Horace Slughorn's hurried escape sparked a wave of invisible agitation at the party.
Although the guests didn't know what had happened, they all saw the Potion Professor's expression as if he had seen a ghost.
Consequently, the gazes directed at Hermione and Lia involuntarily carried a hint of awe and scrutiny.
No one dared to approach them for conversation easily anymore.
This was exactly what Hermione wanted.
She took Lia, grabbed two glasses of pumpkin juice from a waiter's tray, and walked to a relatively quiet corner, watching this gaudy farce coldly like two true bystanders.
Harry and Ron were on the other side, surrounded by a group of twittering girls, looking completely helpless.
"His scent is very conflicted," Lia suddenly spoke, her small nose wrinkling slightly as if distinguishing some unpleasant smell.
"Who?" Hermione followed her gaze.
"Him." Lia's fingertip traced the wall of the glass, her gaze locked onto a figure weaving through the crowd like a ghost.
Severus Snape.
He seemed to be the only person at the party out of place with the joyful atmosphere, his face somber as if everyone owed him several hundred Galleons.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
That old book full of notes that Harry treated as a treasure.
half-blood prince.
She looked at Snape's back; a plan that had long since taken shape in her mind became completely clear at this moment.
"Lia," Hermione whispered, "let's go say hello to Professor Snape."
Just then, as if by fate's arrangement, Snape turned around, preparing to leave the party through a passage not far from them.
Lia didn't hesitate for a moment.
She stepped forward, seemingly casual but with a clear objective.
One step, two steps.
At the moment she brushed past Snape, she gave a slight tilt of her body, as if accidentally bumped by someone passing by.
"Oops."
She let out a soft cry, the pumpkin juice in her hand swaying slightly, seemingly about to spill onto Snape's perpetually spotless black robes.
But with an incredible twist of her wrist, the cup stabilized.
The entire movement was smooth and fluid, like a dance rehearsed countless times.
Snape's footsteps stopped.
He looked down, staring with those emotionless eyes at the girl who had "accidentally" bumped into him.
Lia looked up, her pure blue eyes, capable of washing away all sin, staring straight into the depths of Snape's eyes.
Her face wore a perfectly measured look of apology.
"Sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to."
Snape didn't speak, only looking at her coldly, as if waiting for her to move aside.
Lia, however, acted as if she didn't understand his expression and instead gave a sweet smile.
"Professor Snape," her voice wasn't loud, but exceptionally clear, "Hermione asked me to say hello to you for her."
Snape's eyebrow twitched.
"She said," Lia's tone remained innocent, every word articulated with absolute clarity, "thank you very much, 'half-blood prince,' for your 'generous guidance' to Harry in Potions."
"half-blood prince".
His footsteps froze instantly.
His entire being seemed as if he had been hit by a Petrificus Totalus, paralyzed on the spot.
Standing not far away, Hermione clearly saw astonishment appear on Snape's eternally frozen face.
His lips were pressed tightly into a line, and his jawline was tense.
He frowned as he looked at Lia.
In the end, Snape didn't say a word.
He turned around abruptly, his long black robes cutting an angry arc through the air.
He no longer left via his intended route, but instead strode through the crowd directly toward the door.
A crucial chess piece had begun to waver.
Hermione walked to Lia's side and naturally took her hand.
"Let's go," Hermione said softly. "We're going back."
The clamor of the party was left far behind.
Hermione held Lia's hand as they walked down the empty, quiet corridor. The torches on the Castle walls cast flickering shadows, stretching their shadows long.
The two depth charges Lia had just dropped—"Horcrux" and "half-blood prince"—were still sending shockwaves through Hermione's heart.
Slughorn's terror, Snape's stiffness.
Everything was proceeding according to her script.
The pieces were in place, waiting only for the right moment to be pushed toward their predetermined end.
Time slipped away through regular classes, library study sessions, and private training with Lia.
Harry and Ron still took turns staring at the marauders map every day, occasionally sharing their findings with Hermione.
However, Hermione devoted more energy to researching the Dark Arts items brought back from Malfoy Manor.
Until March 1st, the morning of Ron's birthday.
"Happy Birthday, Ron!" Harry pushed a pile of presents in front of Ron.
The Gryffindor boys' dormitory was a mess, but the atmosphere was lively.
A bleary-eyed Ron unwrapped his gifts: a maroon sweater from Mrs. Weasley, prank toys from the twins, and a box of high-end Quidditch maintenance tools from Hermione.
"Wow, Hermione is so generous!" Ron held up the box of shiny tools, winking at Harry.
Harry laughed along.
Ron didn't notice this; he excitedly unwrapped the last package, a box of chocolates that looked very exquisite.
"Who sent this?" He picked one up and sniffed it curiously.
"Probably Romilda Vane," Harry answered casually. "She wanted to give them to me, but I didn't want them."
"Oh, then I won't be polite!" Ron laughed and stuffed a whole piece of chocolate into his mouth.
A few minutes later, when Hermione and Lia saw Harry supporting a.
Dazed-eyed.
Silly-grinning.
Ron, who kept mumbling "Romilda" under his breath.
Her brow immediately furrowed into a knot.
"Amortentia." Hermione judged with just one glance.
Lia's small nose sniffed the air, and she took a step back in disgust.
"The scent... is so stupid."
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