In Lia's blue eyes, the reflection of the locket exuding an ominous aura shimmered.
It's edible.
"Lia..." Hermione's heart tightened, her voice dry as she asked, "Are you going to directly eat the soul inside again?"
Sirius and Lupin's expressions changed instantly.
Devour a piece of a soul?
What kind of concept was that?
A living being, devouring a soul fragment carrying the utmost evil and madness?
This was ten thousand times crazier than summoning Fiendfyre to burn everything!
If Fiendfyre went out of control, it only burned matter; but the fusion and contamination of souls would be an irreversible, eternal destruction!
"No!" Sirius was the first to object, stepping forward to pull Lia away, "It's too dangerous!"
To them, no matter how powerful Lia was, she was still a junior who needed protection.
That was all.
However, Lia just tilted her head. Her sky-blue pupils held no fear, only pure assessment.
The hard shell can't be eaten, but the filling inside is edible.
It's like cracking a nut that's too hard; sucking out the kernel is always more convenient.
She had indeed promised Hermione to treat this eighth life as her only one.
Therefore, she needed confirmation.
Lia's gaze passed over Sirius, who was blocking her path, and landed on her decision-maker in the room.
Hermione.
If Hermione wanted her to eat it, she would eat it.
Hermione's chest heaved violently. Looking into Lia's pure, dependent eyes, countless thoughts flashed through her mind.
Dangerous? Of course it was dangerous.
But she remembered how calmly Lia had analyzed Lord Voldemort's weaknesses in the Headmaster's Office.
She remembered how confidently Lia had declared that, given time, she could also defeat that Dark Lord.
More importantly, Hermione remembered back in their first year, in that dark underground classroom, when Lia was still so weak, she had nonetheless devoured the more complete fragment of Lord Voldemort's soul from the back of Quirrell's head.
The Lia of today was far stronger than she was back then.
And how could this soul fragment, dormant for decades, compare to the conscious, powerful piece of the main soul from back then?
Hermione's gaze became resolute, all hesitation swept away.
"Eat it."
Hermione's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unyielding decisiveness.
Sirius wanted to say something, but Lupin placed a hand on his shoulder.
Lupin shook his head at him, gesturing for him to look at Hermione's expression.
It was one of complete trust and control.
Having received the order, Lia hesitated no longer.
She walked back to the locket.
This time, she didn't extend sharp claws, nor did she bend down.
She merely slightly parted her small mouth.
An invisible suction force, imperceptible to the naked eye, emanated from her mouth, enveloping the locket on the floor.
The next second, the heavy metal box began to tremble and jump violently!
It emitted a piercing shriek like nails on a chalkboard, a sound that resonated directly within one's soul!
A wisp of black smoke, dense to the extreme, was forcibly ripped from the seams of the locket!
The black smoke twisted and struggled frantically in mid-air, coalescing into a face contorted in pain and ferocity—it was the handsome yet sinister face of a young Tom Riddle!
He opened his mouth as if issuing a silent roar, every feature resisting that irresistible suction force.
But it was all in vain.
The mass of black smoke was stretched into an increasingly thin black thread, like ink being sucked up through a straw, and finally completely disappeared into Lia's mouth.
The entire process took no more than three seconds.
As the last wisp of black smoke vanished, the chilling aura in the room also dissipated.
Lia smacked her lips, a clear look of distaste appearing on her delicate little face, as if she had just finished an unappetizing appetizer.
She looked up at Hermione, stuck out her pink tongue to lick her lips, and bared her little fangs to complain unceremoniously:
"It tasted awful, Hermione."
"Like Dumbledore's cavities."
"I told you that's not how metaphors are used!" Hermione rushed forward in a flash, torn between laughter and tears, covering Lia's mouth, and lectured her in a low voice by her ear, "Go read more useful books when we get back! Especially on rhetoric!"
At that moment, a crisp 'click' sounded from the locket on the floor.
It had opened by itself.
The nauseating aura of evil that had clung to it was now completely gone.
It was no longer an indestructible Horcrux.
It was just an ordinary, ancient piece of jewelry inlaid with an emerald.
Sirius stepped forward. Without even using his wand, he simply raised his foot and gave the glass face of the locket a gentle stamp.
"Crack!"
A crisp shattering sound rang out.
Lord Voldemort's second Horcrux was destroyed.
Everyone let out a long sigh of relief, their taut nerves finally able to relax.
Just then, an ill-timed, confused voice sounded.
"Doesn't Dumbledore insist on drinking teeth-strengthening Potion every day?" Ron scratched his red hair, "How could he still have cavities?"
"Kid, you know," Sirius walked over to him and patted his shoulder, looking helpless, "When it comes to that old man's obsession with sweets, even if you shoved Snape down his throat to brew Potions for him daily, it wouldn't stop him from sneaking Lemon Sherbets."
"Alright, friends," Lupin said with a smile, clapping his hands twice, "I think what we need most now is rest."
Everyone agreed. They had experienced too much in the past two days; their mental exhaustion far exceeded the physical.
The defenses at 12 Grimmauld Place had been breached, the hall and kitchen were in disarray, clearly making it uninhabitable.
In the end, everyone decided to temporarily gather at the Weasley's home, The Burrow.
Under the warm lights of The Burrow, only after Hermione repeatedly confirmed that Lia showed no signs of being affected by the soul fragment did she truly relax.
Soothed by Mrs. Molly's worried nagging and delicious pumpkin pies, everyone spent two rare, peaceful days.
When they returned to Hogwarts via the floo network, carrying several pumpkin pies that Mrs. Molly had insisted they take, the first thing they faced was Professor McGonagall's fury.
"It seems I've been far too lenient with you!"
Professor McGonagall leaned her hands on the desk, her face filled with anger. Behind her iconic square-framed glasses, her gaze was sharp enough to pin someone to the wall.
"The leave you requested was not for this many days!"
Hermione and Lia stood side by side, heads bowed, obediently enduring the scolding.
Just as Hermione was about to open her mouth to explain, Lia beside her moved.
She pulled out half a still-warm pumpkin pie from somewhere, carefully wrapped in greased paper, and holding it with both hands, offered it forward ingratiatingly.
"Professor McGonagall," Lia looked up, her sky-blue eyes blinking, her voice soft and sweet as if soaked in honey, "I brought you pumpkin pie. I know you're the best, so please don't be angry with me and Hermione anymore, okay~"
The reprimand that Professor McGonagall was about to utter instantly caught in her throat.
Looking at Lia's innocent, harmless little face and those clear, bottomless blue eyes, she felt her stern expression being gently pawed by a fluffy little claw, and it instantly threatened to crumble.
"Ahem... I'm not angry with you," Professor McGonagall unconsciously softened her tone, clearing her throat, "I was just worried about your safety..."
"Please~"
Before Professor McGonagall could finish, Lia pushed her luck, taking a small step forward with the pumpkin pie still offered, her tail wagging expectantly behind her.
The light in those eyes was enough to melt the most stubborn tree spirits in the Forbidden Forest.
In the end, Professor McGonagall couldn't hold the line of her deputy headmistress's dignity. She let out a long sigh and reached out to take the pumpkin pie.
"Just this once."
"Yay! Professor McGonagall is the best!"
Lia immediately cheered, even boldly moving closer to hug Professor McGonagall's arm, affectionately rubbing her cheek against it twice.
Then, grabbing Hermione's hand, she turned and ran off quickly.
All that remained in the air was a crisp "Goodbye, Professor!" and a small greased-paper package smelling of butter.
Professor McGonagall looked at the pumpkin pie on the desk, shook her head helplessly, but couldn't help a slight upturn at the corner of her mouth.
"I knew she was acting."
Life at Hogwarts returned to superficial calm, but beneath the calm, undercurrents surged.
Only a few days after returning to the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione received a secret letter delivered by a shabby-looking owl from Knockturn Alley.
It was from Borgin.
The letter contained only a single scrawled line: He's almost succeeded.
Hermione burned the parchment to ashes over a candle flame.
It seemed that the two failed raids at the Department of Mysteries and Black Manor had made Lord Voldemort lose patience.
They had accelerated their progress targeting Hogwarts, or rather, targeting Dumbledore.
After all, as long as Dumbledore, that great mountain of the Wizarding World, still stood at Hogwarts, any action by Lord Voldemort would be hampered at every turn.
At the same time.
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk, fingers steepled. Behind his half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes were deep and calm.
The Phoenix Fawkes stood on his perch, preening his magnificent tail feathers.
He had already learned from Harry about everything Hermione and Lia had done after requesting leave—storming the Ministry, destroying a Horcrux, and cleansing Black Manor.
With his wisdom, it wasn't hard to guess that when one path was blocked, the enemy would choose another, more direct route.
The old man let out a long sigh, his voice tinged with a hint of weary resignation.
"Sigh..."
"So demanding of an old man..."
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[Kitty wishes you never have social practice homework!]
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