Malfoy Manor.
Deep within the gloomy castle, Lord Voldemort lay curled on the carpet, his body convulsing in agony.
The destruction of Hufflepuff's goblet had torn his soul once more. The terror of feeling the very foundation of his immortality being ripped away nearly swallowed his sanity.
Just then, a black Galleon lit up beside him, and Mundungus's fawning yet trembling voice emanated from it.
"...The main force of the Order of the Phoenix has gone to Hogwarts... That mudblood from the Granger family... and that strange cat... They are alone at Black Manor..."
Lord Voldemort jerked his head up, a terrifying light erupting from his scarlet snake-like pupils.
Granger and that cat.
That little creature that had devoured a part of his soul and helped that mudblood destroy another of his Horcruxes!
A mad and vicious plan formed in his mind instantly.
Aside from Harry Potter, what that old fool Dumbledore cared about most were his 'innocent' students.
If he used these two girls as bait to lure him out of that tortoise shell called Hogwarts... Lord Voldemort let out a raspy laugh that sounded like the hissing of a snake.
He was going to kill them.
He would torture them to death, bit by bit, right in front of Dumbledore's eyes.
And then, he would kill Dumbledore!
He called out in Parseltongue, his voice chillingly cold. "Gather the men. Come with me... to Grimmauld Place."
"And," he added, a cruel smile spreading across his face, "send a message to Dumbledore. Tell him that if he wants his precious students to live..."
"...he must come alone."
Inside a second-floor bedroom at 12 Grimmauld Place.
Hermione was sleeping deeply.
Wrestling with Bellatrix Lestrange's soul had severely overextended her magic.
At this moment, she was like a bowstring that had finally relaxed after being stretched to its limit; all her guards and defenses were down as she drifted into the deepest of dreams.
Lia, in her cat form, was curled up by her pillow, her fluffy white tail resting gently against Hermione's neck, rising and falling slightly with her even breathing.
She wasn't asleep. Her sky-blue cat eyes were like two clear sapphires in the dark, alertly scanning every corner of the room.
Hermione's scent had become pleasant.
The smell of madness and decay had faded, replaced by the familiar, warm scent of old books mixed with a faint hint of shampoo.
Lia nuzzled Hermione's cheek contentedly, letting out a soft purr.
Suddenly, the purring stopped abruptly.
Lia's ears pricked up sharply, and every hair on her body stood on end in an instant.
An unprecedented sense of ultimate crisis, like countless cold steel needles, pierced into her soul from all directions!
The alarm of [Danger Intuition] rang in her mind to a near-shattering degree!
The crisis approaching from all sides targeted every living creature in this area.
The ancient defensive arrays of Black Manor, passed down for centuries and reinforced with blood and the Dark Arts by generations of pure-blood Wizards, were silently disintegrating layer by layer.
Like a solid iceberg, they were rapidly melting under an invisible, scorching sun.
Lia leaped from the bed, landing soundlessly.
She looked back at the sleeping Hermione.
The girl's brow was slightly furrowed, as if she could feel that unsettling chill even in her dreams.
She couldn't wake her up.
She was too tired.
This thought flashed through Lia's mind.
Don't wake Hermione; she would come back as soon as she finished dealing with it herself.
In a soft white light, Lia's body elongated and changed, transforming instantly from a Ragdoll Cat into a slender Cat-girl.
She wore no shoes, her bare feet stepping onto the cold floor, yet she felt no chill at all.
She pushed open the door and walked out cautiously.
The corridor was deathly silent.
The portraits of the House of Black's ancestors on the walls were now cowering in the corners of their frames in terror, the figures covering their mouths, not even daring to scream.
The air was thick with a familiar, nauseating scent.
It was Lord Voldemort.
Lia's pupils suddenly contracted into cold vertical slits.
She walked down the stairs step by step.
Every step was as light as a falling feather, but with every footfall, the chill in the surrounding air increased.
In the living room, the silver snake-shaped door knocker had been twisted into a pretzel by a brutal force.
Broken moonlight filtered through the gap in the forcibly torn defensive array, illuminating the figure standing in the center of the hall.
No nose, skin like a bleached skeleton, and a pair of scarlet snake eyes glowing ominously in the dark.
Lord Voldemort.
He hadn't come through the fireplace, nor via Apparition.
He had walked in.
This meant that this fortress, protected by the Fidelius Charm and countless ancient spells, was now useless before him.
"We meet again, lovely little thing," Lord Voldemort spoke, his voice raspy and high-pitched, carrying the characteristic hiss of a serpent.
He didn't strike immediately, but merely observed Lia with interest through those scarlet eyes.
"Your growth has exceeded my expectations," he praised, his tone like one admiring a perfect work of art. "You rejected me at the Department of Mysteries; now, I give you one more chance."
He spread his arms as if to embrace the entire world.
"Submit to me. You will no longer be that mudblood's pet; you will stand with me at the top of the world and become the Queen of the New World. You were born to belong to the darkness, to the throne."
Lia looked at him quietly, her face devoid of any expression.
Deep within those sky-blue eyes, there wasn't a shred of desire for power or strength.
She thought of Hermione.
She had only one dream.
To live a good life with Hermione.
Her throne was only in Hermione's arms.
"My throne," Lia spoke, her voice clear and cold, devoid of emotion, "is only with her."
The smile on Lord Voldemort's face froze.
A flash of fury at being defied flickered in his scarlet snake eyes.
But soon, this fury turned into a colder, more cruel mockery.
"Is that so?" he said softly, his voice sounding as if it came from the depths of hell.
"You think you have a choice?"
...[Can I write Dumbledore off? I see many other comments saying that Dumbledore's character is destined to die...]
...[And I also feel that if Dumbledore doesn't die, how would Voldemort dare to charge into Hogwarts...]
...
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