Everyday Life of a Top Student at Hogwarts

Chapter 184 The Silent Castle and the Silent Patrol

Chapter 184 The Silent Castle and the Silent Patrol

The Christmas holidays had finally arrived. The Hogwarts Express, puffing out steam, carried eager students toward King's Cross Station. The castle instantly became empty and silent; even the echoing footsteps in the corridors sounded exceptionally clear.

Karen was left alone in the Eagle's Nest. Wesley, Fabian, and Ernesto, after repeatedly reminding him to be careful, also boarded the train home. Karen stood by the window, watching the last carriage disappear from sight; the vast castle seemed to consist only of him, the other students who stayed on campus, and those silent portraits and ghosts.

He spent two days preparing the remaining Christmas presents. The miniature walking ball simulator for Wesley was complete. Its core technology utilizes walking ball movement data and magical trajectory models extracted from the "Quidditch Eye" system, combined with a micro-levitation charm and an array of directional impact spells. After repeated calibration and testing, this compact device can simulate the attack trajectories of two walking balls within a limited space, with speed and impact force safely limited, sufficient to meet Wesley's training needs.

The alchemical astrolabe for Ernesto was also fully debugged. Although its size and complexity were far less than the giant instrument made by Castor in the astronomy class, it could accurately project the real-time positions and trajectories of the major planets in the solar system, and could adjust the flow of time to observe changes in the stars. Its core positioning and driving rune array fully demonstrated Karen's proficiency in alchemy.

The materials for his mother's brooch were all ready, awaiting only the final crafting and enchanting. But now, Karen's mind was completely consumed by the potential threat of the "basilisk." He couldn't wait for the prophecy to come true or for danger to strike.

"Some preparations need to be made," Karen muttered to himself as he walked toward the portable alchemy workshop. He needed a solution to counter the basilisk's deadly gaze.

First, there's visual protection. The basilisk's gaze is instantly fatal. Karen took out a pair of ordinary glasses that Phobos had brought back; the lenses were transparent glass. He carefully used a specially made mithril etching pen to etch an extremely fine, almost invisible array of complex runes inside the lenses. The core of this was "deflection," "refraction," and "high-intensity light filtering." Theoretically, when struck by a powerful gaze with an instant-death curse, the magical circuits inside the lenses would be instantly activated, deflecting or refracting most of the curse energy while filtering out excessive light, buying the wearer precious reaction time.

Of course, this could only weaken, not completely protect against, and it was ineffective against direct physical attacks. He repeatedly tested the stability and activation threshold of the rune circuit to ensure it wouldn't be accidentally triggered or affect normal vision. Karen suddenly had an idea: he could give it a fake "black screen" function. If Karen could react in time when encountering the basilisk, he could simply "black out" the screen to avoid eye contact. Finally, a pair of seemingly ordinary but actually ingenious glasses was completed. Karen carefully stored them away and carried them with him.

Secondly, there's the matter of sound weapons. A rooster's crowing is a basilisk's natural enemy. Karen retrieved several "phonograph shells" commonly used in the magical world from his locker—magical items that can record and play back sounds, similar to a Muggle tape recorder, but with a simpler structure. He needed to ensure the sound's authenticity and penetrating power; he could later go to Hagrid and choose the loudest one to record.

Finally, Karen took out a dormant mandrake seedling from Fabian and carefully transplanted it into a specially made thick leather bag with silencing and binding runes engraved on the inner wall. The cry of the mandrake is deadly, and Karen used it as a universal means of combat. Whatever this "ancient evil" was, mandrake should be effective against any living being. However, when using it, he had to remember to cast a spell on himself to block his hearing first. He then sealed the bag to ensure its safety and placed it in the outermost layer of his dragon-skin pouch for easy access and opening in an emergency.

With the equipment ready, it was time to investigate. Karen's target was clear: the entrance to the secret room from the original story, the abandoned girls' bathroom on the second floor.

He donned a thick cloak, put on his modified glasses, placed the phonograph shell containing the rooster's crow and the mandrake bag in an easily accessible spot, tucked his wand into the wand case in his sleeve, and quietly left the eagle's nest.

In the empty castle corridors, the sound of footsteps was exceptionally clear. The figures in the portraits watched the Ravenclaw student wandering alone with curiosity. The occasional ghosts he encountered merely nodded at him and drifted past. Karen maximized the perception of his "Eye of Truth," which, like invisible tentacles, meticulously scanned every inch of the walls, floors, and ceiling he passed, sensing the subtle changes in the flow of magic.

He first focused his investigation on the lower levels of the castle, such as the cellar corridors and several abandoned passageways. These areas were relatively close to Hogwarts' water system and were likely the routes the basilisk used for transportation. The magical field remained normal, a testament to Hogwarts' vast and ancient protective magic operating steadily, without any unusually cold, violent, or dark magical traces. There were also no signs of hidden passages for large creatures crawling through the walls.

Finally, he arrived at the door of the famous abandoned girls' restroom on the second floor. A crooked sign hung on the door, depicting a crying little girl and reading "Out of order". The door was ajar, and faint, heartbroken sobs could be heard from inside—it was Madam Tao.

Karen took a deep breath and pushed open the door. A damp, musty smell hit her. The light was dim, several old sink faucets dripped water, the tiles were cracked, and the mirror was covered in stains and condensation. A ghost wearing glasses and with braids was sitting on the toilet in the innermost cubicle, crying.

"Oh! A Ravenclaw student!" Myrtle looked at Karen through her thick glasses, her voice trembling with tears. But when she saw Karen's face clearly, her sobs paused, and her eyes seemed to brighten. "A boy! And—a rather handsome boy!"

She suddenly floated up from the toilet, her semi-transparent body moving closer, her face bearing an expression that was a mixture of resentment and curiosity. "Breaking into the girls' restroom! How shameless! Are you here to laugh at me? Or to peep at me while I'm showering? Or did you come here specifically to find me?"

She circled around Karen, her gaze lingering. "I know you, Karen Hawthorne, the Ravenclaw genius, Flitwick's darling, oh, those girls in the bathroom always talked about you, saying you were smart and beautiful, with grey-blue eyes like a winter lake—sob sob, why did no one pay so much attention to poor Myrtle when she was alive—" As she spoke, she began to sob again.

Karen suppressed her discomfort and tried to keep her voice calm and polite: "Hello, Myrtle. I was just passing by, heard the noise, and came in out of curiosity. This place seems to have been abandoned for a long time? Have you been living here all this time?"

"Of course it's abandoned!" Myrtle stopped crying and floated back to Karen, this time closer, almost touching him, though Karen couldn't feel it. "It's all because of me! Poor Myrtle, the one everyone laughed at, died here! Nobody wants to use this bathroom anymore! Waaah!"

Then she started crying again, but this time she was glancing at Karen's reaction as she cried. "It's just me, all alone here, with no one to talk to, no one to care—oh, except you, handsome Karen, would you like to come and talk to me? We can chat—" She tried to touch Karen's hair, but her fingers went right through it.

Karen subtly took a small step back, avoiding her overly "enthusiastic" contact. "Myrtle," he interrupted, his voice gentle but tinged with distance, "you've been here the whole time. Have you noticed anything particularly strange lately? Like, heard any unusual sounds? Hissing? Or seen anything unusual? Like—a very large shadow? Or felt particularly cold or oppressive?"

As he asked questions, his sharp gaze swept over every corner, especially the brass faucets. Most of the faucets' brass was dull and even rusted. He carefully examined the small animal reliefs on the sides of the faucets.

"Strange thing? A hissing sound?" Myrtle tilted her head, seemingly deep in thought, temporarily forgetting her flirting. "A hissing sound?"

Peeves sometimes imitates a snake's roar to scare passing students, does that count? Oh! And that pesky cat Filch, Mrs. Lorris, sometimes hisses when it catches mice—as for its huge shadow?

She floated above a cubicle. "The biggest shadow here is me! Or when Peeves turns into a giant bat? But lately he seems to be obsessed with painting his armor? It's especially cold? Depressing?" She suddenly became melancholy again, cupping her face in her hands. "It's always so cold and depressing here! Poor Myrtle died here, her resentment soaring to the heavens—" She seemed about to start another round of crying.

"Besides these everyday things?" Karen pressed patiently, his gaze fixed on one of the faucets with a snake-shaped relief. "Like, has anyone sneaked in? Or, do you have a feeling that something very ancient and very ominous is awakening nearby?" He pointed to the faucet with the snake relief. "That faucet seems a bit special? What's carved on it? A small snake?"

Myrtle followed his finger and twitched, but her attention was drawn back to Karen's question: "Sneaking in? Hmm, sometimes couples try to find a secluded spot to get intimate, but they run away as soon as they see me! Hehe!" She seemed to find this amusing.

"Ancient? Something bad is waking up?" She shook her head blankly. "No, the castle has always been ancient. The bad things are just those nasty Slytherins, and Oliver Honbay who mocked me!"

She clearly didn't like the faucet with the snake carved on it. She pouted, "Oh, that one—"—"It never dispenses water, is it broken? There's a snake carved on it. Humph, the Slytherin symbol! It must have been some nasty Slytherin student's doing! Just as annoying as Oliver who mocked me!"

Karen approached for a closer look. The faucet was located above a washbasin, which itself appeared quite old. The snake relief on the faucet was exquisitely detailed, its head slightly raised and mouth tightly closed. He examined it carefully with his "Eye of Truth," and found that the faucet itself showed no obvious signs of magic, seemingly just a decoration. Of course, he knew that the entrance to the secret chamber was beneath it. However, there were no traces of snake scales rubbing together nearby, nor any peculiar odor. Although Myrtle's mental state was unstable, her information seemed to confirm that there had been no recent anomalies.

"It seems there's no sign of it being opened—" Karen confirmed in his mind, letting out a slight sigh of relief. "At least not in the near future. Although Myrtle is emotional, she should be very sensitive to any unusual activity here." This was good news, meaning the basilisk was likely still sealed deep within the secret chamber. But he dared not let his guard down.

Karen, while dealing with Myrtle's attempts to get closer and chat again—"Karen, your eyes are so beautiful, like a lake in winter—""What do you usually like to do? Read? You have such an elegant air about you—"—while casually stretching his body. He walked to a relatively dry corner of the washroom, near the ceiling vent. This was a certain distance from Myrtle's usual stall, and close to the sink, making it less likely for her to notice him.

"Myrtle, how about I bring you some fresh flower petals for your bath next time? Roses or lavender?" Karen offered the bait.

Distract her.

"Really? Oh! Karen, you're so kind!" Myrtle was immediately captivated and excitedly twirled in the air. "I love roses! Pink ones! They smell so good!" She didn't notice that Karen, taking advantage of her turn, subtly flicked her wrist, cleverly securing a small recorder with an adhesive spell to the shadowy corner between a thick water pipe and the wall below the vent, in an extremely concealed location.

This simple magical recorder, modified by Karen, can continuously record surrounding sounds for about three days. He plans to check and replace it every three days as an additional means of monitoring this crucial entrance.

"Of course it's true," Karen smiled, subtly confirming that the recorder was on. "Alright, Myrtle, I have to go now. I'll bring flower petals to see you next time."

"Oh, so you're leaving already?" Myrtle seemed disappointed, floating to the doorway. "Remember to come! Handsome Karen! I'll miss you!" She waved at Karen's retreating figure, then began her signature sobs again, "Waaah, poor Myrtle is all alone again."

Karen hurried away from the damp, chilly yet "warm" place, closing the bathroom door behind him and shutting out Myrtle's mournful cries. He checked his pockets for the phonograph shell and mandrake bag, making sure they were both there. The recorder was an extra precaution, hopefully to capture any possible unusual hissing or the sound of the secret room being opened.

Over the next few days of his vacation, Karen's life became routine and peaceful. During the day, he spent most of his time in the Eagle's Nest, delving into Nico's notes on the connection between soul fragments and the Helbo Curse, or studying the section on "Active as Niven" in Lucian Sinclair's experimental log. In the evenings, he would conduct his routine castle patrol, covering most of the main castle's public areas and several main corridors, focusing on sensing unusual magical fluctuations.

He occasionally encountered other students staying at school while dining in the Great Hall: the Weasley twins were always full of energy, devising new pranks; Harry and Ron seemed somewhat lonely, but engrossed in wizarding chess or the library, no longer needing to worry about finding out who Nicolas Flamel was this holiday. Quirrell remained elusive, pale-faced, his head wrapped tightly in his hand. Cullen had observed him several times with her "Eye of Truth," and Voldemort, the parasite on the back of his head, seemed suddenly much weaker than before, but otherwise, there seemed to be nothing unusual.

Karen kept his distance, detecting no sign of the basilisk's activity. The castle was as quiet as a sleeping giant. Had his premonition failed him? But this excessive calm only tightened the tension in Karen's heart. The calmest hour is often before the storm. He could only continue to wait, continue to prepare.