Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 281: Chapter 160: That Girl Was Called Moaning Myrtle

In the first week of June, when the sun was at its brightest, the final exams arrived as scheduled.

Magic History, Magic Spell, Transfiguration, Magic Potion, Herbs, Astronomy...

One exam after another, the campus was filled with a tense yet joyful atmosphere. Most students were in good spirits as they believed they could achieve excellent results.

During this year’s ”game,” students received good training, and according to the professors, they were much improved compared to the previous year.

But some had sour expressions—students focused more on practice than theory, and Astronomy and Magic History, entirely reliant on rote learning, remained the hardest subjects.

”I really wish they would cancel the Magic History class,”

Michael complained, ”What’s the point of knowing which year the cauldron was invented? I just need to know which one works best!”

”Which brand of cauldron is the best?” Neville quickly asked, ”I, I want to buy one too...”

Despite the tutoring from Vid and others, Neville’s performance in Magic Potion Class was still poor. Everyone thought it was because Neville was too nervous.

However, you couldn’t blame Neville for his lack of composure; after all, Professor Snape often targeted him with harsh words.

People were already surprised that Neville hadn’t quit, so one really couldn’t expect more.

When he wasn’t in front of Professor Snape, he was actually able to gradually brew a passable Magic Potion.

But he was still far from excellence.

In the classic sense of ”poor students have plenty of stationery,” Neville seemed to hope that external factors could help improve his Magic Potion grades, so he was keen to buy better cauldrons.

But Michael just shrugged and said, ”Neville, of course, the more expensive ones work better!”

Neville: ”...”

He rolled his eyes and turned his head to ask, ”Where did Vid go?”

”He had to find Professor Dumbledore for something, so he turned in his paper early and left,” Michael said.

The others didn’t think much of it; they were already used to Vid involving himself in adult matters.

...

Headmaster’s Office.

From the silver-shaped container, white mist billowed upwards, and an old painting on the wall opened its eyes.

Dumbledore’s expression was very serious.

He hadn’t spoken yet, but Phineas Black on the wall began to speak.

”Humph, absurd! Ridiculous! I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

”One of the founders, Slytherin, left a basilisk at the school? It’s simply incredulous! What would he do with a basilisk? Kill all of Hogwarts? Let’s not forget that we Slytherins are also part of Hogwarts!”

”Preposterous! So preposterous!”

”Just a look from a basilisk can kill! If a basilisk really roamed the school, the bones of those who’ve died here over a thousand years could fill the Black Lake!”

Vid ignored him and looked at Dumbledore, saying:

”So I still need to borrow your Fox- As far as I know, the Phoenix can immune to the basilisk’s gaze, and its tears can cure most toxins; it’s the only magical creature that can counter the basilisk.”

Unnoticed, the golden-red bird appeared and settled on Dumbledore’s shoulder, tilting its head to scrutinize the student intending to use its abilities.

Vid smiled at it and said, ”I would like to trouble Fox to peck out the basilisk’s eyes first, so we can face it safely—of course, this is just a personal request. If Fox is unwilling, we can think of another way.”

Fox let out a low call.

Dumbledore smiled, ”I believe that’s a yes.”

Fox solemnly nodded its head.

”Thank you very much, Fox,” Vid said, ”Then we will set the time for June 13th, the day after the Quidditch match. I will inform the relevant people; they can choose to participate voluntarily.”

”Very well,” Dumbledore said, ”Those who participate need to understand in advance what they’re up against.”

Fox also affirmatively nodded its head.

Its serious little eyes seemed to suggest it was the head of Hogwarts, and the white-bearded old man under it was merely a vehicle.

Vid couldn’t help but chuckle and said, ”Of course.”

...

”Do you really believe him?”

Phineas was dissatisfied, ”Dumbledore, don’t let yourself be swayed by a mere student! I admit he’s a bit clever, but you are the headmaster of this school!”

The previous headmasters in the other portraits nodded silently as well, and someone muttered, ”I’m glad I died early... children these days have less and less respect for their elders!”

Dumbledore laughed.

”Phineas, Armando, I don’t need formal respect from the children. Being able to have such equal conversations and provide some little help to the young is what I like the most.”

Armando Dippet muttered something, his eyes half-closed as if he had dozed off again.

When he was alive, he had an excellent student, both smart and handsome, who respected him greatly.

Later... that student became the Dark Lord, feared by the Magic World.

Phineas pursued, ”So you really believe him? Believe the school hides a basilisk that no one has ever seen?”

”Why not believe it? That child wouldn’t speak of something without assurance.”

Dumbledore sifted through the plate and finally chose a mango cookie thickly coated in cream.

”Even if there is... even if there really is...”

Phineas paced around in the portrait, unwilling, ”That’s Slytherin’s legacy, you understand? It’s a precious heritage from a founder! How could we casually let a few dispose of it?! That might be the last thing Slytherin left for the world.”

Slytherin’s legacy...

Dumbledore suddenly became lost in thought.

He remembered seeing, through someone’s memory, a black ring; he remembered the unique patterns on it, and the legends he chased in his youth.

After a long silence, Dumbledore heard Phineas still talking at great length:

”...for over a thousand years it hasn’t attacked anyone, it’s safe even just in case! Why not give it a chance? Let it stay peacefully...”

”It hasn’t always been that way,” Dumbledore said.

”What?” Phineas asked.

”Fifty years ago, a student died,” Dumbledore said, ”Remember her? She was called Moaning Myrtle, just a fourteen-year-old student.”

Phineas fell silent.

”Indeed, the basilisk has been quiet for over a thousand years, but I can understand why Vid feels it needs to be eliminated,”

Dumbledore continued, ”Because someone with the ability to control it has appeared... Tom Riddle, Slytherin’s heir, who also has the gift of Parseltongue. The basilisk could likely be manipulated by Voldemort, turning into a weapon against us.”

After a long time, another headmaster, Dilys, asked, ”Dumbledore, what about the students’ safety? Even without the power of its eyes, the basilisk isn’t something ordinary young wizards can deal with.”

”Oh, there’s no need to worry about that; I will naturally be present that day,” Dumbledore said, ”What I’m really concerned about is something else.”

But this time, no matter how others inquired, Dumbledore did not elaborate further.