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xii. false hope
"I was up all night thinking."
Ron scoffed, taking a large bite of his toast, "Are we to be shocked?"
Matilda ignored him rolling her eyes, "I was thinking about the student who died in the bathroom," She looked between Harry and Ron who sat on the bench across the table. "You know, the one that Aragog mentioned."
She was careful to talk in only whispers so that those around her wouldn't hear them talking about their late-night excursion into a spider's nest.
"Yeah, me too," admitted Harry. "If only we could find some information about her. You'd think there'd be more out there considering she was a student who died here."
"What if we already know who she is," suggested Matilda, grinning, immensely proud of herself.
Ron looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean? How could we know her?" his mouth was full, muffling his voice. "She died fifty years ago. That's even older than my mum."
"It's Myrtle."
She blurted the name out quickly, "The student who was killed – it's Myrtle."
It wasn't even a theory anymore. Matilda knew that Myrtle was the student who had been killed by the monster the last time the chamber was opened. Nothing else made sense.
Ron let out a loud laugh, showcasing his half-chewed food to everyone, "Myrtle?" he asked her, shaking his head. "Can't be."
But Matilda only looked at Harry, who nodded.
"No, Ron, it does make sense," he said, turning to his best friend. "Just think about it. A student who died in a bathroom at the school fifty years ago... I mean, who else —" He turned back to Matilda. "You're a genius, Tilly."
Flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder, Matilda smirked, "I know."
"All those times we were in that bathroom, and she was just three toilets away," said Ron bitterly, "and we could've asked her, and now..."
