Two weeks passed before she set foot in the chamber. Myrtle mocked her vigilance, but she just shrugged, trust a ghost to belittle any fear of death.
First she learned a cushioning spell, then a cutting charm, she bought dragonhide gloves and "borrowed" a rooster from Hagrid. Theo and Daph tried to corner her, but she ignored them with ease.
"Sσshsεz."
"Oooh, finally doing something?"
A nod.
"Well, you're sort of frumpy, but I suppose you can share my toilet when you die."
"Love you too, Myrtle."
Myrtle waited...
.
.
.
...ten minutes later the rooster crowed.
THUMP!
It was done.