Every time they came here, Myrtle would watch them, and not even once, not even she overheard them talk about the chamber of secrets did she mention or speak anything about it? Then again Thomas couldn't exactly blame her for not wanting to remember her death.
And while it was far from easy to sneak into the girl's bathroom, Thomas would have to do it later today, even if that meant breaking even more rules. However bad news never came alone.
As he stood alone in potion class courtesy of all of the rumors that appeared last night, Snape gave them another bad news, one that for many might be their doom.
"Exams? We're still getting exams?" One of the Hufflepuffs shouted earning himself a glare from the potion master.
Snape glared at the Hufflepuff student who had dared to question his authority. "Yes, exams. Did you think that the school would remain open for your amusement? Did you think that the threat of a monster roaming the corridors would excuse you from learning the essential skills of making something of your life?" He paused and looked around the room, daring anyone to challenge him. "Well, think again. You are here to study, and study you will. You will take your exams as scheduled, and you will pass them, or you will face the consequences. And don't think that I will go easy on you. I expect nothing less than perfection from my students. Now, get back to work, and don't let me hear another word from any of you."
The shocked expression on most students almost, almost made Thomas smile. Despite everything that had happened, Snape was probably the best person to calm down the students in his way.
Three days, that's how long it took for McGonagall, the acting headmaster, to raise the spirits of everyone in the castle. And so, three days before Thomas's first exam of the year, Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast.
"I have good news," she said, and instead of falling silent, the Great Hall erupted.
"Dumbledore's coming back!" several people yelled joyfully.
"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.
"Quidditch matches are back on!" roared Wood excitedly.
"We can go outside of the castle?" One Slytherin shouted.
When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall continued her speech. "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with us catching the culprit once and for all."
There was an explosion of cheering. Thomas looked over at the Slytherin table and wasn't at all surprised to see that Draco Malfoy hadn't joined in for various reasons.
Strangely enough, the first thing Thomas thought of when he heard McGonagall's speech was if it was worth going to talk with Myrtle, but he quickly shook that thought. Of course, it was worth it, after all when his friends were healed, they would only tell him what he already knew about the creature that had attacked them. Once again it came to how to approach Myrtle about her death.
Sadly for everyone in the school, just as the next class finished and Thomas was about to head back to his now empty room, he heard one of the Gryffindor students talking about something that made him for the first in a while worry for someone else other than his friends and family.
"It's true, I saw it with my own eyes. A first year was taken away by the monster. He was lying on the floor, petrified, with a message written on the wall in blood. It said, 'Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.' It was horrible."
Hearing that, Thomas quickly approached the two first-year Gryffindors and asked them if they knew the victim's name. "Excuse me, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. Do you know who the first year was? The one who was attacked by the monster?"
"Yeah, I do. It was Ginny Weasley."
That was all he needed to hear from her before leaving the two girls alone as he rushed towards the second-floor bathroom. But just as he passed one of the offices, a hand grabbed him shocking Thomas slightly before he quickly reached for his dagger only to hear a voice he'd rather not hear ever again.
"My dear student, where are you rushing like that?" Gilderoy Lockhart spoke with an annoying smile on his face, while still holding onto Thomas's robe.
"Does it matter professor?"
Lockhart's smile faded when he saw Thomas's expression. He sensed that the boy was hiding something, and he was determined to find out what it was. He was still mad that none of his colleagues had invited him yesterday when the boy appeared at the school entrance after not being found anywhere in the castle. He had a feeling that Thomas was involved in some mysterious and dangerous adventure, and he wanted to be part of it.
"Of course it matters, my boy. You are one of my students, and I care about your well-being. You can't just run around the school without telling me where you are going. Especially not when there is a monster on the loose. You could be in grave danger." Lockhart spoke gently, but the way he held onto Thomas's shoulder made him think otherwise.
"Yet Professor, Ginny Weasley was the one attacked and not me. Mayhaps the monster hates the Grinfindors more than it hates the Ravenclaws?"
"I don't dare to comment on that my dear boy. But please do play my game and satisfy my curiosity. Where were you rushing to?"
"Would you believe me if I told you that I was going to the bathroom?"
Thomas's response confused Lockhart for a few seconds making him wonder why the boy would need to go to the bathroom so urgently, and why he would choose to go to the second-floor bathroom, which was out of the way and rarely used by anyone. Then, he remembered something that made him suspicious. Wasn't that close to the place where the first victim had been found. The one that was haunted by Moaning Myrtle, the ghost who had died in mysterious circumstances fifty years ago, the same year that the chamber of secrets had been first opened?
Seeing the sudden change in Lockhart, Thomas got even more worried. "Professor? Are you feeling all right?"
"Er, well, yes, of course, of course. I'm fine my dear student." Lockhart said, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. "My stomach, Thomas… it's an urgent call … unavoidable … got to go …"
"But sir, what about Miss Weasley?"
"Well, as to that … most unfortunate …" Lockhart muttered, avoiding the boy's eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I do, truly, but right … now I have to GO!"
Before the man could force himself out of the room, Thomas grabbed his robe with a strength that surprised the man before giving him a not-so-friendly smile as he spoke. "But Sir! Aren't you the D.A.D.A. professor? Shouldn't you be searching for Miss Weasley?"
"Well, I must say, when I took the job …" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "Nothing in the job description … didn't expect to have to face a monster like this. Not without all of the professors and Dumbledore, of course."
"So, the famous Gilderoy Lockhart, the hero of the smallfolk, dragon slayer, troll slayer, and who knows how many titles, is going to run away like a coward?"
"Books can be misleading, my dear boy. Haven't you learned that by now?"
"Certainly sir, especially when those books are written by you, am I right, sir?"
"Thomas oh Thomas, I pity the people that would have been your enemies," Lockhart said, straightening up before he put a surprisingly serious expression on his annoying face. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairy chin. I mean, come on. Oh, don't get me started on that flowery knight who was forced to bed a bloated troll woman to save a village or…"
"And certainly, you wouldn't have stolen those stories, killed the people who did it, and took it upon yourself to share their stories putting your name in front of them?"
Lockhart gave him a forced smile before he continued with his explanation. "You might not think about this, my dear boy. But there was hard work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing, I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Thomas. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."
Then he slammed shut a trunk before nodding to himself. Now that he took a closer look at the room he was dragged inside, Thomas saw that almost all of the things in it were no longer on display, like the portraits, books, etc. Almost as if Lockhart is planning to run away from Hogwarts.
"Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."
He pulled out his wand and turned towards Thomas.
"Awfully sorry, my dear, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book and that would do me no good."
Just as Lockhart was about to attack, Thomas reached for his dagger and threw it at Lockhart's wand hand with all his strength. The dagger flew through the air and hit its target making Lockhart let out a scream almost like a pig at the slaughter as he dropped his wand. "You little brat! How dare you! Do you know who I am? Do you know what you've done? You've ruined everything! Everything!" He tried to reach for his wand with his other hand, but before he could grab it, he was blasted by another spell.
"Expelliarmus!"
Not wanting to wait anymore and see what this madman could do to him, Thomas ran away from the office and straight towards the second-floor bathroom.
As soon as he reached the bathroom, Thomas found Moaning Myrtle sitting on the tank of the end toilet.
"Oh, it's you," she gave him a sad smile. "What do you want this time? Have you come to laugh at me? Or maybe you want to finally banish me?"
"Neither of them Myrtle. In fact, I came here seeking your help."
For the first since he met her, Myrtle looked surprised. After all, in all of her ghostly life, this was the first time someone had come to her asking for her help, especially a cute and good-looking boy like Thomas.
Myrtle blinked her eyes and tilted her head. "You want my help? Really? Why? What can I do for you?"
She sounded curious and hopeful, making Thomas feel bad for all the times he was angry at her.
"Is this some kind of trick? Are you trying to make fun of me? Or are you just pitying me?" She sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek. She said, "You know, you don't have to pretend to be nice to me. I know I'm a nuisance. I know I'm a bore. I know I'm a ghost. Nobody likes me. Nobody cares about me. Nobody wants to talk to me. Except you, apparently. But why? Why do you want to talk to me? Why do you want my help? Is this some kind of trick? Are you trying to make fun of me? Or are you just pitying me? You know, you don't have to pretend to be nice to me. I know I'm a nuisance. I know I'm a bore. I know I'm a ghost. Nobody likes me. Nobody cares about me. Nobody wants to talk to me. Except you, apparently. But why? Why do you want my help?"
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