Hermione naturally had no way of knowing Crookshanks' thoughts or the colorful curses running through the mind of Peter Pettigrew, who was being chased. She was simply a cat owner who didn't want her feline child running wild through Hogwarts castle when danger might be lurking.
Rounding a corner, Crookshanks had already vanished from sight. Hermione sighed helplessly, noting how much faster the cat had become after Glenn's training, and reluctantly drew her wand to cast a spell to help locate Crookshanks.
"Point Me."
Her wand swiveled toward a direction, and Hermione continued in that direction.
"Going downstairs?"
The staircase leading to the seventh floor lay ahead. Hermione leaned over the banister and spotted Crookshanks still running below.
"Crookshanks, it's time to go back!"
Hermione called down toward Crookshanks on the seventh floor. The running cat's fluffy ears twitched, but he completely ignored her, disappearing from Hermione's line of sight.
"Oh, you little rascal! Stop running!"
Seeing Crookshanks ignore her, Hermione stamped her foot in frustrated annoyance. Another wave of intense drowsiness hit her, forcing her to pull a potion from her protective charm—one that would keep her alert for a short time—and drain it completely. Then she vaulted over the banister and leaped down toward the seventh floor.
"Now it'll take ages for the effects to wear off completely and let my brain rest... Cushioning Charm."
Complaints aside, the spell still needed casting. This charm for slowing high-altitude falling objects had become a complete tool for Glenn and Hermione to quickly descend from heights. By now, even with Hermione casting the Cushioning Charm on herself alone, it was enough to ensure a safe landing from above.
"When I catch you, I'm definitely going to spank your furry bottom!"
Light as a cat, Hermione dropped from above, landing on the seventh floor's ground. She crouched slightly, using her hand to brace against the floor and absorb the impact, then looked ahead as if confirming something before beginning to cast spells on herself.
The corridor ahead stretched in a straight line to the end. The girl no longer planned to rely on her legs to chase Crookshanks—she would use magic to show that cat who looked down on humans!
"Terra Motus, Pluma Levis, Ventus Celer, Via Libera, Spiritus Comes..."
More than ten enhancement spells flickered with various colored lights across Hermione's body as she chanted sometimes in Eagle tongue, sometimes in Dragon Country language. Maintaining different types of enhancement spells or Dragon Country techniques simultaneously was still far from Glenn's current monstrous level of dozens of buff spells at once, but it was already breathtaking.
How could a young wizard's physical constitution support so many different types of spells coexisting and taking effect within the body? How could magical circuits layer and intersect without collapsing from mutual interference and causing magical backlash?
Control over magical power was also a crucial aspect of learning magic, casting spells, and maintaining them. Understanding this well, Hermione had naturally put tremendous effort into this area, with gratifying results.
When Hermione wanted to, she could speak very quickly. In just three or four seconds, she completed all her enhancements.
"...Finally."
She caught her breath slightly, raised her head, and looked toward the darkness of the corridor ahead, where only a few lonely candle flames flickered eerily. They reflected in the girl's clear brown eyes, as if flames had ignited in Hermione's gaze as well.
She pointed her wand ahead, her lips parting softly.
"Blazing wheels that race and burn, clear my path—Wind Breaker."
Though still somewhat awkward, Hermione's Dragon Country pronunciation was quite standard.
With the final syllable's utterance, a gale erupted from Hermione's wandtip, sweeping toward the front of the corridor. In an instant, every candle along the entire corridor extinguished. The portraits hanging on the walls, already asleep, were blown askew, letting out various screams and beginning to flee within their frames. Yet Hermione's form remained completely unaffected by the gale pouring from her wand, as if Newton's third law had no power over her at this moment.
Finally, in the corridor now plunged into complete darkness, a figure wreathed in flowing light crossed the space as if transcending dimensions, traversing the corridor at an incomprehensible speed.
The greatest resistance faced by rapidly moving objects is wind. The so-called Dragon Country technique, Wind Breaker, as its name suggests, breaks through this resistance for practitioners who wish to move swiftly.
However, considering Crookshanks running ahead, Hermione didn't use her full power with Wind Breaker, only letting it affect a small section of corridor ahead—not enough to blow Crookshanks away directly.
Casting the Ground Movement spell to rush out of the Wind Breaker's range, Hermione immediately spotted Crookshanks ahead, still running but finding time to glance back and see what was happening behind him.
And ahead of Crookshanks was a small, dark creature.
Hermione focused her gaze, and her head immediately began to ache.
The small thing ahead of Crookshanks, now gasping for breath from exhaustion, was none other than Ron's pet rat!
"Well! You naughty little kitty, why are you scaring someone's pet again?"
Hermione stood on the rapidly moving ground with her hands on her hips, pointing at Crookshanks with a huffed expression.
But the next moment, Hermione's pretend anger immediately transformed into terror, fury, and disbelief.
Because within her field of vision, that rat being chased by Crookshanks until it looked ready to collapse began rolling on the ground, growing larger and larger as it rolled, then transformed into a short, strange man.
Dull, lusterless, sparse, and disheveled hair covered his head, complete with numerous bald patches. Below that were two small, watery eyes that appeared quite unsettling on his face, along with a face like a fat rat's and a pointed nose—shifty-eyed and slovenly.
But that wasn't the point. The point was that this short, unfamiliar man had already drawn his wand from his pocket and turned around. He was now pointing his wand at Crookshanks, who had turned to look back at Hermione, his face twisted as he spoke in a voice filled with hatred and shrillness.
"I've had enough of you, you damned cat! Die! Confringo!"
It was the Blasting Curse.
In an instant, Hermione made her judgment. Her left hand, the technique hand, began to glow faintly as she pulled it back, while her right hand waved her wand forward.
"Accio Crookshanks!"
Her left technique hand finally burst with warm white light. The Summoning Charm took effect, and Crookshanks, whose fur had already bristled from sensing the killing intent, felt his body lighten as he began flying rapidly backward once again.
Then both human and cat vanished into the dust kicked up by the explosion.
The thunderous roar echoed throughout the entire corridor.
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