Chapter 98: Farewell
The first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the dusty window, illuminating the cramped attic room of The Burrow.
Tamara opened her eyes.
Almost the instant she woke, the vigilance and coldness that belonged to the Dark Lord returned to her body. The image of the understanding older sister she had feigned last night to lure out the diary vanished without a trace.
She turned her head and glanced at Ginny, who was sleeping defenselessly on the bed beside her.
The little red-haired girl was clutching the corner of her quilt, a clear thread of drool hanging from the corner of her mouth as she mumbled the name "Harry" in her sleep.
"Fool."
Tamara mouthed the word silently, her eyes filled only with chilling indifference.
She threw back the covers, her movements light and soundless.
Spending one night in this house filled with poverty, crowding, and so called warmth had already reached the limit of her endurance. Right now, she only wanted to return to the shabby but perfectly quiet Wools Orphanage and scrub herself from head to toe with the strongest Scouring Charm available, washing away every trace of this impoverished atmosphere.
Tamara dressed quickly. Before leaving, she took one last look at the diary still tucked beneath Ginny's pillow.
It was a pity she could not take it with her, but as long as the seed had been planted, the harvest was only a matter of time.
Tamara silently descended the winding, creaking wooden staircase.
The kitchen was quiet.
Only the clock hanging on the wall ticked rhythmically, most of its hands still pointing toward sleep.
Tamara walked to the fireplace and reached for the Floo powder.
As long as she threw it into the fire and spoke the name of the old fireplace in Diagon Alley, she could escape this suffocating place completely.
However.
[Ding! Detected that the host is attempting to leave without saying goodbye.]
[Warning: As the host of the Virtue System, leaving without saying goodbye after receiving warm hospitality from your hosts is extremely rude and arrogant. This does not conform to the basic qualities of a perfect guest.]
[Mission: Please give a formal and polite farewell to the hostess, Molly Weasley, and express your gratitude.]
[Reward: Love +1]
[Penalty: Brag about your wonderful time at The Burrow in the Slytherin common room.]
Tamara's hand froze in midair, still clutching the Floo powder.
She could almost hear her molars grinding together.
Just then.
"Oh! Dear?"
A surprised exclamation came from behind her.
Tamara spun around, her wand nearly sliding from her sleeve into her palm.
Molly Weasley stood there in a large old dressing gown, holding a frying pan. She had clearly woken early to prepare breakfast for the whole family.
She looked at Tamara in surprise, then at the trunk in her hand, and finally at the fireplace.
"Merlin, where are you going? It's only half past five!"
Molly lowered her voice, evidently afraid of waking the children upstairs.
"Breakfast isn't ready yet. I even made something especially for you..."
Tamara took a deep breath.
Since she could not leave, she could only act.
The cold expression on her face vanished the moment she turned around, replaced by apology, maturity, and even a trace of vulnerability. It was the look of a child who did not want to trouble anyone.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley."
Tamara lowered her eyes, her voice soft and polite.
"I must leave. There are still matters at the orphanage, and my luggage is there."
"But you could at least have breakfast before you go! We could send you..."
"No, there's no need."
Tamara shook her head, then lifted her dark eyes to look at Molly with absolute sincerity.
"You've already taken such good care of me. Last night... was the most peaceful sleep I've had in years."
The words were false to the core, but to Molly's ears, they sounded heartbreaking.
"I can't cause you any more trouble." Tamara straightened her back slightly, showing a strength that seemed far beyond her age. "I have hands and feet. I'm used to taking care of myself. Besides, today is the first day back, and you have such a large family to look after. It will be very busy here."
She paused, then added softly, "I also want to go back early and prepare quietly by myself."
Molly froze.
She looked at the pale, thin girl before her, stubbornly refusing to become a burden despite everything.
What a sensible child.
With such a pitiful background, she was still so independent and considerate of others.
Compared with her own twins, who spent every day causing trouble, Tamara was simply an angel.
"Oh, dear..."
Molly's eyes instantly reddened.
She put down the frying pan, walked over, and pulled Tamara into a hug that was almost suffocating.
"You really are a strong, good child. You must take care of yourself. If you need anything at school, you must tell us, or tell Ron and Ginny, do you hear me?"
"...I understand. Thank you."
Tamara stood stiffly in Molly's warm embrace, feeling as if her ribs were lodging a formal complaint.
After finally managing to free herself, Molly insisted on stuffing a large bag of freshly toasted corned beef sandwiches and several apples into her hands.
"Eat these on the way. Don't go hungry."
"Alright. Goodbye, Mrs. Weasley."
[Ding! Mission complete. Reward: Love +1]
[Current Love: 21]
The moment the system's voice faded, Tamara practically fled. She grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace.
As green flames roared up, she cast one final glance at The Burrow, this house filled with stupidity and warmth. A cold smile of relief curled at her lips.
"Never again."
...
10:50 AM.
King's Cross Station.
While the Weasley family rushed through the station in chaos, desperately trying to make it on time with their trolleys, Tamara was already sitting comfortably inside a private compartment on the Hogwarts Express, dressed in pristine Slytherin robes.
The compartment was filled with the faint aroma of black tea.
Draco Malfoy sat opposite her, with Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle nearby.
The way they looked at Tamara was as if they were gazing at a hero who had returned in triumph from behind enemy lines.
"So..." Draco lowered his voice, his face full of admiration. "What did you discover in that... blood traitor den? Were they plotting some conspiracy against Slytherin?"
Tamara elegantly picked up her teacup and gently blew across the steam.
Her gaze drifted idly over the bustling platform outside the window.
"Conspiracy?"
She gave a light laugh, her tone carrying undisguised contempt.
"Draco, you think too highly of them."
"That place contains nothing but overflowing, nauseating sympathy and worthless passion."
She set down the teacup. Her black eyes, like two bottomless pools of stagnant water, fixed on Draco.
"They believe that love and warmth are the weapons they should be proud of."
"But in reality..."
Tamara leaned forward slightly, her voice low and enticing.
"That is merely charity from the strong to the weak, yet the weak treat it as the oxygen they need to survive. Once that supply is cut off, they suffocate and die."
"This is Gryffindor's fatal weakness. They are addicted to that cheap sense of huddling together for warmth. Because they fear loneliness, they can only gather together like a frightened flock of sheep."
Draco listened, utterly enthralled.
Though he did not fully understand, he felt these words were simply too logical. Too profound.
They were far more sophisticated than the bureaucratic nonsense his father usually spouted.
He immediately pulled out a notebook and wrote down those words of wisdom, preparing to use them to mock Potter later.
Meanwhile, at King's Cross Station, between Platforms Nine and Ten.
Harry and Ron stood before the solid barrier wall, pushing their trolleys and covered in sweat.
They had just watched the Weasleys pass through.
But when they tried to follow, the trolley slammed heavily into the wall with a loud crash.
"What's going on?" Ron rubbed his sore shoulder, panicked. "The wall's sealed!"
"We're going to be late!"
The surrounding Muggles began casting strange looks at them, and a station guard frowned as he started walking over.
In the past, Harry might have stood there helplessly, waiting for Mr. Weasley to come back for them, or trying to find some way to contact the school.
But at this moment, when it felt as if the world had shut him out, every word the black-haired girl had said in the garden last night suddenly echoed through his mind.
Her voice was cold, yet it rang out like thunder.
"Living by relying on the kindness of others is essentially begging."
"A true sense of belonging is never something obtained through the charity of others."
Harry looked at the cold wall, his fists slowly tightening.
Wait longer?
Wait for the Weasleys to come back and save them?
Wait for Dumbledore to send someone to fetch them?
Stand there like a helpless child, begging for an adult's help?
No.
Harry said it silently in his heart.
He thought of Tamara's ambitious black eyes.
If it were her, she would never wait here.
She had said that the strong did not wait for charity.
Since the rules had blocked the path, then break the rules.
Since this wall would not let him through, he would find another way.
An unprecedented rebellious heat surged through Harry's chest.
He abruptly turned to Ron, his green eyes burning with a light Ron had never seen before.
"Ron," Harry said, his voice frighteningly firm, "we can't just stand here like idiots."
"That's what the weak do."
Ron froze for a moment.
"Then... then what do we do? The train's about to leave!"
Harry looked toward the pale blue Ford Anglia in the car park.
"The car."
Harry pointed in that direction.
"We fly there."
...
Ten minutes later.
The Hogwarts Express had already left London and was travelling through the skies over the Scottish Highlands.
In the Slytherin compartment, Pansy was peeling grapes for Tamara.
Suddenly, a commotion broke out in the corridor.
"Good heavens! Look at the sky!"
"Is that... a car?"
Draco frowned, set down his quill, and leaned toward the window.
The next second, his jaw nearly dropped.
"Merlin's beard! That's the Weasleys' junk car!"
Draco shouted in excitement.
"No wonder it was so quiet today. They're actually driving a car to chase the train? Are they insane? They'll definitely be expelled for this!"
Tamara turned her head slightly. Her gaze passed through the glass window and landed on the Ford car wobbling through the clouds, flickering in and out of visibility.
She could see the boy with glasses in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel tightly, his face wearing an expression that was terrified yet inexplicably exhilarated.
Tamara was stunned for a second.
Then, on her face, which always maintained an elegant mask, a rare look of speechlessness appeared.
She had indeed taught Harry to break the rules, to control his destiny, and to think like a strong person.
But she had meant using methods, strategy, and power to seize a high position in this cruel world.
Not driving a Muggle junk car that could fall apart at any moment and violating the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy thousands of feet in the air.
Did this savior have nothing but fluxweed in his head?
"...Fool."
Tamara withdrew her gaze and picked up her teacup again, feeling as if her words had been wasted on a dog.
"What's wrong, Tamara?" Pansy asked curiously. "Don't you think it's funny?"
"Funny?"
Tamara gave a cold snort, her tone filled with the contempt of someone disappointed by another's lack of potential.
"I originally thought he had finally learned to use his brain to break the rules."
"But I overestimated him."
She looked at the savior struggling through the clouds outside and delivered her final verdict.
"Gryffindor's so called courage is nothing but reckless stupidity and the desire to perform, as if they cannot wait to show the whole world how foolish they are."
"Just wait and see."
Tamara took an elegant sip of tea.
"Rather than being expelled, they'd better pray they make it back to school alive."
.....
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