Chapter Seventeen:
Myrtle stared at Hermione and Dumbledore as if she had suddenly been struck by a magical, bolt of lightning. She looked as if she'd been petrified, floating solidly in one place straight above them. Myrtle was speechless after hearing the new from Hermione, for only a moment, before she became extremely angry.
She suddenly sprang into action and thrust her face right in front of the Professor's face. Her own face contorted as Myrtle screamed at him, "I want to see the letter!"
Catching Hermione's eye Myrtle turned to her and cried out with feeling, "How dare you deceive me, Hermione, I thought you were my only friend! How could you lie to me by saying I'm free, when I know without a doubt that I am not. No one has ever paid any attention to Moaning Myrtle, why would anyone start caring about me now?" Her voice broke into small heart breaking whimpers.
"Myrtle," Hermione chose a soothing voice as she approached her friend who huddled behind a full length mirror sitting in the corner of the office. The mirror had been covered only minutes before by a thick black blanket. After Myrtle had flown over the mirror in order to hide behind it, the blanket fell to the ground and the mirror was revealed.
Hermione was started to approach her friend when Dumbledore laid a warning hand on her shoulder. His tone was filled with caution, "Careful Hermione. This mirror has a curse upon it. An old friend of mine gave the mirror as a gift to me a few years ago and since then I've been trying to break the curse but I haven't succeeded. I've been spending my free time mulling over my books containing rare spells to see if I can find a glitch somewhere. I wanted to see if I might unravel the deadly curse, but so far nothing has worked. There was too much powerful influence put into the curse from the one who caused the damage."
Hermione wondered who might have been powerful enough to cast such a long standing curse that even Dumbledore could not break it. She was afraid she already knew the answer when she asked grudgingly, "Who was it who cursed this mirror Professor?"
"Tom Riddle," Dumbledore said the name slowly and Myrtle shrunk into the corner behind the mirror trembling from head to foot.
"The curse on the glass of the mirror is triggered by touch."
"So," Hermione met Myrtle's eyes and her voice was filled with reassurance, "as long as no one touches the glass then we will be safe?"
Dumbledore nodded but Hermione couldn't help but ask quietly, "What happens when the curse is activated by someone's touch?"
"They've been known to disappear forever, inside the mirror…"
"You mean, we'll get sucked into the mirror if we touch it?" Hermione felt a shiver of fear race along her spine as Myrtle plastered herself to the wall behind her. Fearfully gazing at the mirror Myrtle had unintentionally hidden behind, she met Hermione's eyes and whispered a plea for help. Hermione tried her best to comfort her friend, "You'll be fine Myrtle, the Professor and I will help you get away from the mirror, you don't need to worry."
Dumbledore said quietly as if he were talking out loud to himself in a chiding sort of way. He glanced at Hermione and then looked away again, "I normally have the mirror locked up in a safe location, protected from anyone who might be harmed by it…but today I was working on an attempt to free the people who have already been sucked into the mirror. I didn't think about removing it from my office from unsuspecting students. I should have known better."
Dumbledore took a minute and made his way over to Myrtle and the mirror. He spoke soothingly, reassuring the ghost with his voice as he stepped closer to her. "You're alright Myrtle." Hermione noticed the small three inch gap between the mirror and Myrtle's hiding place behind it. Dumbledore carefully stretched out his hand to the fearful ghost and Myrtle looked at him through her spectacles, with dark eyes that widened with terror.
Tom Riddle had been the one who killed Myrtle. Hermione thought of the memory she'd seen of Myrtle's body suspended in mid-air after the terrible deed had been done. The curse he'd placed on the mirror was provided by none other than Myrtle's most fearful and dreaded enemy. It would take all the courage Myrtle possessed to reach out and take Dumbledore's hand in order to step safely away from the hazardous mirror.
"I-I can't fly over the m-m-irror, I-I'm t-too s-scared," she trembled even where she sat. Hermione held her breath even though she saw that the back of the glass was encased in solid pasty pine. She didn't know if the curse would be activated through touch if Myrtle's ghostly form slipped up and bumped the casing around the back of the glass.
"You don't need to fly over it Myrtle, just reach out your hand, there you go…and take Dumbledore's." Hermione coaxed her in the same tone someone might use to tame a wild animal. Fearfully Myrtle reached a shaking hand over to Dumbledore and the Professor reacted quickly during the minute their palms made contact.
Hermione was surprised that Dumbledore's hand did not simply move straight through Myrtle's ghostly form. But through some whispered words of magic spoken from Dumbledore, which he muttered indecipherably beneath his breath, the Professor had the ability to pull Myrtle from even death threatening harm. Myrtle was moved safely away from the detrimental mirror.
Hermione rushed over to her friend's side, she would have hugged her if she could, but since she didn't have the ability to do so; she simply sighed in relief, "Are you alright now Myrtle?"
"Y-yes, I t-think so…" Myrtle still trembled and she was gazing at Dumbledore with curiosity and with some new sense of admiration that edged its way into her eyes, "You-you saved me Professor."
He breathed deeply and took a minute to respond, sitting back against his desk to rest for a minute. It seemed that touching Myrtle's hand had taken some strength from Dumbledore. The Professor appeared to look decidedly drained, and even though he smiled warmly at Myrtle and nodded in response. Hermione worried about him.
"Professor, are you alright?"
His kind eyes turned to her and warmed even more as his words reassured her, "Yes Hermione. Thank you for inquiring. It seems that reaching over into another realm can cause some drainage of one's own life energy."
"Is that what you did then? Did you use the post life spell so that you could take Myrtle's hand and save her?" asked Hermione gazing at him curiously. She wasn't able to hear the words he'd muttered beneath his breath…but she'd been almost positive that he had used a rare spell, unheard of by most, in order to reach out and touch Myrtle's ghostly hand with his live flesh.
If it was the post life spell then Hermione knew that the use of this rare spell could shave a year or two off of the living person's life if they succeeded in touching the non-living person. Dumbledore had succeeded, and in doing so, he had sacrificed a year of his own life in order to save Myrtle. With every spell and every curse cast, there was a price that must be paid.