at the self-healing mannequins and examined them with interest. Next came the turn of the makeshift ring, and the girl, tilting her head to the side, stared at the punching bag stuffed with sawdust.

– Luna, how did you find us? – I caught the girl’s attention.

“The Brain Sniffers told me.” Luna smiled slyly and looked around again. “It’s so cute here, did you do all this yourself?”

“The Nargles helped us.” My best friend couldn’t help but smile. “But mostly on their own.”

– I see. – Lovegood’s gaze fell on the rack with bladed weapons. – Wow! And this one looks like Godric Gryffindor’s sword!

Before I could blink, the curious first-year was already clutching a hefty bastard in her fragile, grasping hands. Mia and I had used these blades during training, so I was at peace, as cutting myself on the dull blade was practically impossible. But Ron still channeled his “big brother” side and quickly walked toward the curious guest.

“Luna, be careful!” Ryzhik turned to the girl with concern. “You could cut yourself!”

“Thank you, Sixth.” Luna put the blade back in place and sighed sadly. “No, not him.”

“Do you know what Gryffindor’s sword looks like?” Hermione’s eyes lit up. Of course! Now they were talking about a magical wonder weapon. “It’s considered a lost relic, and in all the books I’ve read, they always describe and depict it differently.”

“We believe you.” Ron appeared next to Luna and, like an older brother, confidently took her hand. “Let’s go have some tea, we have sweets and chocolate chip cookies.”

– And there are also cakes! – Lavender took our stash out of the drawer. – Strawberry ones.

– Hey! You said they were gone! – Ron looked at the blonde with an offended expression.

“You asked about banana ones.” Brown stuck her tongue out at the guy. “There wasn’t a word about strawberry ones.”

“You should have clarified,” Parvati supported her friend. “Learn to formulate questions correctly.”

“And then you’ll get the answers you need.” Lavender placed the vase on the table. “Don’t worry, there’s enough for everyone.”

“My mum’s going to send me her signature pie,” Ron looked at the girls sarcastically. “And you won’t get a single piece until you guess the filling, that’s it! And for the can… cosprite… Ugh, con-s-piration, I won’t even open the box.”

– That’s not fair! – Padma looked up from her book. – What do the others have to do with it?

While the boys were playfully bickering, Luna slipped out of her “big brother’s” clutches and in the blink of an eye found herself in front of the metal cabinet. I tensed up and leaned forward, holding my breath, while my best friend, sitting next to me, clenched her fists in anticipation. This mini-Gringotts, designed by the Order’s finest artificers, boasted the highest level of security and was intended for storing weapons. Only Hermione and I could open the doors of this safe, as only we knew the six-digit combination for the cold iron lock. Why not a blood bond? It can be bypassed—a couple of drops of blood is enough, but the necessary combination still needs to be plucked from the depths of my memory. Of course, there’s Veritaserum, but it’s unlikely a potential thief would bother that much; they’d likely use Imperio, and then no amount of protection would help.

Meanwhile, the gray-haired girl gently ran her hand over the metal door, then noticed the round handle of the combination lock and began excitedly twisting it back and forth. Ron didn’t immediately notice Luna was missing, but when he saw what she was doing, he shrugged and calmly headed over to us, or rather, to the cakes. We sipped tea for a while and watched the budding safecracker’s actions; even Vasya poked his nose out, but nothing happened. I was about to interrupt the safe’s torment and force Luna to sit down at the table, but I heard a loud click—the lock gave in.

– Oh my… – my familiar hissed quietly. – So much for Lunka – the Golden Hand.

“Eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds.” Justin looked away from his watch and thoughtfully at Luna. “And why am I not surprised…”

– How did that happen? – Lavender spilled tea past her mouth. – Did she really succeed?

“As you see.” Padma adjusted her blue tie with a knowing look. “If we take random number theory into account, we’d also need to factor in luck, multiplied by Mercury’s retrograde factor. And don’t forget the position of the other celestial bodies, the current weather, your date of birth, and fifty-eight other factors… Then it’s entirely possible, once every few centuries…”

“Let’s go into more detail here.” Finch-Fletchley perked up and pulled a notepad and pencil out of his pocket. “What kind of luck is this and how do you calculate it?”

“There’s a numerological theory…” Our friend from the Smart Guys department moved closer to the young aristocrat and, lowering her voice, continued. “It’s rather controversial, but if you do the math…”

“Mistress, take care of that little one like you would your own ass! I promise you, we’ll never get lost together. ” The snake pinched my ear, distracting me from my interesting lecture, and hissed admiringly. ” Look at her, she can crawl through any window and pick any lock! Such talent is wasted!”

While I was in mild shock, this little gray-haired girl began rummaging through the depths of the weapons cabinet with interest, soon pulling out a tactical helmet with a bulletproof glass visor. Luna twirled it in her hands and, with a sweet smile, placed it on her head. The helmet was enchanted, so it quickly shrank to almost the right size, only dangling slightly. I watched with affection as the girl, giggling happily, pounded her fist on the lowered glass visor, and then suddenly I couldn’t smile anymore and ran towards her as fast as I could. To my friends, it seemed like I had apparated, because a second later my breathless bulk appeared in front of the gray-haired first-year. This little girl was holding a MON-50 (Author’s note: anti-personnel fragmentation mine with directional damage) in one hand and a detonator in the other, which she had already started to screw in! It’s no wonder she’s a Ravenclaw, since she figured out how this big machine works so quickly.

– Luna, please give it to me. – I stretched out my right hand, breathing heavily. – These things are very dangerous.

“I’m wearing protection.” The girl tapped her fist on her head, where she was wearing a helmet. “It’s durable.”

“Of course.” I nodded in response. “And the rest of the body? This thing will blow up so badly that only the head will remain.”

“Then I’m not interested.” The first-year student shrugged and handed me the mine with the fuse half-screwed in, then went back into the closet. “There’s so much interesting and unusual stuff here, and some really strange magic, too…”

“Luna, please, I beg you.” I pulled out the detonator and breathed a sigh of relief. “This cabinet was locked for a reason. It contains very dangerous artifacts, so don’t open it again.”

“Not all, this one was created to protect and defend…” The girl ran her hand over the glass visor of her helmet, then looked into my worried eyes. “Okay, I promise I won’t open these metal doors again.”

“Don’t be offended…” Unable to resist, I hugged the fragile first-year student. “I’d happily never open it myself and study in peace.”

“But you can’t,” Luna rested her forehead on my chest and whispered. “This is your destiny.”

– What? – I lowered my head in bewilderment.

“It’s okay, you misheard.” The little gray-haired girl smiled innocently. “I’ll keep Jacob for myself?”

– Whom?

The girl chuckled and tapped her fist on her head, which was covered by a camouflage-covered helmet with a bulletproof glass visor. How could I refuse her? A silly smile crept across my face and I nodded, then took this innocent little angel by the hand and led her to the table. All the while, I was musing on the growing number of people who like to name inanimate objects: first Victoria, then Hermione, now Luna. I wonder what Ron named his broom? I hope it’s a girl’s name, otherwise…

– Luna, would you like tea with honey or condensed milk? – Lavender began pouring the hot drink into cups. – Or maybe hot chocolate?

“Both, and you can do without bread,” the blonde angel sang in response and nimbly plopped down on the chair her “big brother” had solicitously dragged over. “Do you have any jam made from Sosnowsky’s hogweed?”

“What?! They make jam out of it?!” Elvira’s nose squirted with tea. “It’s incredibly rare and more valuable than Nundu blood, since it grows in the remote taiga and feeds on bears, but it doesn’t disdain human flesh either. The teacher told me that only veteran hunters and groups of at least ten people hunt it.”

“Oh well.” Luna shrugged and reached for the pastries. “In January, Dad returned from Europe and picked up The Quibbler again. That’s our magazine, it’s very interesting and informative. In the latest issue, he added a culinary section and published the secret recipe for this delicacy.” The girl lowered her voice. “The heliopaths told him about it; he spent the entire spring communicating with them.”

– And he didn’t meet any reptilians? – I couldn’t help myself, because this magazine reminded me of a channel from a past life.

“I don’t know… I’ve never heard of them…” Lovegood scratched the back of her head thoughtfully. “But I’ll ask Dad, he should know.”

“He’s like a reptilian himself…” Ron muttered. “He’s completely… Shh…” It was Hermione who kicked him under the table.

“Luna, how can I subscribe to your magazine?” Her best friend looked at the girl with interest. “I didn’t see it on the periodicals list at the post office.”

– I want to too. – I was really interested.

“Am I any worse?” Justin leaned forward. “I’ve only heard about this ‘Quibbler’ of yours, but I’ve never seen one.”

“Do you really want to subscribe to our magazine?” Tiny tears appeared in the corners of his milky eyes, and we all nodded in response, even Ron. “It’s… I’ll be right back… Wait…”

Luna quickly dug into her bag and pulled out a stack of homemade subscription forms. The parchment was cheap, the handwriting childish, but everything was neat and beautifully done; someone had put in a lot of effort. Everyone at the table put down their cups and picked up quills in support of our friend. There was, however, another issue—financial. Luna’s father doesn’t work, and it’s unclear how the family makes a living. Otherwise, they’d get a few extra Galleons a month, but naturally, I didn’t say anything out loud, nor did anyone else.

“Why didn’t the cabinet shock you?” Parvati asked as she handed Luna the completed form. “It gave me quite a jolt.”

“After the twentieth failed attempt, to be exact,” Padma agreed with her sister. “I was counting.”

A malicious grin appeared on my face. Those curious fools—I’m talking about Lavender and Parvati—tried to guess the lock combination in front of me, but without success. The safe had an additional layer of security: it would discharge lightning bolts after a certain number of incorrect combinations.

– I remember! – Ron laughed cheerfully. – Your hair was standing on end all evening!

– You should keep quiet… – Lavender snorted. – Who showed up three days ago with a black eye and a pig’s snout?

“Let’s not talk about that,” Justin rubbed his cheekbone and looked at me disapprovingly. “We were the victims of a provocation by older Slytherin students, because, at the request of a certain green-eyed girl, we were looking for something where it shouldn’t be, in principle.”

“They’ve really gotten cheeky!” Ron said, backing up his friend. “We barely even got inside before those two started calling us names and blaming us for all the troubles! Like we’re the ones laying out dung bombs there at night, and then they even started fighting!”

“But we fought bravely and took some serious beatings.” The young aristocrat continued to glare at me. “It was the first time in my life that I’d been dunked headfirst into a filthy toilet, but I took it with dignity.”

“Never mind, mate, we’ll show them!” Ron pulled a plate of cookies towards himself and began to eat away the bad memories. “And I told you right away that he wouldn’t hide the entrance to his hideout in the toilet – that’s not the Slytherin way.”

“By your logic, the entrance should be in the director’s tower.” Lavender looked reproachfully at the redhead. “It’s secret, so it should be in the most unexpected place.”

– But not in the toilet! – Weasley did not give in. – Especially not in the girls’.

“How do you know what was there a thousand years ago?” Elvira intervened. “Do you know how they used to build toilets in castles?”

My friends immediately started arguing about the location of the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Mia and I hadn’t forgotten about our plan, but since I was busy with detentions, I decided to involve my friends in the search, under a non-disclosure agreement, of course. While the female members of our group enthusiastically embraced the idea and, within a couple of weeks, had combed through every women’s restroom in the castle, the boys, to put it mildly, weren’t thrilled. Ron and Justin agreed to help with the search, but they dragged their feet for weeks, and on their first foray, they got a good beating from the Slytherins. As the saying goes, the boys wandered into the wrong area and encountered some local thugs, who explained to them that Gryffindors have no business in the dungeons. For this reason, the search stalled, as the boys flatly refused to search the rest of the restrooms, and, in principle, I agreed with them.

“What are you looking for?” Luna’s angelic voice interrupted the heated argument. “Is it something important?”

Everyone at the table looked at the first-year student, who had managed to get paints out of her bag and began painting the helmet I’d given her. A cute yellow smiley face had already appeared on the glass visor, and bright blue wings—a butterfly or a dragonfly, it wasn’t clear yet—were visible on the back of her head. Vasya and Flora were actively assisting her! The snake held a palette in its mouth, and the fairy hovered nearby with a stack of brushes, squeaking loudly.

– Um… – Ron was stunned by this picture. – The Chamber of Secrets, probably…

“Is this where the great Salazar conducted his experiments and held orgies?” Milky-white eyes blinked innocently a couple of times. “I’ve heard of it…”

– From whom? – This question sounded almost in chorus.

“From Dad.” The girl smiled and continued decorating the helmet. “He said there’s a secret room under the castle where the Minister of Magic and the Headmaster brew moonshine from brain-pecker mushrooms, and after tasting, they play a game called the Hogwarts Express. Sometimes they invite Ministry officials and the Board of Governors over, and the driver is always the one who drinks the most.”

“Luna, this isn’t the room we’re looking for.” I barely held back my laughter as I imagined Dumbledore and Fudge playing “train ‘n’ train, mind you, mind you.”

“We’re kind of looking for a ritual hall…” Hermione muttered, blushing. “There’s supposed to be a basilisk there.”

“But he’s here.” Luna stroked Vasya and handed the brush to the fairy circling around her. “And as for the room, Dad always said that any search begins with questioning witnesses.”

“If only we could find them…” I muttered, remembering Black. “Everyone who was there has completely forgotten about her existence.”

“You’re looking in the wrong place.” Luna looked into my eyes. “When was the last time the secret room was opened?”

– Almost fifty years ago… – I stopped myself. – Come on… From where?

– What are you talking about? – The girl blinked her eyes innocently. – Better look at what a rebellious shit is coming out. – The girl turned the helmet around and showed me a colorful drawn crocodile. – Isn’t it cute?

“Luna, I’ll give you a bulletproof vest.” I couldn’t resist and went for a hug, while everyone else looked at us like we were idiots. “You can draw him full of snorkels and nargles, but don’t draw him as a homosexual—they’re bad…”

 

***

 

“Rigel, are you serious?” Mia hurried alongside us as we walked to the women’s restroom on the third floor. “Didn’t the DMP investigators question her?”

– Do they need it? – I turned my head. – Well, the mudblood died – who cares.

Yesterday’s conversation with Luna gave me food for thought, and after returning to my bedroom, I immediately called my grandfather, who was immediately bombarded with questions. Specifically, does the Fidelius Charm work on ghosts? And then he thought about it, hard. This ultimate concealment spell erases the location of an object from the memory of all living beings, but ghosts aren’t considered such—they’re simply imprints of a person’s personality. Which means the blob of ectoplasm that thinks it’s Myrtle Warrington must remember something that happened fifty years ago! How could I not have guessed that?! Even in the movies, the weakling Harry asked Myrtle how she died, and she told him about the yellow glowing orbs she saw before she died.

Thank goodness, our get-together yesterday took place on a Saturday evening, and on Sundays, all detentions take place in the morning. So, right after lunch, my friend and I rushed off to interrogate some crazy ghost. We didn’t bother our friends—they had their own worries. Ron had started Quidditch practice, Justin was looking for the Third Eye, Elvira was in Potions, the chatty scouts were busy searching for fresh information, and Padma was hanging out with the twins and Goldstein. Parvati’s sister somehow seamlessly integrated into the company of crazy artifact makers and has been proudly holding the title of Senior Experimental Designer for a couple of months now, assisted in this challenging task by first-years who were also accepted onto the staff. At this rate, Anthony will have a small factory or manufacturing facility by the time he graduates.

– Miiiirl! – I opened the toilet door slightly. – Are you here?

– Myrtle, come here! – Mia entered the toilet. – We need to talk.

“Miiiirl, I promise we won’t hurt you.” I spoke in a gentle voice and looked reproachfully at my friend. “We just want to ask you something.”

– No! – A pitiful girl’s voice came from the far booth. – You will hurt me!

– Hmm, I remembered, well… – I muttered quietly, and then spoke loudly and tenderly. – Myrtle, we just want to talk, please come out!

“We won’t hurt you!” Hermione continued, a sly grin plastered across her face and her wand clutched in her hands. “Honestly, honestly.”

“Okay,” a girl’s uncertain voice came from the toilet. “You promised!”

A translucent girl of about fifteen emerged from the far booth, wearing a Ravenclaw school uniform and tie. Myrtle had a rather pretty face, but it was marred by round, horn-rimmed glasses, crooked teeth, and hamster-like cheeks. But my gaze dropped lower, and I realized that her face was rarely looked at, as she had enormous, gigantic breasts! Even the oversized robe, which resembled a robe, couldn’t hide her charms. And considering she was short, shorter than me, this “assets” stood out even more. I think I was beginning to guess the cause of her death, but I might be wrong.

“Hello, Myrtle,” Mia greeted the intimidated ghost. “How are you?”

“I’M DIED!!!” the translucent girl screamed angrily. “Have you come to mock Moaning Myrtle, too?!”

“No, we’re not interested.” I shrugged. “We just wanted to chat.”

– Really?! – Myrtle’s face showed surprise and disbelief. – Maybe you’re wondering how I died?

– Of course! – I nodded immediately. – That’s what we wanted to talk about.

“Great!” The ghost clapped her hands joyfully and began to speak enthusiastically. “This truly terrible and tragic story happened to me when I was in my fifth year. One clear May day, I ran into this toilet and slipped on the wet floor.

For a couple of minutes, Hermione and I stared at the stupidly smiling girl, waiting for the story to continue, but she remained silent. Could it really be that simple and banal?

– That’s it? – My best friend couldn’t resist asking. – You just fell?

– Of course not! – The ghost blinked stupidly and pointed. – I also hit the back of my head on that sink over there.

“Myrtle, were you questioned by the DMP investigators or the teachers?” Mia decided to clarify one more question. “Well, when you woke up in this toilet.”

“Of course! There was so much attention!” The clot of ectoplasm broke into a satisfied smile. “A whole delegation came to me and I told them this terrible story. True, they started spitting and quickly ran away, but it was still nice.”

This is some kind of nonsense. That idiot couldn’t have just died, especially since Hagrid said that Scum was “genuinely” worried about her death. And so I remembered my past life, where I was an investigator and often had to interrogate idiots. Well, let’s try a different approach.

“Myrtle,” I looked cautiously at the ghost, unburdened by intelligence. “Then why did you run into that toilet?”

“I was hiding from Tom and his friends,” the girl said, tears welling up in her eyes. “They wanted to do THIS to me again…”

– And more details? – Mia looked at the ghost with interest and took a pistol from its holster. – First names, last names.

“Riddle and his friend Nott,” Myrtle whispered softly. “Malfoy and Lestrange were with them. They… Me… Since second year… Every week…” The clot of ectoplasm began to sob, loudly and bitterly.

“Myrtle, calm down, it’s all over now.” I came closer and tried to touch her hand, but I was only hit by an otherworldly chill. “No one will hurt you again.”

“I know, I died,” the girl sobbed. “And those bastards are still alive, that’s why I’m still here.”

“I understand you…” I whispered, looking into translucent brown eyes. “Tell me and I promise I’ll punish those bastards.”

– You… – It seemed to me that a ghost looked into my soul. – I was there and you were not accepted… Just like me… Too dirty… Disgraced… – Myrtle began to sob again.

Only now did it dawn on me that this blob of ectoplasm was speaking with an all-too-conscious awareness and remembered many moments after its death. I took a step back and turned on my empathy, but the next moment, my stomach sank, as real emotions emanated from her! Myrtle wasn’t an ordinary ghost—she was a restless soul! What had happened to her that she’d decided to stay here?! What was keeping her from meeting her Maker?!

“When Madam Sprout came to our house, Mom and Dad didn’t want to let me go to Hogwarts.” The ghost’s monotonous voice interrupted my thoughts. “Then that old witch put a spell on my parents, and they spent the whole of August praising that stupid school, and then on September 1st, Dad practically took me to the station and put me on a train.” Myrtle sniffled. “I knew from childhood that I was different from everyone else, and I always dreamed of meeting my own kind… I thought we’d be friends, but… How wrong I was…”

“Is it that bad?” Mia came up to us and looked sympathetically at the translucent girl. “Tell me, maybe we can help.”

“They put me in the same room with Demeter Warrington and Sleya Shafik,” the translucent girl snorted, “a mudblood in the same room with pureblood heirs. It was an insult to them – on the very first night they paralyzed me and cast Silencio, and then poured a vial of bobunter pus on my face. I was in excruciating pain all night – this muck slowly burned my skin to the bone, and I couldn’t even move or scream. In the hospital wing, I told Headmaster Dippet everything, but he said that complaints from people of my descent are not accepted! All year I slept like a dog on the rug by the entrance!” Myrtle screamed again. “No one cared about me! No one! I complained to Professor Flitwick, but he only handed me a list of books on combat magic and asked me not to bother him anymore!” This short guy said I should learn to defend myself! But how can I do that if I’m constantly being bullied and humiliated?!

I disagreed with her on this point. I’d slit those creatures’ throats that night and give a damn about the consequences. If two underage sluts had forced me to sleep on a rug, I’d have bitten them to death and told them it was true. But Myrtle had grown up too much of a proper, homely girl, and so she silently endured all the humiliation and abuse. Even after death, she continued to complain, earning the nickname “Crybaby.”

“And then I moved up to my second year…” The ghost girl sobbed again. “And it wasn’t just the first years who started bullying me, but everyone! Even Mudbloods like me! Then I decided to complain to the new prefect, he always seemed so kind and honest… Dutan took me to an abandoned classroom and said he hated people like me, and then… Then he turned his wand into a whip and beat me until I lost consciousness. And when I came to, he declared that I was nobody and that if I continued complaining, my parents would forget I existed forever. I haven’t complained to the teachers or prefects since then…”

– Have you ever tried to fight back? – I tilted my head to the side and looked at this coward. – Even once?

“I was really scared, so I decided to run away, but it didn’t work out.” Myrtle’s shoulders slumped. “During the Christmas holidays, I told my parents everything, but they didn’t believe me! Madam Sprout’s spell was still working! Then I went to the police myself, but they didn’t believe me either and called my father, and that was the day he spanked me for the first time… I didn’t want to live on the streets, so I went back to school. That’s how cowardly I am…” The girl’s spirit sobbed again. “When I returned to Hogwarts, I decided to ask Tom Riddle for help. He was considered a half-blood, even though he was from an orphanage, but he never bullied me and the whole school respected him.”