Chapter 119
When Albert turned toward Hermione, she felt a wave of terror at the sight before her.
His eyes had turned completely white, and tears streamed uncontrollably down his face.
Step by step, Albert advanced toward her, his wand raised and pointed directly at her.
Hermione's heart pounded as she called out desperately, "Albert, can you hear me? What's happening to you?!"
Her plea was met with a sudden barrage of spells, Albert casting furiously in her direction.
Thanks only to her quick reflexes, Hermione barely dodged each curse, stumbling and weaving to avoid being struck.
But she noticed something—Albert wasn't casting with his full strength. His speed and precision were being restrained, as though he was fighting against the invisible force controlling him. If he hadn't been resisting, Hermione would already have been hit.
Realizing words were useless, Hermione drew her own wand in self-defense.
Then, Albert's voice broke through the chaos. He muttered through clenched teeth as he staggered toward her, "Run… Hermione, run… go inside… Damn it, shut up, you! I must finish what I started! Aaaaaaah!"
He clutched his head with both hands, screaming in agony as if something inside his skull was tearing him apart.
This was not what the entity controlling Albert had intended. Enraged that Albert was regaining fragments of his will, it unleashed a surge of wild, uncontrolled magic, spells blasting in every direction at full force.
Hermione understood instantly—Albert was being manipulated. Her only choice was to flee, and the only safe path lay deeper inside the Restricted Section of the library. The corridor back to the common rooms was blocked by Albert himself.
She turned to run, but not quickly enough. One of Albert's spells struck her arm, sending her staggering. Pain ripped through her body as blood streamed from her wound.
Hermione gritted her teeth, clutching her injured arm, and forced herself onward, zigzagging through the narrow corridor until she disappeared into the library.
Albert saw the blood dripping from her arm. Horror pierced through the fog clouding his mind.
"My… friend… I hurt… my friend… Nooooo!" he cried.
He collapsed to the ground, screaming in defiance as the controlling force fought viciously to hold him under its power.
But Albert refused to surrender. Summoning every ounce of his strength, he raised his wand and hurled spell after spell at the cursed inscription on the wall—the very words that had ensnared him.
The corridor shook with the force of his magic. At last, the green inscriptions burned away, destroyed in a storm of crackling energy.
Albert fell to the ground, gasping for breath as if death itself hovered over him. Slowly, his eyes returned to normal, though tears still poured unchecked down his cheeks.
He was devastated, consumed by guilt at what he had done to Hermione.
"Hermione!" he cried, his voice breaking. "I hit her with the Sokolov Curse! I have to save her!"
Fear gripped him, icy and relentless. He knew the curse well—it targeted vital blood vessels, causing the victim to bleed as if a vampire had drained them dry. Once the victim lost consciousness, the countdown to death began.
Stumbling forward, weakened both in body and mind, Albert forced himself toward her.
"Damn it! I knew I needed physical training… and now look at me! Useless!" he growled bitterly, trying to push past his failing strength.
At last, he spotted Hermione collapsed on the ground, blood soaking her hand. His heart clenched.
He rushed to her side, inspecting the wound. She was still conscious—he had perhaps ten minutes before she would faint. And once she fainted, her blood loss would accelerate until death was inevitable.
Panic consumed him. His voice trembled.
"Hermione! Can you hear me? Stay with me! Just hold on—I'll save you, I swear! Please don't be afraid!"
Despite her pain, Hermione heard him. She could see his terror, his desperation—and she smiled faintly at him.
Albert nearly broke into tears. He hoisted her onto his back, determined to reach Madam Pomfrey.
His voice cracked as he pleaded with her, "Just hold on a little longer! I'll get you to Madam Pomfrey, I promise! Please don't die because of me!"
He ran, every step agony. The lingering effects of the possession dragged his body down, but his sheer willpower drove him forward, shattering his limits.
At last, he stumbled out of the suffocating corridor near the boys' restroom, gasping, Hermione still clinging weakly to life on his back.
By a miracle, Madam Pomfrey herself appeared ahead of him, carrying a small box of potions she had fetched from the infirmary supply closet.
She froze at the sight of Albert, then rushed toward him, panic in her eyes.
Albert collapsed at her feet, his body finally giving out.
He could still faintly hear her voice, frantic and urgent, feel her hands shaking his face, but his strength was gone.
And so, Albert surrendered to the darkness and lost consciousness.
To be contined ...