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"Well... Myrtle, thank you for telling me about this. It's very helpful," Severus Snape said, feeling a pang of regret. If only her knack for languages were as sharp as Ron Weasley's.
Still, he was satisfied with what he'd gained from this visit. Even if he had to drag Dumbledore into playing "doorkeeper" later, he now had a decent excuse.
"Will you come back to my bathroom to see me?" Moaning Myrtle asked sadly as Snape moved toward the door. "This is the first time someone's talked to me this much."
"We'll meet again," Snape replied. He was certain he'd return here, so it wasn't exactly a lie.
"Goodbye," Myrtle said, her voice heavy with melancholy.
Snape gripped the handle, easing the bathroom door open just a sliver.
As he prepared to peek into the corridor to check for others, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end, a sharp sense of danger surging through him.
Without a second thought, he dove to the side, rolling across the filthy, waterlogged floor.
In that instant, a loud bang echoed as the door was flung open, and a scorching red light sliced through the air.
The spell struck the already cracked mirror, shattering it with a crash, sending shards scattering across the floor.
"Ahh!" a shrill female voice screamed. Myrtle, terrified, pressed herself against the wall, her eyes wide with fear.
"Murder! Murder in the bathroom! Murder!"
"Stupefy!"
A gust of wind rushed in, firing off more spells.
The curse missed slightly, smashing the toilet behind Snape. Water gushed out, flooding the surrounding floor.
It was James Potter's voice!
But Snape couldn't see anyone—James must be wearing that Invisibility Cloak!
Snape rolled again, springing to his feet and ducking behind a sink, drawing his wand to retaliate.
"Sectumsempra!"
With a bang, the candelabra near the door twisted violently, collapsing onto the ground.
The candles rolled into the puddles, their flames flickering out with a faint pff.
The bathroom plunged into darkness.
Spells whizzed through the air, hissing and crackling.
"Stop it! Stop it!" Myrtle wailed, her cries echoing in the pitch-black bathroom. "My bathroom! Stop it! Don't fight anymore!"
"Petrificus Totalus!" Snape shouted, waving his wand frantically.
Suddenly, the spells aimed at him ceased, followed by a heavy splash as something fell into the water.
"Lumos."
By the light of his wand, Snape groped along the floor.
Finally, his hand brushed against an invisible bulge rising from the ground.
With a sharp tug, he yanked off the transparent Invisibility Cloak covering James, revealing that infuriating face.
James lay sprawled on his back in the water, mouth agape, completely immobilized.
Kicking James's wand out of reach, Snape leaned down, studying him closely.
"Potter, how dare you come after me alone?"
"What should I reward your bravery with?" he said, locking eyes with James. "Let me guess—how did you know I was here?"
"And before that, how did you know Lily and I were together in Slughorn's office?" Snape emphasized Lily's name.
He bent down, rummaging through the pockets of James's robes.
"What's this little treasure?"
Snape held up a slightly creased, blank piece of parchment, eyeing James with amusement.
"Mr. Potter, why would you carry around a blank piece of parchment?"
He walked to an intact toilet, pressing the flush valve to drown out what came next.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he whispered, tapping the parchment lightly with his wand.
A small black dot appeared, moving toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
"Mischief managed," Snape said, tapping the map again, and it went blank.
"Well, that's about time." He tucked the parchment into his robes and turned to Myrtle. "Myrtle, we're friends, aren't we?"
Myrtle, still cowering in the corner, sniffled softly.
Hearing Snape's words, she looked up, stunned. "Oh… you'd really be my friend?"
"Why not?" Snape replied.
At that moment, the door behind him burst open. Professor McGonagall stormed in, wand raised.
She wore a tartan dressing gown and a hairnet, her face stern.
"Snape, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?"
Then she spotted James on the floor. "Potter! What's going on here?!"
"Professor, I was chatting with Myrtle when Potter attacked me—"
"—Yes, I can vouch for that!" Myrtle chirped, doing a delighted somersault in the air. "Severus and I were having a little gathering, and he burst in, wrecking my bathroom. Professor McGonagall, look at this mess!"
"Be quiet," McGonagall said, lifting the Petrification Charm from James. "You too, Potter."
"Wandering about in the dead of night, casting spells on your classmates!" Her lips were pale, her voice icy with anger. "Both of you, come with me to the Headmaster!"
They followed McGonagall silently through the moonlit corridors.
On the eighth floor, after turning a corner, McGonagall stopped before an enormous, hideous stone gargoyle.
This was Snape's second visit here this year. The last time, James had been there too, along with a pale-faced Remus Lupin.
"Lemon Drop," McGonagall said.
The gargoyle sprang to life, leaping aside, and the wall behind it split in two, revealing a moving spiral staircase. It rose slowly, like an escalator.
The three stepped through the gap, and as they set foot on the stone stairs, the wall closed behind them with a thud.
The staircase spiraled upward, climbing higher and higher, until it delivered them to a gleaming oak door adorned with a brass knocker shaped like a griffin.
Though it was nearly midnight, voices buzzed from within, as if Dumbledore were hosting a dozen guests.
McGonagall knocked three times on the griffin knocker, and the voices fell silent, as if switched off.
The door swung open, and she led Snape and James inside.
It was a spacious, beautiful circular room filled with odd little noises.
The room was dimly lit, with strange silver instruments humming and puffing out wisps of smoke on the desk.
Portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses lined the walls, snoring softly in their frames, their chests rising and falling.
Behind the door, a magnificent bird the size of a swan, with shimmering gold and red feathers, swayed its long tail on a perch, blinking at them kindly.
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