"Object Spirit-Infusion" and "Curse Grafting."
These were two extremely vicious ancient Dark Arts that had long been classified as top-tier forbidden spells by the Ministry of Magic.
The former could grant a twisted "life" and "will" to inanimate objects, while the latter could graft an independent curse onto another object or creature like a vine.
After "borrowing" this book from the vault of Malfoy Manor, Hermione had spent a vast amount of time in the library's Restricted Section researching related materials.
Those ancient parchments warned descendants in just a few words that the creators of such magic were ultimately consumed by their own creations, dying miserable deaths.
But Hermione had Lia!
As soon as a curse backfired, Lia would just open her mouth and swallow it.
Backfire?
What backfire?
I don't know anything about it, go talk to my Lia!
If Tom Riddle could harness these powers, she could learn them too.
"Lia, I need a bit of your'scent,'" Hermione said softly.
Without hesitation, Lia extended her fair arm, exposing her snow-white wrist to the air.
She tilted her head up and looked at Hermione, her gaze full of trust.
Hermione took out the obsidian dagger she had obtained from Malfoy Manor.
The dagger thirsted for blood; guided by Hermione's mental energy, the blade let out a low, pleasant hum.
She didn't cut Lia's skin.
Hermione simply used the sharp tip of the blade to press lightly against Lia's wrist, leaving a shallow indentation.
The unique aura and infinitesimal magic power attached to Lia's [Danger Intuition] and [Eye of Truth] had already rubbed off onto it.
To a curse that hungered for life, this trace of aura was like the brightest lighthouse in the darkness.
Hermione turned the dagger toward that opal necklace.
She didn't chant an incantation; she simply immersed her own magic, tracing the rune paths recorded in the skin-bound book over and over again in her mental world.
It was a task of extreme precision.
Fine beads of sweat broke out on her forehead.
Under the constraint of her powerful mental energy, the obsidian dagger reluctantly transferred the "scent" it had just acquired to the opal necklace.
The light on the necklace flickered.
The eerie green curse power seemed to have gained a sense of smell, greedily beginning to absorb the trace of aura belonging to Lia.
That wasn't enough.
Hermione closed her eyes, her mental focus reaching its peak.
The face of Draco Malfoy surfaced in her mind—his pale face written with fear and anxiety.
She used her magic to forcibly brand the image of this "fear" into the core of the necklace's curse.
"Go."
Hermione muttered in her heart.
"Find the person who fears you the most."
"Let him feel true despair."
Buzz—
The opal necklace vibrated violently, emitting a pulsation similar to a biological heartbeat.
The light on its surface became even more sinister, as if it were a throbbing organ.
It had come to life.
Like a startled venomous snake, the necklace jerked back, and the curse power upon it instantly became frantic.
It sprang from Hermione's bed, hovering in mid-air, assuming an aggressive posture toward Lia.
It had already taken Lia's aura as a source of "nourishment," yet it instinctively feared this "natural enemy" who could devour all curses.
"It doesn't seem to like me," Lia tilted her head, her cat ears twitching.
"It only needs to like its new master."
Hermione stood up.
Using her magic wand, she carefully placed the necklace into a lead box reinforced with multiple containment charms.
"Alright, that's done," Hermione stretched her limbs, "Now it's time for the real business."
"Real business?" Lia was confused, "Wasn't this the real—"
Before she could finish, she saw Hermione skillfully sanitizing her hands.
Then she brought out the familiar blindfold, earplugs, and various devices that spelled trouble for Lia.
Her breathing grew uncontrollably heavy.
She obediently went to the bathroom... Over the next few days, Hogwarts appeared calm on the surface.
Harry and Ron remained curious about Hermione and Lia's secret.
However, Harry became increasingly obsessed; he carried the marauders map with him, staring at the name "Draco Malfoy" whenever he had a spare moment.
He watched the dot wander through the Castle, spending most of its time in that empty corridor on the seventh floor, or in Myrtle's bathroom.
"He's gone there again!" Harry tapped the map irritably with his finger, "He's definitely plotting something!"
Ron, who was laboring over his Potion Class essay, didn't even look up as he spoke: "Didn't Hermione say? Just monitor, don't act. There's nothing we can do."
"But Dumbledore doesn't believe me! Slughorn doesn't believe me either! Now even you guys..." Harry stopped halfway and swallowed his words.
He didn't want to argue anymore.
The feeling of being shut out by his closest friends made his heart race with anxiety.
Hermione also rarely appeared in the common room these days.
She was always with Lia, diving into the library or staying in the Room of Requirement for the entire afternoon.
No one knew what she was doing.
Harry only knew that every time Hermione came out of the Room of Requirement, her face was a bit pale, but her eyes shone with an alarming brightness.
And today was the day Hermione had chosen for the "stage curtains to rise."
She didn't just drop the lead box on Draco's usual path; that would be too deliberate, too easy for a Wizard of Snape's level to spot the flaw.
She chose a more roundabout method.
She arrived at the door of Slughorn's office.
"Professor," Hermione knocked on the door, a standard good-student smile on her face.
"Regarding the accident that happened in your office last time, I've consulted some ancient documents. Perhaps I can help you find the culprit behind the poisoning."
Slughorn opened the door; seeing Hermione, and especially the kitten-like, well-behaved Lia behind her, his face immediately squeezed into a smile that looked worse than crying.
"Oh... it's Miss Granger, and Miss Lia. Please come in, come in."
His legs felt weak just seeing this duo now.
One crushed him with knowledge, and the other challenged the limits of his understanding with unknown magic.
Hermione walked into the office and handed over a roll of parchment.
"I discovered a rare 'Remote Sensing Curse' that allows the poisoner to activate the poison from a distance.
But this curse resonates with the caster's magic power.
If there are other objects in the Castle tainted with the caster's intense emotions—such as fear or anger—they might be triggered, thereby exposing the caster's location."
Slughorn listened in a daze, but he caught the main point: "You mean... we can find out who did it?"
"It's only a possibility," Hermione said modestly. "It requires a catalyst.
A cursed object also tainted with strong negative emotions to act as a 'detector.'"
As she spoke, she seemingly casually placed the lead box on Slughorn's desk, which was piled high with various gifts.
"This is an imitation I found in the appendix of an ancient book; it's said to have a weak resonance with malice.
Of course, its effect is poor and it's almost useless. I just brought it for your reference."
Hermione emphasized the words "imitation" and "useless" heavily.
Slughorn's eyes lit up immediately.
He was a vain collector, most interested in these niche, rare, seemingly useless but storied trinkets.
"Oh? This is truly... thank you so much, Miss Granger!" He carefully cradled the lead box as if it were some priceless treasure. "You really are a genius!"
"It's my honor to be of help, Professor," Hermione smiled. "We won't disturb you any longer."
With that, she took Lia and turned to leave.
Walking out of the office, Lia pulled her hand. "Hermione, the scent of 'greed' on that fat man almost made me faint."
Hermione held her hand as they walked down the long corridor.
"Good. The bait has been set."
Slughorn would definitely treat this "interesting imitation" as his newest collection, placing it in the most prominent spot in his office to show off to others.
And Draco Malfoy, as a student Slughorn once tried to recruit, would definitely visit—or be forced to visit—the Potion Professor again.
When the thick, inescapable "fear" on Draco encountered a "living" curse specifically seeking fear... Hermione stopped and looked out the window.
The sky was gloomy; a heavy rain was approaching.
On the other side of the Castle, Moaning Myrtle floated out of the bathroom wall, her shrill voice echoing in the empty corridor.
"There's a boy crying in the corridor... he's crying so sadly..."
Harry Potter, who happened to be passing by, heard these words.
He almost instantly thought of the name that frequently appeared in this area on the marauders map.
Malfoy.
[Merry Christmas, everyone!]
[Click 'remind to update' and I'll send a Cat-girl to spend Christmas with you tonight!]
-------------------------
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!"