In the dormitory, the firelight from the fireplace painted the walls a warm orange-red.
Hermione was still rhythmically stroking Lia's back.
That docile purring became the best background noise for her thoughts.
Parvati and Lavender were still playing at the party in Hogsmeade; now was an absolute safe time belonging only to the two of them.
The comfortable cat-petting session ended, and the white ball of fur under the covers was already breathing evenly, having dizzily lost consciousness.
Hermione carefully withdrew her hand, confirming once more that Lia had fallen into a deep sleep, before the softness on her face slowly faded.
She took off the plain-looking beaded bracelet from her wrist.
With a light tap of her wand and a silent incantation, one bead glowed, and then a pile of objects shimmering with a dangerous light appeared out of thin air on the thick carpet without making a sound.
She had "borrowed" so many interesting things from the vault at Malfoy Manor.
Those Dark Arts antiques engraved with Ancient Runes and those heirlooms filled with familial malice were not just for collection.
This was a twisted obsidian dagger, still stained with long-dried blood of unknown origin, emitting a resentment that made the soul tremble.
This was an exquisitely crafted silver hourglass, in which flowed not sand, but a certain viscous black liquid shimmering with a ghostly light; with every flip, one could hear wails from the distant past.
And there was that magic book bound in human skin and locked tight with iron chains; even through the chains, Hermione could feel how insane and powerful the sealed knowledge within was.
Her fingertips brushed over these spoils one by one.
Hermione picked up the obsidian dagger; Lia's ability could "devour" curses, but devouring came at a price.
In any case, it was better not to let Lia "eat" these filthy things anymore.
If she could learn to utilize and control these Dark Arts items like Tom's memories...
...then Lia would have a much easier time.
She pointed the dagger at another gadget taken from Borgin and Burkes—a screaming brass top.
Hermione closed her eyes, her mental focus highly concentrated.
She was "feeling."
Feeling the malice that had resided on the dagger for centuries, feeling its "hunger" for cutting and blood.
Then, she used her own magic to guide this hunger.
No incantation.
A ghostly light flashed on the dagger.
The brass top on the carpet instantly split open without making any sound; its "scream," along with its physical form, was wiped away on a deeper level by an invisible blade.
Hermione opened her eyes, looking at the destruction she had caused, and calmly accepted the result.
This was not enough.
Her gaze fell upon an invitation on the bedside table.
The edges of the parchment were gilded with tacky gold lace, and on it was Professor Slughorn's flamboyant cursive, inviting her to his famous Christmas party.
In the past, Hermione would have kept a respectful distance from such purely social events.
But now, she looked at this invitation.
Slughorn... the man upon whom Dumbledore pinned high hopes, yet who remained tight-lipped about Lord Voldemort's darkest secrets.
An excellent breakthrough point.
Hermione put away all the Dark Arts items, and silence returned to the dormitory.
She walked to the bed and habitually hugged the familiar soft fragrance... On the night of the Christmas party.
Slughorn's office was decorated to be brilliantly radiant, with gold and red drapes hanging from the ceiling, and the room was packed with all sorts of people.
High-ranking officials from the Ministry of Magic, famous writers, and "elite students" hand-picked by Slughorn.
The air was filled with the sweet scent of mead, the aroma of food, and the loud laughter and chatter of people.
When Hermione walked into the room with Lia, the noisy waves of sound paused for a moment.
Everyone's gaze was drawn over.
Then they all looked away as if it were nothing unusual.
Every time on such occasions, Lia would be "meticulously crafted" by Hermione.
Only a certain old fellow's gaze was quite impolite.
Slughorn's eyes lit up when he saw Lia, his walrus-like mustache twitching with excitement as he strode through the crowd holding a wine glass.
"merlins beard! Hermione, my dear child, you are truly radiant tonight!"
He praised exaggeratedly, but his eyes never left Lia for a moment.
"Oh, and this... this little elf! You are simply the most brilliant gem at the banquet!"
"Good evening, Professor." Hermione smiled politely, quietly pulling Lia half a step behind her.
"Good evening, Professor." Lia followed Hermione's example, bowing slightly.
Her movements were impeccable, the most standard high-noble etiquette from Tom Riddle's memories.
This elegance, which stood in stark contrast to her innocent appearance, made the fervor in Slughorn's eyes grow even stronger.
"Oh, too charming, too charming!" He rubbed his hands together, trying to bypass Hermione, "My dear lady, you must try my special cranberry juice. I guarantee it is absolutely..."
He wanted to lead Lia away.
Just like every time in the past.
But this time, Lia didn't hide behind Hermione anymore.
She stepped out from behind Hermione on her own, picked up a glass of juice from a nearby waiter's tray, and gracefully raised the glass to Slughorn.
"Thank you, Professor."
Her voice was crisp and pleasant, like a bell.
Slughorn was stunned, then overjoyed.
He thought his enthusiasm had finally touched this shy little one.
"Oh, of course, of course! Hermione, I was just thinking of talking to Mr. Ogden about his recent legal amendments; you'll certainly be interested..."
He tried the same old trick, wanting to send Hermione away so he could "study" Lia alone.
Hermione was about to refuse.
But Lia suddenly tilted her head, her sky-blue eyes full of pure curiosity, like a child full of questions about the world.
She looked at Slughorn and, in the most innocent tone, asked a world-shaking question.
"Professor," she said softly, her voice not loud, yet it clearly reached Slughorn's ears.
"I heard from Hermione that you are the greatest Potion master of our time, a true genius."
Slughorn's chest puffed out even further.
"Then," Lia's tone remained innocent and romantic as she blinked, her long eyelashes like butterfly wings, "you must know what a 'Horcrux' is, right?"
"I've been... quite interested in this lately."
"Hor—crux—"
These two words, like two bolts of sickly green lightning, struck straight into the depths of Slughorn's soul.
The smile on his face shattered instantly.
Horcrux.
The darkest secret of his life.
This word was like a rusty key, violently thrusting open the cage of his memory and releasing that Tom Riddle—his most prized student, and also his greatest nightmare.
The smile was gone from Slughorn's face.
Large beads of cold sweat seeped from his bald forehead, sliding down his fat cheeks and soaking his flamboyant bow tie.
The hand holding his wine glass trembled violently as he looked at Lia in terror.
"I... I..." He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single complete word.
"Ah... that... I remember now!" He suddenly jolted, "Professor Flitwick... yes, Professor Flitwick has urgent business with me! Excuse me, excuse me!"
He dropped a sentence incoherently, not even caring for etiquette, and turned to leave.
Being too flustered, he bumped headlong into a House-elf carrying a tray, causing a series of clatters.
As if avoiding a Basilisk, he didn't look back as he squeezed into the crowd and fled in a panic.
The music of the party remained noisy.
"Hermione..." Lia gave Hermione a mock-seductive smile, "Was I scary just now?"
That look left Hermione speechless for a moment, and she reached out to pinch her ear.
"Oh no, my darling."
"You acted very well~"
-------------------------
If you enjoy this story, you can read 70+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
Webnovel will keep getting 1 new chapter every day but Patreon readers can stay far ahead.
Maybe it's not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
[email protected]/Greyhounds
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"