A brown cat darted swiftly down the corridor.
Hermione remained in her Animagus form as she made her way toward the Forbidden Forest.
Regardless of whether Luna's statement was true or false, their conversation just now had caused her to connect a series of strange events that had happened before.
She remembered that eerie, mysterious aura.
Could it be related to him?
And what had been the purpose of Luna's Patronus just now?
Countless questions arose in her mind in a short period of time.
By the time she reached the Forbidden Forest, Malfoy had already disappeared.
Mist filled the air, and thorns grew thickly.
Hermione shuddered as she gazed at the seemingly endless forest. She quickly ended her Animagus transformation and looked around for a long time.
She sensed that repulsive aura.
Looking up, she saw a tall tree.
Hermione gradually moved closer to it, and the feeling became stronger with every step.
There was a very faint rectangular mark around the tree, as though it had once been cut.
"Diffindo!"
Hermione kept her distance and gently raised her wand.
Unexpectedly, it worked easily.
But Hermione's face suddenly turned deathly pale, and her amber eyes contracted sharply.
The putrid stench and nausea brought back many unpleasant memories.
Yet there was nothing in front of her.
Then, struck by a sudden inspiration, Hermione raised her wand and shouted:
"Expecto Patronum!"
Flames roared.
The rolled-up piece of cloth began to burn.
"An Invisibility Cloak?"
The thought immediately flashed through Hermione's mind.
The Dementor had been wearing a tattered black cloak.
As the Invisibility Cloak burned away, the figure concealed beneath it was revealed.
Apart from Dumbledore's Patronus, which could destroy Dementors, most people could only force them to retreat.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Hermione's Patronus forced the Dementor back.
She struggled to breathe.
Her mind raced as she wondered why the Dementors, which had disappeared long ago, had appeared in the Forbidden Forest.
At the same time, the previous situation suddenly made sense.
Why had Firenze been so irritable?
Why had the centaurs' territory been shrinking?
When Malfoy disappeared, had he come here?
For the Dementors?
The thought that these evil creatures had been hiding within the school sent a chill through Hermione.
Had Voldemort subdued these monsters?
She was going to report it to Professor McGonagall immediately.
"Miss Granger?"
She heard a scream from behind her and immediately turned around.
"Dobby?"
"What are you doing here? Where is your master?"
Her gaze fell on the dark cabinet behind Dobby.
It was difficult to imagine how such a small body could move such a large cabinet.
But house-elves possessed incredibly powerful magic. After all, they could manage the cleaning of an entire manor, so moving a single cabinet was hardly a challenge.
"What is this? And what are those Dementors doing hidden inside the tree?" Hermione demanded.
"Dobby must keep this a secret."
In reality, house-elves were not particularly intelligent, and Dobby's anxious expression gave away quite a lot.
Is your master inside this cabinet?
Although Hermione knew the statement was illogical, it contained several key pieces of information.
And since this cabinet was being treated with such importance, there had to be some significant connection between them.
"No! Dobby must keep it a secret!"
Dobby immediately tensed up, his entire body trembling.
He raised a finger, and blue light emanated from it.
The usually weak-looking creature actually attacked the wizard.
"Dobby is sorry, Miss Granger, but Dobby must be loyal to his master first and foremost!"
"Protego—"
Hermione was knocked down instantly.
"I'm sorry, Dobby. I shouldn't have resisted."
Dobby wiped away his tears.
"But Dobby has to take care of all this."
He muttered to himself as he turned away and continued moving the strange cabinet.
But he failed to notice Hermione lying in the grass, raising her wand toward him.
"Stupefy!"
A flash of light struck Dobby, sending him flying through the air.
His head slammed into the cabinet, and he collapsed against its side.
Hermione stared at the strange cabinet covered in unusual patterns.
She took a deep breath, held her wand high in her right hand, remained alert, and slowly pulled the cabinet open with her left.
"Lumos!"
She illuminated the dim interior of the cabinet, but found nothing unusual.
Unbeknownst to her, Dobby's arm twitched almost imperceptibly, aiming at her back.
A powerful impact came from behind.
Hermione was thrown inside.
The entire cabinet lost its balance and began rolling down the long hillside.
"Dobby made a mistake! Dobby made a mistake!"
Dobby covered his cheeks, shaking his head as he tried to chase after it.
He watched as the cabinet collided with stones again and again, deforming slightly with every impact.
When it finally reached level ground, it was pitted and uneven, as though it had nearly fallen apart.
Inside the cabinet, Hermione had been fortunate enough to pass through the Vanishing Cabinet before the worst of the damage occurred.
Otherwise, her body might have been cut into countless pieces.
Almost immediately after regaining consciousness, she felt cold.
Not only physically, but mentally as well.
She carefully observed her surroundings.
The only light came through the crack beneath an iron gate not far in front of her.
It seemed to be a cellar.
Light streamed down from the top of the stairs and through the iron bars, illuminating the dust swirling through the air.
Hermione looked back at the cabinet.
If she wasn't mistaken, it was connected to the one she had just seen.
Her vigilance immediately rose.
In an unfamiliar place, every additional moment spent there increased the danger.
However, returning the way she had come was impractical.
The fact that Dobby had not followed her for so long meant that the cabinet must have been damaged.
Some magical objects were extremely fragile. Even the slightest collision could damage them, let alone the violent impacts this one had endured.
To verify this, Hermione took a piece of parchment from her small bag.
She pushed it into the cabinet and pulled.
With a tearing sound, the intact parchment was sliced in two, leaving behind a rough, jagged tear.
Returning the way she had come was unlikely.
Whether she wanted to gather intelligence or find an opportunity to escape, she had to get out.
And what awaited her on the floor above?
Hermione herself had no idea.
Meanwhile, Malfoy, who was reporting information to Voldemort, was completely unaware that another outsider had entered his home.
"Indeed, this intelligence is very useful."
The pale-blue tabletop radiated a chilling aura.
The long rectangular table stretched from Voldemort's seat all the way to the end of the hall.
People sat on both sides of the table.
Malfoy was half-bent over, humbly looking toward the ground as he waited for Voldemort's interrogation.
Voldemort leaned back in his chair, glancing sideways at his trusted lieutenant with scarlet eyes.
His long, pale, spider-leg-like fingers gently swirled the blood-red liquid in a clear goblet, releasing an intoxicatingly rich aroma.
Malfoy had successfully completed his undercover mission and returned home.
"They're all old faces who should have died more than a decade ago."
A thick stack of parchment lay on the table before Voldemort.
He casually flipped through it with his other hand.
Every time a sheet was turned, it quickly burned to ashes with a spark and vanished into thin air.
The parchment contained information about the school's faculty and staff, as well as recent developments.
There was also a detailed map showing every corner of Hogwarts.
It was as detailed as the Marauder's Map, except that it lacked any dynamic changes.
That too was quickly burned.
Exceptional wizards all possessed powerful memories.
It was one of the most basic requirements.
"Are you sure Potter is still in the school?"
"Master, he's a Gryffindor."
Malfoy spoke with a slight air of humility and a smile.
"Yes, he's a Gryffindor!"
Voldemort's tone suddenly changed.
"The people from that House have always possessed nothing but the courage of brutes."
"For example, right now, my loyal Nagini smells a very disgusting odour."
"That smells like a Muggle."
"My Nagini has eaten far too many Muggles. It's her favourite taste—the most familiar taste."
Malfoy's heart tightened.
He gripped the wand hidden inside his sleeve because Voldemort's gaze had suddenly locked onto him and remained there.
Then he realized that Voldemort wasn't looking at him.
He was looking at the person behind him.
Voldemort didn't even raise his wand.
He simply pointed his pale, slender finger casually toward the front-right.
A thick beam of red light shot out.
A slash passed across Malfoy's right cheek.
With a muffled thud, a slender figure appeared before everyone and fell straight to the ground.
Who else could it be but poor Hermione?
History always repeated itself.
Hermione, hidden beneath a Disillusionment Charm, collapsed to the ground as her magical power failed and her body gradually became visible.
She lay motionless, the sparkle disappearing from her eyes.
Her long, brown, curly hair was dishevelled and obscured her face.
Looking at the girl on the ground, Malfoy's pupils suddenly contracted.
His fists clenched, and cold sweat quickly trickled down his back from the nape of his neck.
Although his heart was churning with emotions, he could only remain calm and suppress his nervousness for the time being.
"Ha. Look at this. A Mudblood somehow managed to sneak into our meeting place…"
The vampires present suddenly bared their fangs, while the werewolf scratched its chest with its claws.
"Let me think. I recognize her. She's a good friend of that Saviour."
"What should I do with her?"
"Killing her seems too lenient."
Voldemort wore a conflicted expression.
The conflict, however, was merely an illusion.
The "dilemma" was simply the struggle of choosing which method of torture to use.
Malfoy forced himself to calm down.
At that moment, he deliberately manipulated the muscles in his face.
His breathing became heavier, his pupils contracted sharply, and his gaze fixed itself upon the girl lying before him.
But he tried to appear as indifferent as possible while still attracting Voldemort's attention.
"Draco? You seem quite excited. Do you hate her?"
Voldemort keenly sensed an extremely faint killing intent.
But it was not directed at him.
Sensing something, he asked Malfoy with amusement, his pale fingers idly playing with the wand brimming with powerful magic.
Precise concentration and mental focus were extremely energy-consuming.
Voldemort could often discern people's feelings toward him with nothing more than a casual glance.
That was his habit.
What he had temporarily gleaned from Malfoy was a mixture of excitement and resentment.
Malfoy's nerves were stretched extremely tight.
Yet he continued manipulating his facial muscles, using techniques to shut down certain thoughts and control his mind while rapidly constructing false memories.
"She ruined my plans at school countless times! She interrupted my activities every single time!"
Malfoy spoke with a resentful expression, clenching his fists.
"I was almost killed by her once."
"Slytherin coward! You coward! You don't even dare approach this monster!"
Hippogriff—Buckbeak.
"Who said I wouldn't dare!"
Malfoy rushed forward, only to be knocked to the ground.
A cursory glance revealed that his memories were superficial—or rather, deliberately superficial.
"Let's guess how this Mudblood woman managed to sneak in."
Malfoy's face suddenly turned deathly pale.
"Perhaps I was followed this time too!"
The last trace of colour quickly vanished from his pale face.
"Master, please forgive my mistake."
Malfoy spoke hastily.
Voldemort rubbed his palms together as though considering something.
Then he suddenly revealed a smug smile.
"Of course I know that if that poor Mudblood girl had known she would come here and meet me, she certainly wouldn't have come."
"The people at Hogwarts were too busy running for their lives to willingly come here. Only the fools from Gryffindor would dare do such a thing."
"Let me think."
"This is the Malfoy family's estate."
"Everything here belongs to the master of the manor, doesn't it?"
"Yes. Everything we have belongs to our master."
Malfoy replied humbly, his heart pounding faster.
"Oh? That's not actually the answer I wanted."
Voldemort smiled.
"I simply suddenly felt that it would be best if the real host greeted the guest."
"Then you can humiliate her. I can sense that this Mudblood might be a tough nut to crack, and the Cruciatus Curse might not be of much use."
"I remember there is a way to completely break female Muggles and witches, isn't there…?"
Voldemort's implication was almost explicit.
"Of course, this will require you to make some sacrifices."
"After all, you might not be willing to accept this Mudblood yourself."
"Perhaps a werewolf or a vampire would work?"
"I don't mind."
Malfoy tugged at the muscles of his face, his shoulders trembling slightly, displaying the excitement of someone about to take revenge and fulfil his desires.
But in his eyes as he looked at Hermione, there was also precisely the right amount of disgust.
"Then I'll leave that to you."
"I'm sure you'll be satisfied."
"Also, I need a reasonable explanation for how she got here."
"Perhaps she can even give us some information about that Saviour."
Voldemort licked his pale lips, as though he had just thought of something interesting.
The Dark Lord agreed with Malfoy's statement.
After all, he wanted to personally execute Mr Potter himself.
For someone of his status, personally interrogating someone was somewhat beneath him.
Malfoy finally breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.