111: Chapter 111 Hermione's Deduction

"Harry, pass the book a bit closer, my claws make it awkward to turn pages."

In the Hospital Wing, Hermione pulled the quilt up to her chin, her cat ears pressed between her messy hair, and her tail, which had poked out from the corner of the quilt, was irritably stuffed back in.

Harry stood by the bed holding a stack of books, while Ron hid behind the curtain, still muttering, "Thank goodness Madam Pomfrey didn't make us explain why she's growing fur."

Hermione glared at the curtain.

"Ron, if you still want me to help you with your History of Magic essay, stop mentioning the fur."

She spread out an old school history book, pressing her fingertip on the records from fifty years ago. "This is written too vaguely. A student died, the school almost closed, and in the end, Hagrid was expelled, but the monster was never publicly identified."

Harry lowered his voice. "You suspect Hagrid was framed?"

"I've suspected it from the start."

Hermione held her quill between her teeth, her cat pupils constricting slightly. "If the spider Hagrid raised had really killed someone, why would Dumbledore still let him stay at school? And why would the Board of Governors allow a murder suspect to remain on the Castle grounds? The logic doesn't hold up."

Ron poked his head out. "Maybe Dumbledore is soft-hearted."

Hermione turned the page.

"Soft-heartedness can't save a Board of Governors vote. The real questions are: who was the victim, where did they die, and what did they see before they died? Harry, go find Myrtle for me."

Harry was stunned. "Moaning Myrtle? She'll splash water all over us."

"Then let Ron go in first." Hermione looked toward the curtain. "He's been the most useful with his mouth lately anyway."

Ron immediately shrank back. "I suddenly remembered Snape still owes us a trial."

At the same time, by a narrow window in the second-floor corridor, Nott closed a thin booklet and returned to the Dungeon along the stairs. He didn't stop once, and when he passed Adrian Pucey and a few seniors, he didn't even bother to greet them.

Adrian Pucey wanted to call out to him, but Flint pulled him back, whispering, "Don't provoke Nott; he's delivered papers to Snape twice recently."

In the Slytherin Common Room, Allen leaned back in an armchair against the wall, with "Hogwarts: A History" on his lap. The pages were stopped at the chapter on the Castle's plumbing from the early days of the school, and a silver spoon lay pressed under the spine, its polished surface reflecting the color of the Black Lake.

Nott sat opposite him and pushed the thin booklet over.

"Granger hasn't been idle while hospitalized. Potter brought her 'Hogwarts: A History', 'Excerpts of Internal Disciplinary Records', and a list of ghosts. She's focusing on fifty years ago, asking about the death location, and even mentioned Myrtle."

Draco looked up from the fireplace. "Cat ears is still investigating? She's really sick."

Zabini held his teacup, his gaze falling on Draco. "She's steadier when investigating than you are when pretending to be the Heir of Slytherin."

Draco slammed his quill onto the table. "I already made up for that."

Allen turned a page. "She's getting close to the entrance."

Pansy put down her needlework. "Should we stop her? If she really runs to the Girls Lavatory, the Basilisk might be nearby."

"Stop her, and she'll investigate the person who stopped her."

Allen flipped Nott's booklet to the last page, where the times of Hermione's checkouts were recorded in fine print. "Let her investigate. The closer she gets to the truth, the more she will drag Harry out of suspicion of being the Heir of Slytherin."

Draco walked over, his voice lowered. "You're using Granger as a pathfinder."

Allen raised his eyes. "Don't you want Harry to stop taking the blame?"

Draco was stumped, then irritably tugged at his cuffs. "I just don't want anyone else to fall. Finch-Fletchley and the ghost are already enough."

Nott's pen tip paused. Zabini glanced at Draco and placed his teacup back on the table. Pansy didn't respond either. Draco realized what he'd said, his face tightening, and he stiffly added, "People falling brings the Professors, Professors bring Father, and Father brings trouble."

Allen returned the booklet to Nott. "That reason is sufficient."

The fire in the fireplace dimmed, and the sound of lake water hitting the glass echoed outside the Common Room.

Allen's fingers touched the blackthorn wand inside his sleeve, his consciousness sinking into the Portable Space. Beside the ebony box, the cracked pocket watch was spitting out thin blue light toward the north, forming a circle in the void, with the tip of its tail crossing the parchment marked "Hermione" and pointing to the second floor.

The golden patterns on the north side of the space were half an inch brighter than they had been in the morning. That light passed through the mist like a straightened line, its end piercing toward the upper levels of the Castle.

Peter was curled up in the cage, his face pressed against the space wall, his mouth sealed by a silence charm, but his eyes followed the blue light.

Allen spoke within the space. "North, second floor, Girls Lavatory, Myrtle."

The void spat out a message, and the silver slit pupils stared in the same direction. The pocket watch made a soft sound, the blue light thinning in the cracks of the ebony box, then slowly expanding again.

Allen tapped three knuts onto the ground of the space with his wand; the knuts lined up along the golden pattern on the north side in a zigzag, the light suppressed for a moment but still seeping outward.

"The Castle is urging," Allen said in a low voice. "The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets hasn't fully opened, but the barrier has already started to move."

In the cage, Peter gestured with both hands, pointing frantically at his own mouth. Allen released him for three breaths.

Peter shouted, almost pressed against the wall of the space:

"Don't get too close! There's its scent in the pipes. The places the Basilisk patrols leave blind spots; Wizards can be misled by their own senses too. Tom will make people think it's still below, but it's actually already walking along the wall right beside your feet!"

Allen resealed the silence. "Useful."

Peter bumped against the cage, made no sound, and could only shiver while gripping the bars. The void swam to the front of the cage, the tip of its tail tapped the space wall, and Peter immediately retreated to the corner.

Outside, Draco was staring at Allen. "Did you fall asleep again?"

Allen opened his eyes. "Nott, keep watching Hermione. Don't get close to her, don't help her find books. If she asks about Myrtle, record the time."

Nott wrote down the instruction. "What if Granger wanders at night?"

"Let the portraits find her first." Allen put away the silver spoon. "The Professors need to see Gryffindor moving, not see Slytherin waiting."

Zabini placed a thin sealed letter on the table.

"My mother replied. The Board of Governors is starting to prepare a second inquiry. Lucius proposed asking Dumbledore if he concealed information from fifty years ago. The wording is very clever—the knife is hidden within safety responsibilities."

Draco's shoulders stiffened. "He's really going to make a move."

Allen picked up the letter, scanned it, closed his fingertips, and folded the letter back. "Lucius wants the Principal to leave, Tom wants the Principal to leave, and the Professors want the students not to die. The goals of all three parties overlap in the short term, and the danger will accelerate."

Pansy asked: "What about us?"

"We only ensure we aren't dragged into it." Allen looked toward the second floor. "And protect the person who can open the door for us."

At night, Harry returned to the Gryffindor Common Room holding the books, with Ron following behind, clutching a list of ghosts in his arms. Hermione was lying in the Hospital Wing, and taking advantage of the gap when Madam Pomfrey left to prepare medicine, she slipped a small note into the seam of a book. There were only a few lines on the paper.

Fifty years ago, dead student, Girls Lavatory, Myrtle.

Basilisk, indirect sight, pipes.

Harry can hear it.

She finished writing the last line, and her tail slapped the bed board irritably. The low-grade girl in the next bed turned over in fright, and Hermione immediately tucked the paper back into the book and closed her eyes to pretend to sleep.

Outside the window of the Hospital Wing, there was a soft sliding sound of water inside the wall. The sound came from the direction of the second floor and fell toward a deeper place. Hermione's cat ears immediately stood up; she opened her eyes and stared at the pipes below the ceiling.

"What Harry heard might really be in the wall."

In the second-floor lavatory, Myrtle was sobbing on the water tank, and a circle of damp marks seeped from the dilapidated sink nearby. Below the water surface, deep in the dark pipes, something huge was slowly moving, its scales scraping against the stone wall, leaving behind low-frequency vibrations.

In the Dungeon, the silver spoon beside Allen's hand suddenly trembled. The golden pattern on the north side of the Portable Space lit up, and the blue light of the cracked pocket watch pointed directly upward. The void raised its head, and the tip of its tail pressed down on the three words "Myrtle".

Allen closed the book. "She heard it."

Draco sat up from the bed. "Who?"

"Hermione."

"And then?"

Allen put the blackthorn wand into his sleeve and closed his eyes. "Then, she will take the Girls Lavatory as the answer. Tom will take her as a threat."