I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 313 Bloodshed and Pipes

"What did you say? Krum almost died?" Harry saw Myrtle crawling out of the cubicle, her upper body outside and her lower body still inside, her hands supporting her cheeks.

She used the wooden door of the cubicle as a window.

"That handsome guy from Hufflepuff also had his share of troubles, but his magical plants were quite interesting; they could confuse the monsters."

"Oh, right." Suddenly, Myrtle looked at him with a sweet smile and said, "Owen, why don't you ever go to the prefectural bathhouse to take a bath?"

As she spoke, she winked at him from behind her thick glasses.

"They've all been there: Cedric, the stern Weasley, the wooden captain of Gryffindor, Durmstrang's macho man, and Beauxbatons' sweetheart."

"Of course—and that famous young lady from Gryffindor too."

A sly glint suddenly flashed behind Myrtle's large glasses. Then, she touched her forehead with her hand and slipped out of the cubicle. "Oh! To be honest, I think she's too thin, skin and bones, with hardly any flesh on her body, and her breasts are small too. Beauxbatons' sweetheart is much prettier and has a better figure."

But I still like Cedric Diggory, he's really handsome, isn't he?

"Pfft—" Owen and Harry were caught in the clam.

The ferocity is also small.

Very small

Small.

Good heavens—if Miss Granger (Hermione) heard this, I wonder what kind of expression she would have?

That's definitely a look that looks like it wants to eat someone alive!

Owen and Harry had no doubt that Miss Granger (Hermione) would beat the person who said those words to a pulp.

It's a pity she's not here.

Wait! Irving narrowed his eyes, a shrewd glint in them.

She definitely waited until Hermione went into the pipe before coming out!

You knew that saying that would get you beaten up by Miss Granger's Patronus, didn't you?

Tsk tsk—what's there to be cowardly about—go head-to-head!

Just tell the truth!

Although Irving didn't pay much attention to that—after all, he's not a pervert.

But perhaps if Hermione overheard what Myrtle said, she might become more embarrassed and angry and pay more attention to her body?

Eat more rice?

That's a good way to motivate people!

"Actually—" As she spoke, Moaning Myrtle's eyes suddenly lit up. She showed a girlish shyness, and then, with a cunning and seductive gesture, she floated towards Harry and Owen.

"I noticed you, Owen, the first time you came here," Myrtle said mysteriously, "though I never used to come out and talk to anyone."

Harry and Owen both unconsciously took a step back.

Faced with this female hooligan—oh, no, this lecherous woman!

What a lecherous woman in her sixties!

The woman Voldemort killed was already over sixty years old.

Those two innocent kids... had no way to defend themselves. If it weren't for the sewer pipe entrance right behind them, they could have been pushed into a corner.

And—the people she just mentioned.

People who have taken a bath in the prefectural officer's washroom.

Imagine you're taking a shower, and somewhere out there someone—a ghost—is spying on you, leering at you and making comments about your body.

That's absolutely terrifying!

Hiss—In an instant, both Harry and Owen had the same feeling: what should they do if their clothes were too thin?

The two exchanged a glance, both seeing a clear message in each other's eyes: they would never set foot in the prefectural washroom in their entire lives.

"You're so beautiful." The lustful female ghost had already floated in front of them.

She leered at Owen with a burning gaze, "Silver and black hair, and eyes, nose, mouth." As she spoke, she suddenly stretched her neck out, staring intently at his collar, wanting to probe deeper.

"Get out of here!" Owen, feeling a chill, immediately hid behind Harry. "I'll beat you up if you don't!"

"Hehehe," Mommy Kristen smiled, pleased with herself. She hadn't been this happy in a long time.

Moreover, there's no one in the castle who could push Owen to this extent.

She was the first one.

"Oh, right, I actually saw that witch, Iphamoni, in the prefect's washroom!"

"Koyatl?" Owen poked his head out from behind Harry's shoulder. "You're really desperate! As a wizard at Hogwarts, I tell you you should uphold certain principles!"

"Oh!" she cried out in a girlish scream. "You mean, I can only watch the young wizards at Hogwarts?"

She looked up, her lips moving slightly, an excited expression on her face, her eyes constantly glancing at Owen.

"Then what are you?"

"No, I don't want to take a bath either. Please continue. Sorry to bother you!" Owen stuck his head back halfway, leaving only his eyes visible.

"Hmph—how naughty," she said. "But she certainly has a beautiful face."

"Isn't that right?"

Myrtle suddenly stopped laughing, and her expression turned strange. "But—"

Her dramatic emotional shift puzzled Owen. After all, if a female ghost suddenly changes her expression in front of you, the only possible next second is that she's about to reveal her true colors and eat people.

The ghosts of Hogwarts wouldn't act that way, but the novels and films over the years have made Owen and Harry take another step back.

Kyrie Irving: I already feel like I'm suspended in mid-air, damn it!

"You'd never guess what she was doing in the bathtub."

"What are you doing? Shaving your legs?" Harry suddenly blurted out, which almost made Owen burst out laughing and fall into the drainpipe.

"Harry," Owen said, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders, "beautiful girls don't have leg hair."

"Is that armpit hair?"

"Damn it—you're at odds with Mao Mao, aren't you!" Owen chuckled, imagining how ridiculous it would be if a woman like Koyatl were hiding in the prefectural restroom, hanging armpit hair.

"No—" Myrtle shouted angrily.

Then he stared at the two of them with wide eyes.

"Slitting my wrists—" she said, "more than once, the blood stained the pool red."

"Huh?" In an instant, the expressions on the faces of the two people who heard the voice froze. Their brows were filled with doubt and disbelief.

"I saw it with my own eyes," Myrtle said solemnly. "But she didn't die. It's so strange. Where did she get so much blood? And her wounds healed so quickly. In the blink of an eye, they were smooth and there was no trace of her wounds."

Harry, ever outspoken, blurted out, "She committed suicide?"

"Nonsense, if it's not suicide, why would you bleed yourself? For your health?" Myrtle mocked Harry. "I really don't understand you young wizards these days."

She said in a condescending tone, "None of them value their own lives. Only a fool would participate in that so-called championship."

Myrtle sat at the entrance of the secret chamber, craning her neck to look down. Before her was pitch black, as if there were a silent abyss waiting to devour her flesh and soul.

"Some things are worth more than life." Owen stepped out from behind Harry, frowning as he pondered.

"What could be more valuable than life?" She suddenly choked up. "My biggest regret is that when Oliver Humbell was mocking me, I didn't punch him in the jaw, but instead hid here."

Look at me now, I have to be on guard all the time, because someone might flush the toilet and take me with them.

She became melancholy, as if she had lost interest in everything around her, and then she quickly slipped back into the toilet.

Vanished without a trace.

Neither Owen nor Harry had a chance to say anything to comfort them.

However—they couldn't say anything.

Myrtle Warren, she suddenly locked eyes with the basilisk, and then died.

Such a way of dying is certainly regrettable. It would be fine if it were done with all one's might, or if it were during a battle, but unfortunately—I hadn't done anything yet, and my life hadn't even begun to take off before it came to an abrupt end.

Aside from deep regret, Irving couldn't imagine what else might be in Myrtle's mind, perhaps even anger?

Life is counting down, which makes people nostalgic, yet also causes them pain.

When it all comes to an end, all that remains besides regret is a deep sense of remorse.

Owen and Harry exchanged a glance and then fell silent.

The mystery surrounding Koyater has not diminished at all; on the contrary, it has grown even thicker.

------

On the other side, below the entrance to the secret room.

As darkness completely enveloped her, Hermione felt as if she were rushing rapidly down a pitch-black abyss.

She didn't know how long she had been falling. Sometimes, a fleeting glimpse of light would shine on her face, and with that light, she could see many tubes branching out in all directions, but none of them were as thick as this one.

The pipe twisted and turned, winding and steeply descending. Hermione knew she had slid very, very deep beneath the school, even deeper than the underground classrooms.

Besides the whooshing sound of the wind, all she could hear was the sound of her clothes rubbing against the pipe walls.

Just as her mood grew heavier and heavier with the pipes, she suddenly landed on the ground.

The water pipe became horizontal, and she emerged from the pipe opening. Then, she leaped up and rolled on the ground with agility, dissipating the force of the downward rush.

"The fireflies are twinkling."

Hermione raised her wand, and a pale white light immediately shone on the ground.

She opened her eyes wide.

He carefully examined his surroundings.

First and foremost, it's the ground beneath your feet.

It was a stone-paved tunnel, dry and smooth, as if it had been repaired by someone.

It can accommodate several people side by side.

There was no strange smell or danger in the surroundings as I had imagined.

But Hermione would never let her guard down. She focused intently and then cast a 'Reveal' spell into the darkness ahead.

A golden light flashed by, like the sun shining into the dark underground world for a fleeting moment.

"No?"

Hermione was still not entirely at ease.

Irving deliberately adjusted the difficulty of the competition in his first match, so there's no guarantee he won't do it again this time.

And

The little witch looked ahead.

It's so dark!

Seriously, why would they choose a place like this for the competition?

It's definitely Kyrie Irving!

Hermione gritted her teeth and realized with certainty that it was definitely him who suggested putting the competition venue here!

For some reason, a spark ignited in the little witch's heart.

This anger made her temporarily forget her fear of the dark.

She took a step forward, keeping close to the wall, and began to carefully walk towards the unseen depths of the pipe.

About ten minutes later.

The surrounding darkness remained thick.

The pipe seemed to be under an infinitely extending spell; no matter how you walked, you could never reach the end.

Hermione could only sense that she seemed to be going downhill.

"This—it's probably a few miles from the school now," Hermione said, her voice echoing through the tunnel.

At this point, her location was probably deeper than the deepest part of the Black Lake.

If this distance were stretched into a straight line, it would be enough for her to walk from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade.

But even now, she still can't see the end.

"ah--"

In the darkness, the girl's scream carried far, especially inside the pipes, where she was even startled by her own voice echoing.

"So—was I mistaken?" The bleak white light burned a hole through the darkness.

The light shone on the wall, and the darkness was covered with a layer of frost.

On that frost, a protrusion on the rock face resembled a human face.

He seemed to be trying to crawl out of the wall, but only managed to peek out his face.

"Am I just imagining things?" Upon closer inspection, Hermione discovered that the face was actually just a stain on the rock wall. Due to the refraction of light, it looked like a face from a distance.

Hermione blinked and continued walking forward.

She was more focused than before, forcing herself not to think about those terrible things, because the fireflies cast her shadow on the wall, and with each step she took, it looked like a monster was moving.

What Hermione didn't see was the light slowly beginning to move across the rock face.

The face suddenly became clear. In the instant the light completely disappeared, it stiffly turned its head to look at Hermione, who had already gone far away.

Then it suddenly shrank into the wall, like a pebble sinking into water.

Miss Granger, however, was still proceeding cautiously.

Every now and then, he would throw out a "Reveal Your True Form" spell.

"Crack!" A crisp sound of bone breaking rang out.

She lowered her head, looking dazed.

It turned out that the smooth ground beneath her feet had disappeared.

Instead, there was a rough, sticky road littered with animal bones.

Hermione tried desperately to control herself, trying to encourage herself, but her mind kept replaying those terrifying monsters and demons.

She remembered the videotapes she had watched at home.

The Shining, Alien, It, and so on.

It seems that many scenes are quite similar to the tunnel in front of us.

Thinking about it, Hermione couldn't help but shiver. Then, she immediately thought it was absurd. She was a wizard, so why would she be afraid of those fake monsters from movie plots?

After taking a couple of steps, her long robe suddenly seemed to be pulled by something.

She immediately understood why: those monsters really did exist in the magical world.

"Crushed to pieces!"

Without thinking twice, Hermione turned around and unleashed a grey spell.

But there was nothing behind him; the spell, glowing, flew into the darkness silently.

But Hermione felt something strange about the robe, which suddenly appeared at her ankle.

She looked down in astonishment and saw a pair of mud-covered, withered hands that looked like skin and bones grabbing her feet.

"ah--"

Before Hermione could react, she was instantly pulled down by those hands.

They were submerged in that pile of shattered bones.

"Flames are raging!"

"Flames are raging!"

"Flames are raging!"

Inside a pipe made of stacked bricks, Hermione suddenly fell from the upper wall.

In mid-air, she waved her wand and continuously cast fire spells around her.

The orange flames devoured the surrounding darkness.

It wasn't until Hermione, who had fallen to the ground, quickly got up that she realized there was nothing around her.

There were burn marks on the wall.

A foul stench filled the air.

The ground was covered with brown mist.

There were also bits of flesh, of unknown origin, wriggling at my feet.

Hermione staggered back a step, even though she didn't want to breathe in the stench at all, but the involuntary, violent beating of her heart made her breathing even more labored.

She immediately took off running towards the distant pipe.

The only difference here is that it is no longer pitch black; instead, every now and then, a lamp hangs on the wall to illuminate a small space.

But that's not exactly a good thing.

Because she still couldn't see ahead, a thick fog obscured Hermione's vision. Compared to the darkness, the light might have given her a little more courage.

Miss Granger's boots were now covered in grime, and brown puddles splashed as she stepped on them, leaving only the sound of her footsteps and the image of her running away.

She didn't know how long she had been running, but the fog in the distance suddenly lifted, revealing a hole. Hermione stopped immediately, but the moment she burst out of the pipe, a huge, wet, sticky thing shot out from her left and wrapped around her waist.

"What?"

Hermione turned her head in surprise, and then saw a frog about half the size of a small car squatting in the corner of the wall where the hole and the pipe connected.

What kind of frog was it? It had a greasy green skin, huge eyes, and fingers and toes that were joined together. Of course, if you could ignore the strange tumors and sores on its body, it was probably considered normal in the magical world.

"Torn apart!"

Hermione instantly unleashed the spell, severing the frog's tongue. Then, she frantically tossed the half of the tongue, which was wrapped around her waist, to the ground.

"How disgusting!"

Then, she used a shattering curse to kill the poor frog.

Just as she was about to catch her breath, a strange phenomenon appeared above her head.

Hermione looked up and saw that the wall at the pipe's exit was covered with countless hands the size of silver plates.

palm?

Hermione didn't have time to think. She raised the spell, which was the "Quickly Bind" spell.

A flash of gray light appeared in the spell, and the next second, all the hands on the walls were suspended in mid-air.

Only then did Hermione see clearly that it had blue skin, five to a dozen hands, and green smoke rising from its fingertips.

That really was a hand-shaped monster.

The incision on the arm was clearly visible, wriggling, and you could see the red flesh inside through the wound.

I have exams at the end of the month, so I'm putting together a draft. I'll start with 5,000 words and reply next month.

(End of this chapter)