Chapter 133: Marietta’s Silence
「The Chamber passage is hidden among the pipes, with the entrance located in the third-floor girls’ bathroom」
「The third copper faucet, with a snake-shaped carving on its side.」
「Say “open” to it in Parseltongue.」
「News from inside the Chamber, forgive me for not being able to reveal it for now.」
This information is all displayed on an old diary, and Riddle says again at this point: 「Dear Melvin, you are very clever and talented. Perhaps we can make a transaction.」
Next to the desk, Melvin copies the useful information onto parchment. There aren’t many words in total. After his identity is exposed, the trust between intimate pen pals is completely gone. Tom Riddle finds he can’t continue deceiving him and tries to use this as leverage to reach cooperation with Melvin.
Melvin feels a little regretful. Over the past two months, Riddle’s senior student’s Dark Magic tutoring has benefited him greatly. The unicorn gift has been fully developed, and he has almost mastered the three Unforgivable Curses, just lacking some practice opportunities.
While Melvin is copying, the old ink on the diary fades. Riddle continues to persuade, earnestly and sincerely.
「We spent an unforgettable pleasant time together. Please believe me, I won’t plan or scheme to harm you. Our friendship will last forever. Besides the Unforgivable Curses, I know many powerful magics.」
「Right now, I am just a diary and won’t take any of the treasure in Slytherin’s Chamber. I only need a transaction—no, help between friends.」
「What do you think, dear Melvin?」
Melvin watches these words floating, his eyes showing no fluctuation.
The 16-year-old Tom Riddle is exceptionally talented, but that’s all. The soul fragment in the diary is not yet that Dark Lord. Many ideas are just in embryonic form. After two months of interaction, there is no more value to exploit.
Melvin just picks up the quill and calmly writes a name on the diary: 「Tom Marvolo Riddle」
Before the diary can reply, he writes below: 「I am Lord Voldemort」
The diary’s cover suddenly vibrates, the paper trembles and rustles, and dense ink is about to emerge.
Bang—
Melvin closes the diary, temporarily cutting off contact with this pen pal. He shakes his head, smiles, and seals it into a separate wooden box.
Let Riddle agonize and self-consume inside the diary.
……
Time gradually moves into November, and the weather starts to cool.
A week after taking on the task of rehearsing the play, Neville has adapted to Marietta’s slow and weak work style, making appropriate changes, and soon there is substantial progress.
Preparing the script and recruiting personnel are carried out separately.
Neville takes the initiative to handle preparing the script, often finding opportunities in his spare time after classes to consult Nearly Headless Nick. This ghost has performed in hundreds of shows at Hogwarts. One has to admit, he is professional. In a week, he convinces Neville to rehearse an original script, a great play that shocks the entire school’s teachers and students.
Collect real events for adaptation, incorporating pantomime, play, and opera styles. It sounds impressive.
Marietta’s main task is recruitment. Such a large drama group can’t have just two people. Roommate Cho Chang and several familiar classmates become the first batch of members, but that’s not enough. On the prefect’s suggestion, they post a recruitment notice on the notice board.
「Professor Levent plans to restart the Drama Club. Those interested in joining please contact Ravenclaw Marietta Edgecombe.」
……
Lunchtime, Great Hall.
Two little partners are discussing Hagrid’s matter. Ron has a roasted chicken leg in his mouth, quietly sneaks to George and Fred’s side, and while they are fooling around, swipes two porcelain plates containing the limited-supply fruit pudding.
The school kitchen’s food is made by house-elves, prepared in advance according to teachers’ and students’ needs. Main dishes like steak and bread are plentiful, but desserts are limited supply.
Until Ron tiptoes back to his seat, George and Fred are still fooling around, completely unaware.
Next to them is the Hufflepuff long table. Seamus and a few others are on good terms with them and chat chirpily during meals. Besides Justin and Hannah, there is the smug Ernie Macmillan, who always pesters Ginny to chat.
But Ron doesn’t hear Ernie’s voice today. Maybe he ate too fast and choked his way to the Hospital Wing.
He hides the two fruit puddings well and continues enjoying his roasted chicken leg.
Several Hufflepuffs come from behind, some naturally sitting next to Justin. The smug Ernie is back, muttering complaints to his friends: “I don’t know what Professor Levent was thinking, entrusting such an important matter to Edgecombe.”
Justin asks curiously: “What’s wrong?”
“They posted the recruitment notice themselves. We went to Edgecombe to sign up, but she hemmed and hawed, never clarifying the process.”
“And then? How was it resolved?”
Ernie purses his lips: “Cho Chang saw she was about to cry and told us to come back and prepare application forms. Interviews will be held in the Muggle Studies Classroom on Friday afternoon.”
Ron grins darkly to himself laughing. Smug Ernie deserves a setback. Who told him to always pester Ginny.
Justin asks further: “So are you still joining?”
“Of course we’re joining. Why not?”
Seamus immediately becomes curious. He, Dean, and Justin are active students. Wizard Chess associations, Gobstones Club, and even Colin’s newly established Harry Potter fan club—all kinds of organizations have the three of them. They aren’t that interested in the Drama Club and don’t understand why Ernie is so eager.
He turns his head and asks: “Do you like drama? I never noticed before.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why are you rushing to join?”
Ernie lifts his chin and snorts disdainfully: “You wouldn’t understand. Who is the Drama Club’s supervising professor?”
“The notice says Professor Levent, right…” Hannah next to him looks puzzled. “What’s that got to do with it?”
“Have you heard of Professor Levent’s Magic Mirror Club?”
Several people around show thoughtful expressions. Ron’s mind quickly flashes through a few thoughts. Justin reacts soon and exclaims in surprise: “You mean the Drama Club won’t just perform in school but will also appear nationwide through projection mirrors!”
“Oh!”
The onlookers suddenly realize and exclaim in admiration. Now everyone is interested.
While savoring the fruit pudding swiped from his brothers, Ron mentally calculates, planning to fill out an application form when he gets back.
After swallowing two mouthfuls of pudding, he suddenly widens his eyes, turns around, and quickly pats Harry’s shoulder.
Harry and Hermione turn to look at him, puzzled.
Ron is anxious inside. He opens his mouth and barks like a dog: woof woof woof.
……
In just a few days, the news of the Drama Club restarting becomes the hottest topic at school. Students spread it by word of mouth: the Drama Club is a stage set up by Professor Levent, not just for school teachers and students, but for wizards nationwide and even worldwide.
Whether as an actor or in other roles, one could become famous in the wizarding world, just like Harry and them last year.
Marietta and Neville are two lucky guys, but their abilities are clearly insufficient. Clumsy and slow, they walk and talk sluggishly and can only do inconspicuous work. Everyone witnessed the recruitment process, and the scriptwriting is also just being fooled by the ghost.
Many little wizards hold expectations, waiting for capable people like them to enter the Drama Club, be noticed by Professor Levent, and soon appear on projection mirrors.
Marietta actually knows what these people are thinking. She feels no anger or unease; she even thinks it’s good. Best if classmates with interest and ability take over, so she can follow their directions and do simple work that doesn’t require thinking.
That’s how her first fourteen years of life have been. When her mother told her to study, she studied. When her mother told her to learn etiquette, she learned etiquette. Her mother didn’t like brightly colored clothes, so her style is steady and dignified.
That’s all fine. Parents wouldn’t harm her.
After entering Hogwarts, school life became even easier. Everyone wears similar school uniforms, roommates and classmates take similar classes and practice similar magic. She just does the same as Cho Chang and the others.
That’s fine too. Cho Chang has excellent grades and a kind, gentle personality. She wouldn’t harm her.
Quidditch is out; most classmates aren’t Quidditch players.
Drama Club is out too; most classmates aren’t selected leaders.
Marietta exhales deeply, holding a thick stack of application forms, and knocks on the office door: “Professor Levent, I’m here to report on the drama rehearsal progress.”
“Please come in.” A calm voice comes from inside.
Marietta pushes open the door, walks in holding the application forms, and sees Professor Levent buried in grading theses: black hair and black eyes, upright posture, white shirt with a brown vest outside, looking young and handsome.
If only he didn’t make things difficult.
Melvin looks up and smiles lightly: “The timid feeling on you has faded now. Giving you pressure was right. With something weighing on you, staying in place makes it hard to breathe; only moving forward brings relief.
“When you can move forward without others urging you, without being swayed by others’ will, that’s when you’ve truly grown.”
Marietta doesn’t know how to respond. She doesn’t sit, places the application forms reservedly on the desk, and slowly pushes them over: “Professor, these are people applying to join the drama group, and later the Drama Club. See whom to accept and whom to eliminate.”
Melvin puts the quill into the ink bottle and shakes his head gently: “I appointed you as the person in charge. These matters should be fully handled by you. I only want progress updates on Wednesdays, without any interference.”
Marietta is stunned: “But Professor… I…”
Melvin changes the topic: “Do you know why your mother made a deal with me?”
Marietta shakes her head. She wrote home asking, but her mother’s reply was vague.
“In the entire Ministry of Magic, the Department of Magical Transportation is just at the bottom, not valued at all, far inferior to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Department of International Magical Cooperation…”
Melvin lowers his head to gather the fourth-year theses, not grading with a pen, just neatening them: “Your mother is just a mid-level official, unwilling to ingratiate or network. The Edgecombe family has no influence, so your mother must strive for perfection in her work to earn a tiny merit.”
Marietta stands frozen in place, silently listening to the professor’s judgment.
“Barring surprises, before you graduate, she won’t reach department head. Enduring decades of hardship, it’s uncertain if she’ll even get a seat in the Wizengamot.” Melvin casually flips through a few application forms, without intending to examine them closely. “When I proposed the deal to her, I promised wealth, position, and power, but she didn’t agree.”
“……”
Marietta is silent.
Her mother is like that, strictly following certain rules in work or life, with standards almost harsh. She has grown accustomed to her mother’s character and habits, trying not to violate the rules she sets, following her guidance.
No need to think, no need to agonize.
“Until I mentioned your name.”
Melvin gazes at this fairly pretty witch: “I told her she brought her work habits into family life, her domineering style suppressing your personality, turning you into what you are today. Then she agreed to my deal. Wealth and power don’t matter; she only hopes I can help you grow normally.”
Marietta stands stunned in place, watching the professor push the application forms back to her.
“The process of rebuilding the Drama Club is also the process of reshaping you. This is not only my idea but also your mother’s expectation.”
“……”
Marietta stands at the desk for a long time, then comes to her senses. Seeing the professor still grading the fourth-year theses, she silently takes back the application forms and quietly leaves.
……
In the blink of an eye, it’s the weekend again, Muggle Studies Office.
Melvin is reviewing the tutoring class theses. Harry and Hermione swapped arguments, trying to argue combat in each other’s style. The thesis content, combined with their expressions, is particularly amusing.
Harry’s expression is numb. A fourteen-inch thesis. Within limits, he tried to enlarge the handwriting, but still crammed in nearly ten duelling cases. Not even mentioning combat style analysis, just the copying work nearly gave him a hand cramp.
Hermione’s little face is aggrieved. Three inches of length, no case analysis, no material references. For logical flow and complete structure, she had to delete most content. This feeling is extremely uncomfortable.
“We’ll talk about the theses later.” Melvin casually sets the theses aside. “How’s the investigation into Hagrid going?”
Hermione’s gaze still sticks to the theses, reluctant.
“Don’t mention it! Hagrid now avoids us on sight. Professor Flitwick says he’s quit drinking.” Harry mutters softly. “We asked Moaning Myrtle about the murder in the bathroom. She only said she saw two yellow lantern-like eyes, then lost consciousness. We tried to press further and nearly got drenched by toilet water.”
He shows a lingering fear expression.
Hermione adds: “I found Tom Riddle’s Special Contribution Trophy in the display of awards. No other clues. He completely disappeared after graduation.”
She purses her lips, quietly observing the professor’s expression.
She still suspects that moving picture is inextricably linked to Professor Levent.
