久艾草在线视频免得

Chapter 58 - 58 Ghost Myrtle



Chapter 58: Ghost Myrtle

"This is the girls' lavatory. What are you two professors doing here, sneaking around?" She looked at the two professors with suspicion. "Even if no one's using it, the girls' lavatory is not a place where male professors should be. I'm going to report both of you!"

Dracula and Dumbledore's faces stiffened. They had never expected to be spotted by a ghost that resided in the lavatory, even though they had avoided the gaze of everyone else.

"Moaning Myrtle, we are here to investigate something unusual," Dumbledore said gently, clearly familiar with the ghost.

Moaning Myrtle seemed skeptical and retorted, "I've been here the whole time and can guarantee there's nothing unusual in this lavatory. You must be making excuses for your behavior!"

As she spoke, Myrtle tried to float through the ceiling to spread the news about the headmaster and professor being in the girls' lavatory.

"How could there be nothing unusual? Were you not here when Quirrell sneaked in this morning?" Dracula called after her, pressing for an answer.

"Just because I said there's nothing unusual doesn't mean there isn't," Myrtle replied, turning her head towards Dracula with a dissatisfied look.

Then she froze in place.

"Are you... a new professor?" Myrtle's eyes seemed to light up with heart-shaped reflections, and her tone became noticeably softer, a stark contrast to her previous demeanor. "Wow, I've never seen such a handsome professor. Can I attend your classes?"

Dracula's mouth twitched.

"Yes, Myrtle, this is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Dumbledore said with a smile, while also giving Dracula a meaningful glance. "If you want to attend classes, you can go to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the second floor. It's not far from here."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" Myrtle's eyes were suddenly filled with joy. "Then you're going to encounter trouble this year, right? If you die, make sure to come here and find me. I'd love to share the toilet with you."

Myrtle blushed, her eyes darting around, completely lost in thoughts of a bright future.

Dracula turned to Dumbledore, his expression darkening.

"Dumbledore, don't tell me you, as a headmaster, were unaware of the presence of a mentally unstable ghost here?" he asked.

"After all, this is a girls' lavatory. I generally wouldn't come here," Dumbledore explained. "I recall that Myrtle died decades ago, but I didn't expect her to still linger here."

"Is this where she died?" Dracula furrowed his brow, feeling that there must be some hidden secret, "How did she die? Was it because of this lavatory itself?"

"This relates to an event from fifty years ago," Dumbledore sighed and spoke softly. "At that time, Hogwarts experienced a series of attacks. Myrtle was the only witch who died during the attacks. But I still don't know the truth about those attacks."

Dracula then turned his gaze to the ghost named Moaning Myrtle.

"Madam, could you tell me about what happened here fifty years ago?" His eyes gleamed with a peculiar light, and he displayed a slightly sinister smile.

However, Dracula's usual effective questioning approach seemed to fail today.

Upon seeing Dracula's smile, Myrtle not only didn't answer his question but instead started another round of hysteria—

"Professor... wuwuwu my professor..."

"..."

"So she really is mentally unstable, isn't she?" Dracula's smile froze on his face as he turned to Dumbledore, who was observing from the side, "Do you have any way to help her return to normal?"

"Clearly, Professor Dracula, Myrtle's mental state has become like this because of you," Dumbledore shrugged and chuckled with a hint of schadenfreude. "So, it's up to you to help her get back to normal."

Dracula looked again at the still hysterical Myrtle and fell into thought.

"Keep an eye on this ghost and make sure she doesn't go around spreading rumors. I'm going to find some external help," he suddenly said to Dumbledore.

Before Dumbledore could respond, Dracula disappeared in a swirl of bat shadows.

Dumbledore stared for a moment, then shrugged and took out a bag of fizzing honey candies from his pocket, enjoying them in the lavatory.

...

Soon, Dracula returned to the gloomy, eerie girls' lavatory.

Myrtle was now floating in mid-air, crying and wailing, while Dumbledore continued to comfort her while chewing on the honey candies.

"Do you think I don't know what others call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Pitiful, weepy, glum Myrtle!" she sobbed. "Now even the handsome professor dislikes me. I want to die!"

Myrtle was disheartened, thinking Dracula had left because he was disgusted by her, although that was indeed part of the reason... Now she was contemplating drowning herself in the toilet.

"Don't be so sad, Myrtle," Dumbledore said soothingly, "Professor Dracula wouldn't have left because he dislikes you. Look, he's come back."

He pointed to Dracula, who had just returned.

Seeing Dracula, Myrtle seemed to cheer up a bit and emerged from the toilet.

"Yes, there's no need to treat yourself like this, Myrtle," Dracula nodded. "Don't forget you're already dead. You can't drown yourself."

Upon hearing his words, Myrtle became even more upset and stuffed herself back into the toilet.

"Professor Dracula, I thought you'd say something comforting," Dumbledore looked at Dracula with a hint of resignation.

"What's the point of comforting others? I never do such meaningless things," Dracula said nonchalantly. "Look, isn't the sight of a ghost floundering in a toilet quite interesting? Rest assured, she won't drown!"

Dumbledore was left helpless. It seemed that for Dracula, anything deemed meaningless was considered pointless...

"Forget it, let's move on," Dumbledore changed the topic. "Where is the external help you've arranged?"

"Right over there," Dracula nodded toward the back wall of the lavatory.

A tall, long-haired ghost slowly floated through the wall and approached the two.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.