Chapter 169: Let's All Cross Dress
As soon as the words fell, the air seemed to freeze instantly.
"No! Dobby didn't! Dobby is a bad house elf! Dobby must punish himself!"
Dobby let out a desperate shriek. He spun around suddenly and began frantically smashing his bald head against a nearby iron pillar, producing a series of dull thuds.
But Lucius did not bother with the self punishing house elf at all.
This pure blood nobleman, always known for his elegance and decency, now had a livid face, even revealing a terrifying gloom and fury.
How could he not understand the meaning behind Tamara's words?
At a critical stage of his plan, his own house elf had actually gone behind his back and secretly run off to Hogwarts to find that damned Harry Potter.
This was simply the greatest betrayal and humiliation to the House of Malfoy.
If this girl had not pointed it out, he would have been kept in the dark by this lowly thing.
"Is that so..."
Lucius's breathing became heavy, and the hand holding his cane even trembled slightly.
He stared fixedly at Dobby, who was still hitting the wall, his voice cold as ice, as if squeezed through his teeth.
"This is truly... unexpected loyalty."
Watching Lucius's furious expression, as if he wanted to skin Dobby alive on the spot, Tamara enjoyed the farce she had orchestrated with satisfaction.
The Dark Lord never showed mercy to traitors.
Even if it was only a house elf.
Since it dared to go against its master's orders and tip off Potter, it had to pay a heavy price.
"Disloyal dogs are not worth keeping, Mr Malfoy."
Tamara withdrew her smile, her voice becoming soft yet carrying a hair raising pressure.
"It has not completely betrayed you today, but tomorrow, for the sake of its ridiculous justice, it will not hesitate to stab you in the back."
Tamara looked up, her abyssal black eyes peering meaningfully into Lucius's.
In that moment, Lucius Malfoy felt as if he were being watched by some terrifying predator.
His heart constricted suddenly, and he even had an absurd illusion.
The person standing before him was not a twelve year old girl at all, but the Dark Lord who had once made him kneel on the ground, not even daring to raise his head.
"What happens to traitors..."
Tamara leaned in slightly and whispered in a volume only the two of them could hear.
"I believe I do not need to... explain that to you, do I?"
These words were like a sharp thorn, accurately piercing the deepest fear in Lucius's heart.
The fate of those who betrayed the Dark Lord.
Those screams.
Those green lights.
Those tortures worse than death.
Lucius's hand trembled uncontrollably.
He stared at Tamara, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty, but he found that he could not utter a single word of rebuttal or questioning.
"Farewell, Mr Malfoy. Have a pleasant summer break, Draco."
Before Lucius could recover from that deep fear, Tamara had already regained her cold and noble posture.
She picked up her black leather suitcase and turned away without lingering, walking briskly toward the Muggle exit of Platform Nine and Three Quarters, leaving the Malfoy family and the still desperately wailing Dobby far behind.
She passed through the solid magical brick wall.
The polluted exhaust of London's streets, the noisy honking, and the grey sky unique to the Muggle world instantly rushed toward her.
Tamara frowned in disgust.
She did not stay at the station at all, but directly hailed a Muggle taxi and gave the address she had once sworn never to return to.
Half an hour later.
In a dilapidated old district of London, the grey building appeared in Tamara's sight.
Wool's Orphanage.
Even after decades, this place still gave off that nauseating smell.
Tamara, carrying her suitcase, stepped out of the car expressionlessly.
Just as she was about to push open the rusty iron gate, her gaze paused slightly.
In a corner by the orphanage's moss covered wall stood a striking woman.
She wore a well tailored but extremely conservative dark grey long dress and a vintage wide brimmed hat with a black veil that covered most of her face.
Although the figure was far too tall for a woman, that straight back and meticulous posture really did resemble a stern and rigid Muggle aunt.
Tamara stopped and raised an eyebrow at this disguise, which was technically flawless yet still felt incredibly discordant to her.
"It seems your disguise skills are quite a bit higher than your mastery of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Tamara walked up to the woman and spoke coldly in a tone devoid of any warmth.
Hearing that chillingly familiar voice, Quirinus Quirrell, or rather, the current Aunt Quirina, shuddered violently.
Before the Dark Lord, he no longer needed to feign that ridiculous stutter.
But in his intentionally thinned voice, there was still a tremor that came from the depths of his soul.
"Master..."
Quirrell revealed a respectful smile through the black veil, one that looked worse than crying, and bowed deeply.
"Your loyal servant... has come to fetch you."
Just then, accompanied by a sharp metallic scrape, the rusty gates of the orphanage were pushed open from the inside.
"Tamara?"
A voice tinged with surprise came through.
Martha from the orphanage walked out. She first saw Tamara standing at the gate, then looked warily at the tall, rigid lady in grey beside her.
"You're on summer break so soon? This is..."
Martha frowned as she sized up Quirrell.
Before Tamara could speak, Quirrell spoke first.
"Confundo."
A hidden ripple of magic instantly struck Martha.
Quirrell immediately straightened his back, perfectly switching to a Muggle persona, and spoke in a stiff, affected voice.
"Hello, madam. I am Tamara's distant aunt, Quirina."
"This summer, I have specially come from out of town to take my poor niece to visit relatives at my place."
"You know... life has been hard since her uncle passed away. I am only a woman, with no one to rely on. Now that things are a little better, I thought of taking Little Tammy back..."
Hearing the nauseating name Little Tammy, Tamara's fingers tightened around the handle of her suitcase.
If she did not need to rely on this idiot to lead the way, she would have blasted him with the Cruciatus Curse on the spot.
Martha, under the Confundus Charm, had cloudy eyes for a moment. Then she immediately looked enlightened, and her attitude became incredibly warm.
"Oh! So it's Ms Quirina! This is wonderful. Tamara finally has a relative willing to take her in..."
Martha turned around and looked at Tamara with genuine care.
"Go on, good child. If possible... I hope you never have to return to this miserable place again."
Hearing Martha's abundant emotion, a complicated flash of disgust crossed Tamara's eyes, but she still politely bid Martha farewell.
She was immensely glad she had made the decision to leave Britain.
Otherwise, if this continued, she might actually be affected by this nauseating genuine emotion.
She shot a cold glance at Quirrell, who was still acting, and turned toward the street corner.
"Let's go, Auntie."
.....
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