Three grotesque, darkened faces loomed like demons, their hollow eye sockets radiating an eerie, indescribable menace. They flickered in and out of the thick, black-gray fog that seemed to engulf the entire museum. Beneath the heavy, leaden clouds, only swirling mist was visible.
"Bastard, my servant, my child, my warrior—you've found a new friend. How heartwarming…"
At the end of the corridor, a figure emerged, cloaked in a long, flowing robe, their face hidden beneath a hood.
The little girl, Bastien, stared at the Dark wizard, her frail body trembling. Hermione turned to her, noticing something off. Bastien wasn't shaking from fear—her usually pitiful expression was now complex, her eyelashes quivering.
"Come back to me, child. Kneel and kiss my boots, put the collar back on, and return to being my slave," the Dark wizard said, his voice dripping with malice and amusement. "As a reward, I'll let her live."
His gaze swept over Hermione, sending a chill through her, like being stalked by a predator. The last time she'd felt this was in the Chamber of Secrets.
"Hermione told me no one is anyone's slave. We're all born equal, with the right to freedom," Bastien said, stumbling over the words but speaking with solemn conviction. "I'm not your slave. My mom wasn't your servant. Picani and the others aren't your puppets."
"A puppy freed from its collar just yesterday, spouting nonsense about dignity from a foolish little witch," the Dark wizard sneered. "You think coming to Paris makes you free? Do you remember what your mother said before she died? Slaves obey!"
He lifted his head, revealing a handsome yet pale face, like a twisted version of a church pastor. His expression contorted as he waved his wand and roared:
"Imperio!"
Before Hermione could raise her wand to counter, Bastien turned to the Granger family, a faint smile on her face, as if whispering a quiet thank you.
A blue glow flickered in her eyes. Her body dissolved into a swirling white mist, surging toward the Imperius Curse with a howling gust. The curse's beam flickered out like a snuffed candle, not even causing a ripple.
The white mist didn't stop, charging straight at the Dark wizard. Just as it was about to slam into his chest, he let out a panicked shriek: "Picani! Picani!"
The roaring wind rattled the glass windows, threatening to shatter them. The Granger family looked up in terror as the leaden clouds seemed to pour down, transforming into a suffocating black fog that collided with Bastien's white mist.
A powerful shockwave swept through, cracking the floor and grinding stone to dust. It felt as if the entire museum was being swallowed.
The whirlwind stabilized, and the sky turned a dull gray. Through the layers of mist, a faint scent of despair lingered, heavy and unyielding. Even the edge of the blast hit Hermione hard, pressing on her chest and making it hard to breathe.
Though she couldn't see the fight clearly, Bastien's white mist seemed to have the upper hand, judging by its spread.
The Dark wizard's hood had been torn off by the wind. The Obscurial had blocked Bastien's attack, but some of the mist still struck him, snapping several ribs. His face twisted in agony.
"Damn it! Damn it! I'll break every bone in your bodies!" he screamed.
Hermione watched his staggering form, took a deep breath to quell her racing thoughts, and channeled her anger into her wand: "Reducto!"
A blue beam shot toward him. Without looking up, the Dark wizard flicked his wand, casting another Imperius Curse.
The two spells clashed, their blinding beams grinding like sword tips, sparking and hissing in midair before dissolving into smoke.
Hermione failed to subdue the Dark wizard, and he couldn't easily control her either. It seemed a stalemate, but Hermione had carefully gathered her magic for that spell, while the Dark wizard had countered effortlessly with an Unforgivable Curse.
The danger was clear.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger exchanged a glance, silently agreeing. They rushed forward, one on each side, using museum display boards as makeshift shields and hurling random objects at the Dark wizard.
A piece of debris struck his chest, jarring his broken ribs. He cried out in pain, his eyes flashing with humiliated rage. His wand slashed left and right, firing two curses.
Dark red beams flashed.
The foam and plastic boards offered no protection. The curses struck the Grangers, halting their charge. They collapsed, motionless.
Hermione's eyes reddened instantly.
Ignoring her fear and the wizard's superior magic, she seized the moment, waving her wand with precision. A scarlet curse roared out, reaching the Dark wizard in a blink.
She'd studied her Charms lessons well and didn't waste the opportunity her parents had bought her. Without the Obscurial's interference, a duel could be decided in an instant. Even a basic spell could disable an opponent if it landed.
The Dark wizard staggered, seemingly hit.
Hermione stayed alert, capitalizing on his vulnerability. Her wand danced, her lips murmuring spells—Stunning, Binding, Freezing, and Repelling Charms—over a dozen hitting him in rapid succession.
The magical force sent him flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground, kicking up water and dust.
Hermione stood frozen, staring at him, her face expressionless but taut with tension. She hurried to her parents, her face and hands pale, veins visible beneath her skin.
Their temperatures were normal, breathing steady, heartbeats strong.
Before she could relax, the Dark wizard's sinister voice rang out again.
"Don't worry, they'll still be useful—nourishment to help you grow. I wouldn't waste them," he said, standing somehow, clutching his chest and coughing.
Hermione's pupils shrank. "How… how are you…?"
"Still standing after a dozen spells?"
He spat blood, sneering as he pulled a cracked piece of armor from under his cloak. "Dragon-scale armor. Useless against Aurors, but plenty for a little witch like you."
"Last summer… Romania…" Hermione's mind raced, recalling news reports.
"You mean the dragon egg theft?"
He paced closer, savoring her panicked expression, even deigning to explain. "Those idiots were our hires. Useless fools—didn't deliver a single egg."
"Stupefy!"
Hermione didn't comment on last summer's case. As he reminisced, she fired another spell.
He glanced at the incoming beam—bright, swift, and aimed not at his chest but his head, learning from her earlier mistake. It was well-targeted; he even felt a faint itch at his brow.
"Not bad for a young witch," he said, crushing her Stunning Spell with a misty counter-curse. His eyes never left her as he mocked, "Your magic's stronger than most your age. If you became an Obscurial, you'd outshine Bastard."
"She's Bastien now!"
"She'll be Bastard again soon. And you? Maid, servant, slave—what name do you prefer?"
Hermione answered with three rapid spells. Though they didn't harm him, her defiance seemed to enrage him. He stopped a dozen feet away, slowly raising his wand to her eyes.
"Keep waving that wand. These are your last moments touching it. After today, you'll hate it, hate being a witch, hate your magic."
He laughed softly. "I'll use the Imperius Curse to make you kill your parents yourself, so you'll despise magic forever."
Hermione wasn't timid. She'd grown up around medical dissections, faced ghosts and dark creatures, and stood up to Voldemort without flinching. But staring into those venomous eyes, she felt as if a demon from hell stood before her.
Killing with magic…
The thought was unimaginable. A bone-deep chill crept up her spine, spreading through her body. Fear made her tremble, her wand hand pale and unsteady.
"Never felt the Cruciatus Curse, have you?"
He relished her reaction, taunting her. "You stay conscious, remembering every detail—their faces, their writhing pain, their screams. It'll haunt your dreams, vivid every time you close your eyes."
Hermione fought to focus, searching for a way out, but his devilish whispers burrowed into her ears, growing clearer the more she tried to block them, eroding her will.
Savoring her fear, he began the curse, deliberately slowing his words:
"Im… per… io!"
A dim white light formed at his wand's tip, drifting toward her, closing the distance. It filled her vision, brushing her forehead and sinking into her mind.
Hermione blinked, her eyes taking on a strange glint.
"Now, obey my will. Kill them."
She glanced at the Dark wizard, then at her parents on the ground. Slowly, she raised her wand, pausing with a questioning look.
He understood, grinning viciously. "Use any spell you like. Make it painful—unbearable. Wake them from their stupor, let them writhe and scream in agony…"
"Reduc… to!"
Hermione's chant was slow, the spell's glow building at her wand's tip. As the final syllable fell, she spun her wand, the long-prepared curse roaring toward the Dark wizard.
The beam flashed, striking for his head. Caught off guard, he barely raised his left hand to block.
His hand shook like butchered meat, skin and bone tearing apart. Blood poured from the wounds, his hand nearly shredded, held together only by scraps of flesh and sinew, broken bones jutting out.
The searing pain nearly made him faint. He stumbled back, collapsing, his slaver's facade gone. Screaming like a deranged lunatic, he wailed, "My hand, my hand! You filthy slave, how—how aren't you under the Imperius Curse?"
"You can figure that out in prison!" Hermione spat, her eyes blazing with rage despite her confusion. "I hope the French wizard prison has Dementors too!"
She fired a steady, powerful Disarming Charm. The Dark wizard tried to dodge, propping himself up, but his mangled hand buckled, torn flesh and bone sending blood gushing. His vision darkened.
His wand-hand felt like it was struck by a hammer, and his wand flew from his grip.
He strained to see, but the world blurred. The little witch's figure multiplied, surrounding him. Bastien's voice mixed with the howling wind, as if ready to tear him apart.
Mad with fear, he flailed his legs, screaming, "Picani! Picani! Save me! Buck! Venge! Get me out of here!"
In the gray haze, a tidal wave of black fog surged, three faces emerging, bearing down on the corridor. The violent gusts shook the walls, threatening to collapse the building. The white mist trailed behind, whipping up winds and tearing at the black fog, like a beast chasing fleeing prey.
A faint iron tang filled the air—the blood-mist of a wounded Obscurial.
Despite its injuries, the three black fog masses pressed forward recklessly.
The white mist tugged and dragged, but couldn't stop them.
The faces in the fog were blank, their eyes filled with a soulless despair, devoid of anger or hatred.
This place is collapsing! I have to get my parents out now!
Hermione thought frantically, casting a Levitation Charm on her parents' clothes to drag them away. But it was too slow compared to the encroaching fog. She could only watch as it surged toward her.
Demonic faces loomed in the black mist, the howling wind like a banshee's wail, its destructive force shattering glass walls and ripping up floors.
As ruin closed in, a familiar, gentle voice rang out.
"Protego…"
Professor Levent's voice.