Harry stood at the doorway, watching this scene, feeling an unspeakable chill rush from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.
That coldness seemed to have a physical form, crawling up his spine and freezing his blood, turning his entire body stiff.
The Hermione before him, the one calmly wiping the ominous dagger, the one who had personally tied Lia to the bedpost with crimson ribbons, was so unfamiliar.
So unfamiliar that he felt a deep-seated fear, even beginning to doubt his own memories.
Was this still the Hermione Granger he knew, who would get nervous over schoolwork and cry for her friends' safety?
Had her soul, at some moment unknown to him, been replaced by another cold existence?
Lia looked at the diadem before her, that ancient headpiece carrying Ravenclaw's wisdom and Tom Riddle's filth.
Within her Eye of Truth, a thick, nauseating black mist was coiled at the core of this diadem.
It wasn't simple evil, but a more complex mixture, like a pot of thick soup that had been simmering for half a century and had completely rotted and spoiled.
"The taste this time..." Lia's nose twitched slightly, her voice remaining flat, "is stale ambition and the fear of being forgotten. With a little bit of... envy fermented from unfulfilled desires. It probably tastes like cold, hard stone covered in dust."
After her eighth resurrection, her ability to analyze souls had transcended simple good and evil.
She could taste every emotion and every obsession that constituted a soul.
Harry couldn't hear very clearly from the doorway, only feeling that this eerie conversation made the air in the entire room thick and cold, pressing down on him until he could hardly breathe.
Lia said no more.
Under Hermione's focused and resolute gaze, she reached out her hand.
But she didn't touch the physical diadem. Her fingertips hovered a few centimeters above it, palm facing upward.
In an instant, Harry felt an indescribable pressure descend!
The light in the room seemed to dim for a moment, as if drawn in by an invisible black hole.
A powerful, invisible suction that made the air emit a low hum suddenly erupted from her palm, forming a small vortex.
"Buzz— Buzz buzz—!"
That ancient diadem began to vibrate violently; the blue gemstone embedded in it flickered wildly, emitting an overburdened wail!
Wisps of mist deeper than the night were forcibly extracted from the diadem by a tyrannical force.
It twisted and struggled, letting out a silent shriek that human ears couldn't hear but could make the soul tremble.
Harry instinctively covered his head, feeling as if a steel needle was piercing through his brain!
Finally, all the mist gathered into a mass, desperately surging toward Lia's palm.
The black mist condensed into a pitch-black orb in Lia's fair palm; it churned and shifted frantically, manifesting Tom Riddle's young, handsome, yet venomous face, silently roaring and cursing at her, mouth opening and closing in a shout.
"No—!"
Lia looked at it expressionlessly, her eyes devoid of pity or disgust, showing only the indifference of a deity looking down upon dust.
Then, she gently closed her palm.
There was no earth-shattering sound, no world-destroying light.
Just like crushing a ripe berry.
When she opened her hand again, her palm was as smooth as jade and empty.
That mass of black mist representing Lord Voldemort's last external soul fragment, along with that venomous face, simply vanished.
It had been "eaten."
*Clink—*
The Ravenclaw diadem, having lost its soul support, slipped feebly from Hermione's hand and fell onto the carpet with a dull thud.
The glow of the Dark Arts attached to it completely dissipated, turning back into an ordinary, even somewhat dull, piece of ancient jewelry.
"The taste isn't that great."
Lia gave her final evaluation, wrinkling her delicate nose in distaste, as if she hadn't just swallowed the soul of a peerless Dark Lord, but a piece of spoiled candy.
Hermione leaned over, but didn't pick up the diadem immediately.
She walked up to Lia and reached out, her thumb gently brushing the corner of Lia's mouth, as if wiping away invisible crumbs.
Her movements were gentle and lingering, her voice carrying a hint of doting:
"This should be the last one."
She turned to look at Harry, her brown eyes frighteningly calm, as if everything that had just happened was merely solving a trivial problem.
"It's settled."
Harry opened his mouth, but couldn't say a single word.
He felt like he was observing some forbidden knowledge his godfather had mentioned.
His gaze fell upon that crimson ribbon once more.
He suddenly understood.
Hermione was using this method to tell everyone, and especially to tell Lia herself.
Even if it's just moving your finger to "eat" a Horcrux, it must be within the safety margins I have personally set.
Meanwhile.
Outside Hogwarts, at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Lord Voldemort stood at the forefront of his army, his crimson snake-like pupils coldly watching the Castle protected by the golden light shroud.
Every ripple in the defense array caused a hint of impatience to rise in his heart.
He had waited long enough!
He raised his wand, preparing to give the command for the general offensive.
"Ad—"
Just as the word was about to leave his mouth, an indescribable pain exploded from the deepest part of his soul without warning!
"Aaaaaargh—!!!"
Lord Voldemort let out a shrill, inhuman scream; he dropped his wand, clutched his head tightly with both hands, and curled up on the ground, twitching violently like a fish thrown onto the shore.
His nails dug deep into his scalp, blood flowing, yet he was completely oblivious.
The surrounding Death Eaters were scared out of their wits by this sudden turn of events.
They had never seen their great, immortal master look so pained and vulnerable.
"Master! What's wrong, Master?!" A Death Eater knelt in panic, trying to support him, but was violently pushed away by an uncontrolled burst of magic, crashing into a tree and falling unconscious.
Lord Voldemort's eyes were bloodshot; his crimson pupils no longer held arrogance, but a frenzy of horror and rage.
How could this be?! The locket, the goblet, and now the diadem!
Every one of his paths to immortality was being severed one by one!
Who was it?!
Exactly who was it, and what method did they use?!
This unknown, uncontrollable feeling made him experience a fear known as mortality, something he hadn't felt since becoming Lord Voldemort and had almost forgotten.
He couldn't continue this rash attack.
There was some power in the Castle he couldn't understand, a power that could completely obliterate his soul. Before he figured out what it was, he couldn't charge in without reservation.
"...Wait... wait!"
Lord Voldemort squeezed out a few words through his teeth, his voice distorted by the intense pain.
He forced himself to stand, his body still trembling slightly.
He glanced at the Castle, that golden fortress, which now looked like a man-eating beast in his eyes, its bloody maw wide open, waiting for him.
His gaze turned toward his feet.
There, a giant snake with scales shimmering in the moonlight lay quietly coiled, its cold vertical pupils reflecting his pained figure.
Nagini.
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