Part 6

Dumbledore watched as the Unspeakable that had been sent by the DoM perform spell after spell on Myrtle's unconscious form, harshly restraining his eagerness for answers. If this was what he thought it was, then a whole new level of medical science could be discovered. Not only that, but there was also a chance of learning of that which transcends the mundane. Myrtle, if she remembered anything from her time as a ghost, would become one of the most important people in the Wizarding World.

Which was why he was restraining himself. He was Headmaster of Hogwarts. Myrtle was still his student. His primary concern was her well-being. Everything else could wait.

The Unspeakable finally stepped away, wand returning to its holster. "She's alive, and it looks like it'll keep," he informed them, disbelief in his tone. "And yes, Albus, it's most definitely the Soul Arts. Soul Arts that were either done improperly, or were interfered with."

That was both a boon and a problem in the same package. "What of her magic?" Pomfrey asked.

"Thankfully, it's replenishing, like she was just suffering from magic exhaustion. Once it's fully restored, she'll wake up. Shouldn't be more than a few days, at least. A week at most." He looked back at her sympathetically. "Bloody hell, fifty years dead, and here she is with a new lease on life, like she had never been killed in the first place. I would love to take her to the Department of Mysteries, but I can already guess at what the answer will be."

"And you would be right. As she is my patient, she will not be moved until I deem it safe for her to be moved."

"And she will not be used as an experiment, Croaker," Dumbledore added, a hint of steel in his voice. "Regardless of how long she has been dead, she is still a student of this school. At the very least, she should be allowed to finish her education."

Croaker nodded in agreement. "I have to agree with you, Dumbledore," he replied. "No child should have to go through that. So my recommendation is that you keep her return a secret, as well as the way it was done. Otherwise, I'm pretty certain that certain others may try and take her." Tipping his hat in farewell, he walked out of the Medical Wing.

His warning was not needed, of course, but it was nonetheless relevant. There were so many wizards and witches in positions of power would love to have Myrtle studied, just because of this. And Voldemort was still out there. Once he learned that Myrtle had returned, he would do everything he could to capture her.

But as Dumbledore knew only too well, such a secret could only be hidden for so long. He would need to make plans to try and keep her safe.

Sighing, the Headmaster looked down at the student he had failed. The first of Voldemort's many victims. And now, through sheer happenstance, she was granted a second chance. Hopefully, she would have a better time of it. Steeling himself, he turned to Pomfrey. "I will be off," he said. "Let me know if anything changes."

"Of course, Albus. Minerva?" Pomfrey asked.

"I'll retire for now," she replied. "There isn't much I can do right now. Could you also inform me when she awakes?"

The Head Nurse nodded. "I'll let you know if she awakens early," she promised them both.

Nodding the two of them headed out. They could do nothing here, but hopefully, they could do something about the inevitable fallout.

He could only hope Mister Weasley, Miss Chang, and Miss Lovegood were prepared for that as well.

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"Auror Tonks? You sent for me?"

Tonks looked up, taking in the person who had just arrived. "I did," she replied. "Could you come over here? I need your help before the rest of my team shows up and begins mucking around with scanning spells." That wasn't the only reason, of course. After all, would any of them want a thirteen year old at their crime scene? Would they even show her any respect?

Claire walked over to her, taking in the entire room in one single look. She whistled. "Soul Arts," she stated, obviously knowing her history from her original school. "I can literally feel the vibrations in the air."

"You nailed it. The other Aurors aren't sworn in on this, hence the absolute secrecy. And our spells aren't designed to detect Soul Art usage. Right now, I need to know what specific spells were used, and hopefully find out who was responsible."

That was a good idea, though Claire had a few doubts about the latter part. Unlike the magic of the Wizarding World, figuring out who used forbidden arts like this was practically impossible without using it as well. But she knew about Myrtle's resurrection, and she understood what it might mean for those who would want to live forever. So if nothing else, she could at least determine where the spells were used. "Okay, give me a second."

She stepped forward, sweeping the area where the cauldron was, feeling the vibrations. "All right, this is where the spell occurred," she reported. "I'm detecting the remains what looks like Runic spells. Myrtle was probably captured in them when she entered the room. The Cauldron was where whatever spell was cast. And…" she frowned. "That's odd. There's a second vibration here… much smaller… and it didn't originate from this room."

Well, that was something Tonks wasn't expecting. But it also meant that there was more going on than they originally thought. "It was cast from another spot. Can you follow it to its origin point?"

"Sure can. Right this way." Claire slowly walked forward, heading out the door. Tonks wasn't too far behind her. Their journey went about six minutes, which saw them navigating through a few smaller corridors.

And then… Claire stopped at a point before the more populated areas. Tonks waited for a second to see if she would start walking again. When she didn't, the Auror concluded that they had reached the origin point.

"This is where the spell originated," Claire stated, confirming the thought. "If I were to take a guess, whoever cast it didn't do it immediately. Instead, they waited until they were out of sight of the rest of the school. Is this area always deserted?"

Tonks nodded. "The Magical War saw a lot of young students lives lost, and we're still trying to recover. As a result, this area has been empty for nearly two decades. The Dark Wanker saw to that."

Claire nodded. "Which would make this entire area a suitable place for whoever is using the Soul Arts to practice, as well as a place of battle. Someone is going to have to keep an eye on it."

Tonks knew that, but she also knew how unlikely that was going to happen. Even with the Dementors patrolling the borders of the School(fat load of good they were,) there weren't enough experienced officers to even consider it. The Aurors were at Hogwarts to protect the populated areas, not to hunt down potential Soul Sorcerers.

She sighed. "All right, I'm going to report to Madam Bones about what we've learned. You should probably get back to the Gryffindor Common Room in case the students start asking questions."

"Yeah, good idea." Claire quickly jogged off. The last thing she needed was anyone trying to figure out what she was doing in her spare time.

Nodding to herself, Tonks made her way back to the room. She needed to be there before the others arrived, as she was the leading investigator. They would do their regular set of scans for what amounted to a crime scene.

While they wouldn't be able to detect the Soul Arts, they might still be able to find something.

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Claire waited until she was certain she was far enough from Tonks before slumping, breathing out in relief. That was entirely too close. If the young Auror had thought to ask if she had a clue as to who it was, she would have had no choice but to tell her. And she did have a clue as to who it was.

She had no idea how either Ron or the Ravenclaw had known to use a Soul Tracking spell, but it looked to have achieved an unexpected result. The ghost Myrtle had become a living being. So she did have a clue on who cast that spell. And they were looking to be an unintended asset.

It was whoever was casting that other spell that she was worried about. She was going to have to return after the Aurors had finished their investigation in order to look it over herself.

Otherwise, she was going to have to call her Sensei in.

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As it turned out, Marietta would beat Cho to the punch. The very second she and Luna entered the Ravenclaw Common Room, their classmate walked over to them, gaze stormy. It was clear she was still salty about what happened earlier.

"Luna, could you wait here, please?" Cho requested calmly. "I think Marietta and I need to talk." Throwing a glance at the others that were in the room in a silent warning, she quickly guided her 'friend' up to their dormitory, placing a Silencing and Locking Charm on the door. "Alright, talk. Why do you hate Luna?"

Marietta looked at her as if she couldn't believe Cho would ask such a question. Either that, or she didn't think what she was doing was wrong. "Why are you protecting that nutcase?" she finally retaliated with. "I mean, for Merlin's sake, Cho! She's not normal! She believes in animals that don't exist! She practically enjoys freaking everyone out! She's the very definition of crazy! She deserves to be in a looney bin and you know it!"

Every last thing she said, she said with absolute certainty. Cho, on the other hand, didn't believe any of it. In the few short days she had actually spoken to Luna, she had only seen a friendly young girl who, while eccentric(the radish earrings were a bit much,) was highly intelligent. And the creatures she apparently believed in? After what she and Ron had learned, there may be a basis for them to exist. More importantly, Luna had trusted two people she had barely spoken to with a terrible task, believing that they could complete it. And she never once complained about her life.

But if this level of torment had been going on since she had arrived at Hogwarts, she should have informed Professor Flitwick immediately. But she hadn't, and this had been allowed to fester.

"She is far more perceptive than you or I will ever be, Mari," she informed her calmly. "And she has suffered far more as well. Or have you forgotten what happened to her mother? If she seems odd, well, that's just who she is. And as for freaking everyone out… I haven't seen any evidence of her doing that. She simply goes about her day, rarely speaking to anyone. So, whatever the problem is, it's coming from your end. And it is going to stop, right now. If you have nothing good to say to her, say nothing at all."

She instinctively took a step back, unconsciously bracing herself for a fight. For there it was in Marietta's eyes; that same gaze of malicious intent she had glimpsed before. It was almost like her fellow Fourth-Year Ravenclaw was ready to attack her. Had it always been there? Why had she never seen it before? What was going on in her mind?

After a few moments, however, the maliciousness faded away. Marietta sighed instead. "I'll try to avoid her, then," she stated reluctantly.

Cho almost collapsed in relief for so many reasons. Crisis avoided, she hoped. "Thanks, Mari. Now, I'm going to go check on some things. I'll talk to you later." She quickly undid the locking and silencing charms and headed back to the Common Room. She needed to talk to Luna for a second.

As a result, she missed the maliciousness return to her friend's eyes. "I'll try to avoid her," she whispered. "I never said that I would succeed…"

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Luna looked up as Cho reentered the Common Room, quickly realizing what had happened. "You saw it, too," she stated, not even needing to elaborate. "What I saw in the hallway."

Cho nodded. "I never thought I would see such… hatred in a person before," she confessed, sitting down next to the younger girl. "I especially never thought I would see it in her. She reminded me of the stories I heard about Death Eaters during the war." She looked at Luna. "Has she been bullying you?"

Luna shrugged, thinking for a second. "You know… I think she has. I have been losing my stuff ever since the start of the year. I have even been locked out of the dormitories a few times."

She recalled the night she had found Luna on the couch without her socks. "They don't let you into the dormitories."

"Sometimes. I think the nargles are confusing some of them, so I don't blame them."

"Somehow, I don't think they're confused at all. Do the prefects at least know about this?"

Luna shook her head. "I doubt it. I don't think they're even aware of it."

Another thing Cho had serious doubts about, but she had no proof. So, she shelved that for further investigation. So instead, she continued her gentle probing. "Have you talked to Professor Flitwick?"

"I didn't want to bother him. He just has so much responsibilities, and will have even more now that Myrtle has been brought back to life."

Those were excellent points, which brought another point to the table; the fact that Myrtle was alive. This would definitely take all of Flitwick's attention on top of everything else that was going on. So what to do for Luna?

"Look, Luna," Cho began gently, "I won't tell you what to do, or how to handle this problem. I'm just not qualified to. However, if something like what you told me happens again, I want you to find me, alright? That way, you won't be sleeping in the Common Room alone." It was the least she could do for her. She could only hope Luna accepted her help.

Her relief would have been enough to charge a car battery when the younger girl did indeed nod, smiling.

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Ron sat in front of the fire, lost in thought. It had been a rather confusing couple of days. A few days ago, he was just Ron Weasley, the third member of the Golden Trio. The big Chudley Cannons fan that got lucky. And now, several things happened. He and Cho Chang, who he had never even interacted with before, were now starting to use the Soul Arts. A transfer student had begun her education at Hogwarts. They had fought a creature of the Mists. And finally, Moaning Myrtle had been resurrected. That's a lot to happen, even at Hogwarts.

For the first time, he was grateful that Luna had given him that book.

"Hey, Ron."

"How are you doing, Brother?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm doing fine, you two," he replied. "Any particular reason why you're bothering me, now?"

Fred and George plopped down on either side of him, looking at him with a level of seriousness that they rarely had. "We figured that you could use some company, and we decided to volunteer our services," the former stated.

"And we figured that you would like our company instead of Percy," the latter added. "So here we are."

"We also wanted to know if you had heard the rumors that are already circulating."

"About what?"

"About Moaning Myrtle."

Ron's eyes widened. "Rumors?" There was no way that had spread across the school already. News couldn't travel that fast!

Fred nodded. "Judging by the look on your face, you haven't… but you do know something." He leaned back. "So, out with it, Ronnekins."

He looked at first Fred, then George, weighing his options. Then he looked around. "Myrtle's alive," he muttered quietly. "She's currently in the Medical Wing. No one knows why, but I can confirm that something restored her to a living state."

Both twins were speechless, which was a feat in on itself.

But Ron wasn't done yet. "Don't yo dare tell anyone else about this. If the wrong person were to learn about what happened…" he left the last part unsaid, but his brothers weren't stupid. They could put two and two together.

George looked at Fred for a moment, before both nodded. "No one will hear of it from us," he promised. "And if she needs help…"

"When she wakes up, I'll let her know." Not that it mattered, but it was the thought that counted. And Ron knew Myrtle might appreciate the offer.

However, it did give him a kernel of an idea…

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Snape once more sat in his office, finishing up the grading of his third year Potions class. Safe from prying eyes, he nodded to himself. Some of the students had some talent. If he could, he would ensure that they continued onward beyond school… so long as his cover wasn't blown.

Sighing, the Potions Professor leaned back in his chair. Despite the fact that Voldemort was far from England at this point, his shadow still hung over the magical community. So much so that he had had to maintain his rather dour, antagonistic personality at all times.

Thinking for a moment, he opened one of the drawers, pulling a small parcel out. He observed it for a second, wondering if he should use it. Would it even be possible? Or should he hand it over to Lupin? (Just the mere thought caused his skin to crawl.)

After a second, he put it back in the drawer, then rose. It would be there tomorrow. He could come to a decision in the morning.

He would need to talk to Claire first, of course. She would be able to answer his question.

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Bones sighed, leaning back in her seat. "So the Soul Arts are confirmed," she noted sadly.

Dumbledore nodded. "In this case, it seems to have had a benefical effect, if not intended." He looked at the report Tonks had submitted. "On a more confusing note is the second spell's location. That would certainly imply that someone else cast it, and that they were trying to locate Myrtle without checking to see if anyone else was using the Arts as well. This means that we are dealing with inexperienced practioners."

"Lovely. We're dealing with amateurs." She wasn't sure what scared her more. The fact that someone was trying some kind of spirit entrapment spell, or the fact that someone who didn't have a clue as to what they were doing was walking around the castle and they didn't even know who it was.

"Yes, but even an amateur Soul practioner is more powerful than the most experienced Hit Wizards. And Soul Arts are among the very few powers that can definitively destroy the Black Mists." The Headmaster nodded to himself, as if a course of action had just revealed himself. "We must of course discover the identities of this person. If nothing else, they must be informed of the inherent dangers of using such an art."

"Not stop them?"

"If they are utilizing the Soul Arts, they are doing so for good reason. And there is no way to stop them without killing them outright."

Bones nodded, reluctantly agreeing with him on that. They had no way to contain it, and no way to track it with their own current spells. So whoever it was, they were going to have to find them the muggle way. She hoped her Auror were up to the task.

"What of the other concern?" she asked, refering to the School Wards.

Dumbledore smiled. "I have had Professor Flitwick slect his finest seventh year students for a once-in-a-lifetime assignment," he explained. "If we are fortunate, they will learn how the wards work, and find a way to fix them."

It didn't seem like the most feasible plan ever made, but considering that no one, not even the Goblins, knew how the ancient wards worked, it was the best plan they had. Still, she was going to call in some Ward experts as soon as she could.

Dumbledore yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Well, I daresay that it has been a long few days, and we have can do no more. Best we turn in for the night, and deal with what comes next with a clear head."

"Agreed." Bones got up, stretching her back out, before heading out. She wish she could see her niece before she left, but Susan wasn't in the know. She would have to tread carefully.

Besides, she had a feeling that she was going to be returning to Hogwarts a number of times in the future.

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Pomfrey made one final check on Myrtle, seeing that she was still asleep, then made sure that the windows were closed. Satisfied that all was well, she set an alarm for seven o'clock, then headed to her office to sleep. There was nothing more she could do until the young girl awoke, and she wasn't in any danger.

Myrtle shifted a little in her sleep, a hand emerging from the blanket to rub her nose unconsciously, before it dropped down again. With a little luck, she would be awake in the morning.

But there was something that no one had noticed before. Something that hadn't been there in her first life. Something peaking out from under her wrist. It was something that would have invariably doomed her, but had now proven to be her salvation.

Tom Riddle's experiment had been far more effective than even he had thought. He might come to regret that.

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