Once inside the chamber, Stephen Flint hears his client nervously breathing and placed a hand on the sleeve of his client to calm him down. Rubeus Hagrid takes a deep breath and tries to at least breathe normally. It semi-worked as they stood in front of the twelve seated members of the Hogwarts Board. Among them seated at the very last is the youngest and newest board member, Lucius Malfoy.
The chairman of the board is seated in the middle, a bald elderly wizard with only wisps of hair left in a white crown around his head. Decimus Magellan glances down at the paper before him and in a grating voice says, "It is February 19th of 1974. The Hogwarts governing board members have all been summoned to hear the expulsion appeal of one, Rubeus Hagrid having been expulsed back in 1943 for owning a dangerous magical creature, which caused the death of a muggleborn student named, Myrtle Elizabeth Warren."
Magellan narrows his devious-looking eyes and says, "However, that being said, there are no grounds for appeal regarding your client, Mr. Flint. It is an open and shut case."
"May I speak chairman?" Stephen Flint fearlessly said with steely blue-gray eyes.
"Very well, you may, council," Magellan slowly said with a look of mistrust in his gaze.
Stephen says, "I am certain that each of you has a copy of the evidence I have submitted in front of you, Board Members. If I may have trouble, you all to turn to page five and view the three medical reports in order that all state what exactly what Myrtle Elizabeth Warren died of."
Most of the Board Members turn the pages with the exception of the Chairman and Lucius Malfoy. Magellan does not even pretend to do so and impatiently says, "Your point, council?"
"My point is that Myrtle Elizabeth Warren died of an instant inexplicable magical death via an unknown magical creature," Stephen explained. "However, the creature which my client was taking care of at that time could not have caused such a death, but rather a poisonous one. Thereby proving that my client though having made some rather poor decisions at the time, did not in fact cause nor lead to the death of a fellow student in his same grade year."
"That proves nothing," Magellan snapped. "They are merely conjectures without any proof."
"But I have a witness," Stephen fearlessly replied. "I call upon the ghost of Myrtle Elizabeth Warren to take the stand."
Instantly sensing an opportunity, Magellan's rival, an oriental wizard with almond-shaped eyes, dark hair, and thin lips confidently interjects, "I for one would hear the council's witness unless some of us would prefer that the truth remains hidden."
Before Magellan can voice his negation of the claim, a wiry-haired wizard with a cleft chin says, "I for one agree with board member, Maxwell Zheng. It will do the board no harm in further hearing the witness."
Zheng nods his thanks at Leif Amundsen. Despite being rivals at times, both wizards got along exceedingly well. Then again, it might be because of the explorer's blood that was found within them both. For both their ancestors had been famous wizarding explorers in their forefather's native lands of China and Norway.
Magellan opens his mouth to finally, but firmly say, NO, but his fellow board members are all staring at him. He knew as well as any that ghosts were allowed to testify, and their testimony be counted as viable evidence in court. He could not deny the request without severe consequences. And that his enemies would not allow it either.
"Very well," Magellan unhappily said. "I, the chairman will allow the ghost to enter, but let the board note, my unwillingness at the participation and appearance of this witness given the ghostly nature of the deceased."
The side doors open to reveal the ghostly figure of a squat girl with pimples and thick glasses. Stephen Flint smiles warmly at the figure of the ghostly teen. "Thank you so much for coming, Miss Warren, we appreciate your time."
Myrtle Warren, commonly known as Moaning Myrtle giggled and twirled her fingers in her hair. "I've never been called, Miss Warren before," Myrtle squeaked shyly.
Having been a persuasive teen once, Stephen smoothly says to the ghost, "Miss Warren can you tell us about the day, you died?"
Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question and batted her eyes at Flint. If only her heart could beat again, she would be head over heels in love!
"Ooooh, it was just dreadful," Myrtle said with relish. "I died on the second floor's girl's lavatory. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Oliver Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was a boy speaking. So, I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet. And then -," Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining, "I died."
"Thank you, Miss Warren," Stephen said. "I'm sure that this must be difficult for you to speak of."
"Not at all," Myrtle said passionately as she made big, gooey eyes at Stephen Flint. Why had she never noticed the Slytherin before when he was a student? Such a wasted opportunity, what an utter tragedy!
"May I ask you a couple more questions, if you don't mind my asking?" Stephen asked.
"Not at all," Myrtle eagerly replied.
"Did you see anything that you can recall, when you opened the door? Such as a large figure or any detail really?" Stephen further coaxed out of the teenage ghost.
"I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up and then I was floating away," Myrtle dreamily said.
"A few more questions, Miss Warren," Stephen smoothly said. "We are almost done. Can you please look at my client standing behind me?"
Myrtle's eyes grow wide as she takes the great, big hunk of a man that she hadn't noticed before which she now regretted as he was such a tasty dish to look at. Wait, was that Rubeus Hagrid?!
"Miss Warren, the man standing at my side is Rubeus Hagrid, do you remember that him from being in your same year?" Stephen carefully asked.
"Yes," Myrtle said in disbelief. "But he was all big, and gangly back then. Nothing like this," as her eyes all but hungrily leered at Hagrid.
Hagrid flushed a bit at the ghost's praises, he was still not used to his newfound popularity. He knew that the younger girls of Hogwarts found him attractive, but he only had eyes for his Olympe. Still, it was nice to be noticed at times.
"Was my client in any form or manner, mean or cruel to you?" Stephen pointedly asked.
"No," Myrtle shook her head. "He was rather awkward but nice. He'd hand me a hanky, whenever he found me crying, and would at least try to say something kind even if it was a rather strange compliment coming from him like how my teeth were white which meant I was healthy."
"Miss Warren, if you can recall my client's voice at the time, can you say that he it was the same male voice in the girl's bathroom that tragic day?" Stephen deliberately asked.
Myrtle slowly shook her head. "Hagrid had a low, but rather loud voice. That boy had a smooth, almost silky voice. They were nothing alike."
"Thank you, Miss Warren," Stephen gratefully said. "That will be all Miss Warren, you may go now."
"Anytime," Myrle flirted back, before waving goodbye and disappearing through the side door.
Stephen was not one to be disturbed by the fact that a teenage ghost was attempting to flirt with him, and rather badly at that. Without even skipping a step, he says, "I would like to submit into evidence that according to the very deceased's testimony that said would be murderer although in fact male, spoke another language. My client does not speak any other known language except our very own English mother tongue. And the fact that my client's voice even at that age did not match the voice of the individual responsible for Miss Warren's death.
Secondly, the creature which my client kept at that time was not a creature that possessed a pair of yellow eyes. As such, my client could not be responsible for Miss Warren. And therefore, proves that my client is not the culprit, and was punished correctly for a crime that he did not commit!"
Magellan narrowed his eyes and rasped, "A very moving speech, council. However, the evidence is circumstantial at best. And even if that is the case, who is the culprit behind Miss Warren's death? A culprit must be found guilty, you should know better than anyone council."
A rustle of movement is heard as if in agreement and disagreement. Despite the well-made argument by the council, it would not be enough to change the tide. And even the best-meaning intentions can still fail.