Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Chapter 647: The Secret of the Golden Egg

“Ah!” Ron hurried to the golden egg, his foot slipped, he lost his balance of gravity, and he fell heavily.

Harry fell down too, and Ron pressed on him. And they both accidentally swallowed a considerable amount of bubbles.

They hurried to separate, stood up panting and sputtering.

“It’s you!” Ron looked up and saw the ghost of a very glum-looking girl sitting cross-legged on top of one of the taps.

It was Moaning Myrtle!!!

It was a troublesome ghost. She was the first victim when Tom Riddle opened Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets more than 50 years ago to release the basilisk.

Since then, she was often to be heard sobbing in the S-bend of a toilet in the out-of-order girls’ bathroom.

“It’s me!” she said, with a rare teasing smile on her face.

Following her gaze, Harry looked down to see himself completely naked.

“Myrtle!” he said in outrage, “How can you be here? I … we’re not wearing anything!”

Watched by Myrtle, Harry had a very uncomfortable feeling.

The foam was so dense that it covered everything, but he had a nasty feeling that Myrtle had been spying on them from out of one of the taps ever since they had arrived and undressed.

“I closed my eyes and saw nothing!” she said, blinking at Harry and Ron through her thick spectacles, her eyes fixed on Harry longer. “Speaking of which, you haven’t been to see me for ages. And where’s Evan?”

When searching for Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets in the castle the year before last, Evan, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had contact with Myrtle.

Ron, in particular, had to apologize to Myrtle for inappropriate remarks at Nick’s deathday party.

It was a nightmare-like memory. When he thought about it, all the hair on his body stood up.

“Only Evan can deal with her!” Ron whispered, approaching Harry. “What should we do?”

Harry shook his head, bending his knees slightly, just to make absolutely sure Myrtle couldn’t see anything but his head.

“Why don’t you come to see me, do you hate me?” Myrtle asked, looking sad.

“Well …” said Harry. “We’re not supposed to come into your bathroom, are we? It’s a girls’ bathroom, and boys are not allowed to enter it.”

“You didn’t use to care,” said Myrtle miserably. “You used to be in there all the time.”

“We got told off for going in there!” said Harry, pushing Ron. What he said was half-true. Percy had once caught them coming out of Myrtle’s bathroom.

“Yeah … so we thought we’d better not come back after that!” Ron continued. He wrinkled his nose and tried to stay away from Myrtle.

This evening was really terrible. He took a bath with the Golden Egg foolishly, and he met Myrtle who was spying on them.

This way, it might be better for him to admit defeat and go straight to Evan and Hermione for help.

“Oh … I see …” said Myrtle, picking at a spot on her chin in a morose sort of way. “But you can still come later. I allow you to come. Yes, you can also call Evan, and come to see me together!”

Harry and Ron nodded in a hurry and said they would definitely come later. Anyway, Evan would be there, and he was very good at dealing with Moaning Myrtle.

“Anyway … I’d try the egg in the water. That’s what Cedric Diggory did,” said Myrtle.

“Have you been spying on him too?” Harry asked. “What do you do, sneak up here in the evenings to watch the prefects take baths?”

“Sometimes,” said Myrtle, rather slyly, “after all, it’s boring to be in the bathroom all the time. I need some change, but I’ve never come out to speak to anyone before.”

“We’re honored,” said Harry darkly. He and Ron looked at one another. No one wanted to go out and take the golden egg rolling to the distance under the watchful eyes of Myrtle.

Finally, Ron had to get up. Who told him to be a Champion?!

“You keep your eyes shut, Myrtle!” he said loudly.

Ron made sure Myrtle had her glasses well covered before hoisting himself out of the bath, wrapping a towel firmly around his waist.

Harry blinked and saw that Myrtle was looking at Ron through her fingers, and could see everything clearly.contemporary romance

That was terrible. He swore he would never come here to bathe again.

Ron ran back with the golden egg breathing heavily.

Harry thought about it and didn’t tell him what Myrtle had just done, especially that when he was holding the egg, the towel slipped down.

“What should we do now?”

“Open it under the water!”

Ron lowered the egg beneath the foamy surface and opened it.

This time, it didn’t wail. A gurgling song was coming out of it, a song whose words they couldn’t distinguish through the water.

Harry and Ron looked at one another again. So that was the case!

“You need to put your heads under the water too,” said Myrtle, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying bossing them around. “Go on!”

Harry and Ron took a great breath and slid under the surface. They sat on the marble bottom of the bubble-filled bath and they heard a chorus of eerie voices singing to them from the open egg:

“Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you’re searching ponder this:

We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,

An hour long you’ll have to look,

But past an hour … the prospect’s black,

Too late, it’s gone, it won’t be back.”

“What does that mean?” Ron asked, drilling out of the bubble-filled bath.

“You’ve got to go and look for people who can’t use their voices above the ground!” said Harry, and he followed. “But who could that be? Who can’t sing above the ground?”

He shook his hair out of his eyes, and there was a flash in his mind.

“Ron, do you remember Hermione’s speculation this morning?” said Harry quickly. “What she said when we saw Krum jumping into the lake, and Gabrielle said that her sister was going to swim in the lake too!”

“You mean the lake in front of the castle.” Ron’s face turned pale and he couldn’t believe it. “This is impossible!”

“Yeah, the second task is definitely in the lake, letting you find what you’ll sorely miss.”

“Well, that’s what Diggory thought,” said Myrtle, looking at Harry with appreciation. “He lay there talking to himself for ages about it. Ages and ages … nearly all the bubbles had gone.”

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