A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 571: Myrtle’s request for help

"Of course," Twycross woke from his perplexed expression. "So—are there other students interested? I know in this particular situation, some parents might disregard the ban for safety reasons... the Ministry isn't planning to pursue it for now."

Harry felt a pang. He stared at Malfoy, who had bragged to him long ago about a professor privately agreeing to tutor him in spells, including the Patronus Charm.

But Malfoy didn't step forward. Until the end, guided by Mr. Diggory, he merely breezed through the Animagus transformation.

A week flew by.

The Ministry spent two days screening over a thousand Hogwarts students, leaving less than a hundred who hadn't met the requirements. According to Twycross, "It impresses me greatly, significantly reducing our workload."

"If you came a few months later, even fewer students would miss out," Sirius, unsure if proud or complaining, remarked.

"Mrs. Bones is quite anxious," Twycross half-concealedly said.

Sirius pondered. He pulled Twycross aside, whispering, "I already know. I've been an assistant minister for almost two months; I have a good relationship with Amelia, she told me... Hasn't the situation improved?"

"Ah, I stumbled upon it accidentally," Twycross replied. "Recently, Muggle victims have increased. Many cases were only discovered during private Ministry investigations. Their bodies have also been stolen... Mrs. Bones fears a significant move from the unknown individuals."

Sirius frowned.

When he approached Felix about it, Felix remained unusually calm.

"Voldemort is personally involved. He seems intent on creating a batch of Inferi."

"We should stop him!" Sirius urged.

"I wish, but—like I just said, 'Voldemort is personally involved.' He's not relying on any Death Eater's power. When he decides to do this, you won't catch him."

Sirius' face stiffened. He murmured, "We've got to do something."

"We've made some preparations. In fact, it might happen in these few days—" Felix turned to Angelina Johnson sitting on a bench in the courtyard. "Miss Johnson?"

Angelina strolled over. "Are you calling me, Professor Hap?"

"Yeah, I wanted to remind you. Your hair color seems a bit different from before," Felix calmly said.

Angelina exclaimed, pulling out a small mirror from her robe, examining herself carefully. "It is!" She frowned, and the bright pink strand in her ponytail reverted to black.

"Tonks?"

In the evening, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione exited the library, it was already late, almost the last ones out. The three walked through the deserted corridors, Ron creatively cursing Snape and the homework he'd assigned.

"This is something," Harry thought. Ron seemed to have found a real use for Divination class—they could gather a continuous stream of unlucky inspirations from the class and direct them toward Snape. Suddenly, a ghostly image of a girl flashed before them.

"Myrtle?" Harry exclaimed, surprised; he hadn't seen her in a while.

"Oh, it's you," Myrtle also seemed taken aback. She turned as if to float away, then halted mid-air, frozen like a statue. Slowly turning around, a pair of bulging eyes stared at them from behind thick, round white spectacles. Harry felt uneasy; it was an assessing, weighing gaze, reminiscent of Malfoy.

"You'll do," she continued.

"What are you talking about?" Ron grumbled. "We've been rushing through homework all day, we're exhausted, and now we just want to go back to bed."

"You're friends with Draco, aren't you?" Myrtle asked.

"Who?" Ron perked up instantly.

"Draco, Draco Malfoy," Myrtle said. "He's in a bit of trouble, and I don't know who else to ask for help, certainly not the professors; that would make things worse..." She rambled, floating back and forth in mid-air.

"He hasn't been stuffed into a toilet, has he?" Ron excitedly said. "Accidentally blocked your home's plumbing too?"

"Rude!" Myrtle shouted from mid-air, then descended slowly, covering her face in embarrassment. "But he's actually in my bathroom."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks.

Myrtle daydreamed for a while before remembering her purpose. She hurriedly urged, "Will you help or not? It's getting late!"

"Who's been procrastinating... I don't want to get caught in the girls' bathroom," Ron muttered under his breath.

"You've been there quite a few times," Hermione pointed out.

They had indeed been there more than once; in their second year, they spent a considerable amount of time brewing a complex potion inside, until Malfoy found out, after which they relocated elsewhere.

"Perhaps, but for Malfoy's sake..." Ron hesitated, looking at Harry, awaiting his decision.

"Let's go take a look," Harry finally said.

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