That "Shh..." seemed to carry a magic that made her words law.
The voice was soft, yet like an invisible shackle, it instantly choked the boiling flames deep within the white dragon's throat.
The orange-red fire of destruction, about to burst forth, flickered violently like a candle in a gale before emitting an unwilling cry in the dragon's throat and being extinguished by force.
The dragon's massive frame froze in place, its cloudy, milk-white eyes staring fixedly at the door, filled with deep unease and instinctive confusion.
It could sense that the aura emanating from the Witch outside the door was both familiar and terrifying.
That bone-deep madness and malice belonged to the master who had imprisoned it here and tortured it for amusement with the Crucio curse countless times.
Bellatrix Lestrange.
But it wasn't right.
Its meager brain was unable to distinguish what exactly was wrong.
Hermione took a step forward, her black Gothic dress brushing against the dusty floor without raising a single speck of dust.
She said nothing more, simply standing there, her gaze as calm as a frozen lake.
The soul trait she had grafted was her sharpest spear, and her own heart, growing ever more like ice, was her strongest shield.
The dragon let out a low, pained wail.
The heavy shackles on its neck, deeply embedded in its flesh and carved with malicious runes, clattered as it moved, as if it wanted to struggle.
However, after only a few seconds, all resistance ceased.
Facing the memories of fear engraved deep in its soul and that incomprehensible superior pressure, the tortured legendary creature finally chose to submit.
Its massive body trembled as it slowly crouched down, its enormous head dropping to the ground in utter despair, the heavy iron chains scraping against the piles of gold with a harsh, feeble sound.
It lay prone, like a dejectedly collapsed mountain.
The curve of Hermione's lips remained unchanged as she stepped forward, passing the dragon's head—which was larger than her entire body—as if she were merely passing an ordinary rock.
Lia leaped lightly from her shoulder, following behind with an elegant and reserved cat-walk.
She tilted her head curiously at the dragon and even extended a pink paw pad to give the pale, sickly, fish-like scales a gentle pat.
The dragon's body shuddered violently, an oppressed whimper escaping its throat, yet it didn't even have the courage to move a single toe.
Lia retracted her claws, her sky-blue cat eyes blinking as if judging that the "mouthfeel" of this big fellow was poor—too old, too tough, and with a sour scent of despair.
One person and one cat officially entered the Lestrange family vault.
Mountains of gold and seas of silver, a treasure trove of jewels; the piled-up wealth shimmered with a dazzling, greedy light under the residual heat of the dragon's breath.
Countless precious magical items, ancient armor, gem-encrusted weapons and jewelry were piled haphazardly, nearly drowning the entire space.
But in the vision of Lia's Eye of Truth, this was a different, horrifying yet enticing scene.
A layer of black-red mist, so thin it was invisible to the naked eye, shrouded all the treasures like a living poisonous miasma.
Countless twisted, fine curse runes were frantically entwined around every Galleon and piece of jewelry like parasitic vines, emitting a "delicious" aroma.
"'Replication Catastrophe,'" Lia whispered the name of a curse, her voice tinged with excitement.
Hermione paused, instantly grasping Lia's meaning.
She had seen records in that human-skin magic book from Malfoy Manor: upon contact with an external object, the item would instantly duplicate into hundreds or thousands of burning-hot fakes, crushing or burning the intruder to death.
"And the 'Burning Hand'."
Her cold gaze swept over the metal that glowed with an ominous red light under the effect of the curses. Any direct skin contact would result in agonizing pain, as if being continuously burned by dragon fire until the flesh turned to charcoal.
The two malicious curses were perfectly combined, forming a theoretically flawless absolute defense system.
Hermione stopped, her brows furrowed.
Several solutions flashed through her mind, but each required extremely demanding conditions and a great deal of time.
Just as she was preparing to take out that forbidden human-skin book from her Beaded Handbag to look for a more unconventional solution, a strange sound, like someone swallowing saliva, rang out beside her.
Hermione turned her head and was instantly stunned.
She saw Lia squatting on the ground, her sky-blue cat eyes shining like two brilliant stars, staring fixedly at the treasure-filled room gleaming with curse light.
A strand of translucent, suspicious liquid was slowly hanging from the corner of her mouth.
"Hermione..." Lia's voice, carrying an irrepressible trembling excitement, screamed directly in Hermione's mind, "This... this place is..."
She seemed to be desperately searching for the most appropriate word to describe the scene before her.
"It's a top-tier... all-you-can-eat buffet!"
Hermione was completely dumbfounded.
As if to prove her judgment, Lia moved her short legs and walked carefully to the edge of the gold mountain.
There, a silver goblet that had rolled down was heavily afflicted by the Burning Hand.
She extended a paw covered in snow-white fur and, under the astonished gaze of Hermione's brown eyes, lightly touched the goblet.
There was no burning of flesh as imagined, no scream of pain.
The tip of that small paw shimmered with a pure white light, like a miniature black hole with infinite suction.
The layer of black-red mist representing the vicious curse on the goblet didn't even have time to let out a whimper before it was instantly devoured by the white light, vanishing without a trace.
Lia retracted her paw and licked her pad contentedly.
"Burp."
She gave a small burp. Her aura wasn't at all disordered; instead, she seemed like she had just eaten a top-grade salmon milk candy, her whole body radiating pleasure and satisfaction.
Hermione watched this, looking at the silver cup that had regained its original luster and no longer emitted any curse aura, completely speechless.
"...That's it?" she whispered subconsciously, her voice full of disbelief.
"Of course it's fine." Lia tilted her head, her blue eyes full of pure innocence. "This tastes good, Hermione. The appetizer is great."
She stuck out her pink tongue and licked her lips, actually starting to critique with great interest.
"Look, that 'Replication Catastrophe'," she pointed her fluffy tail tip at the restless gold coins, "it tastes like popping candy, crackling on the tip of the tongue. The texture is very rich and interesting."
"And that 'Burning Hand'," she looked at the slightly reddened armor again, "this one's got a kick. It's like those super-spicy bertie botts every flavor beans that Fred and George secretly gave me. It's very sharp at first, but the aftertaste is endless—fragrant and numbing!"
As she spoke, she looked at Hermione expectantly with eyes written all over with "want to eat," her tail behind her wagging frantically with excitement, almost leaving an afterimage.
"Hermione, can I? Please, just a little bit... can you let me eat?"
Hermione looked at the "cat" in front of her salivating over a room full of lethal curses, looking at those eyes that were clear as day yet full of desire.
She suddenly felt that investigating when Fred and George had "raided her home" behind her back and fed Lia those random things was more important than studying how to break the curses.
On Hermione's face, the mask of madness belonging to Bellatrix quietly faded, revealing a helpless yet doting smile.
She squatted down, reaching out her slender fingers to gently wipe the saliva from the corner of Lia's mouth.
"Okay," she said softly, her voice carrying a tenderness she hadn't even noticed herself.
Lia's eyes instantly lit up like two blue suns.
"But," Hermione's tone became serious again as she pressed a finger against Lia's forehead, "there are rules."
"You're only allowed to eat your fill, no overeating, and definitely no doggy bags! Our target is that cup. You're responsible for eating all the 'dishes' on the way to the cup to clear the path for me. Once we get the cup, we leave."
"Mhm, mhm, mhm!" Lia's head nodded like a high-speed sewing machine.
"Mission guaranteed, my master!" Lia imitated a knight from the movies, trying to puff out her little chest, her tail wagging like a charging cable plugged into high-voltage electricity, buzzing.
Looking at her comical antics, Hermione finally couldn't help but burst out laughing.
She stood up and clapped her hands elegantly.
"Then... my Little Glutton."
"Dig in."
As soon as she finished speaking, a white shadow turned into a joyfully fast lightning bolt, charging with indomitable momentum towards that "feast" piled with curses and gold.
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