Hermione knelt on the ground weakly.
Her vision was filled with bloodshot veins, her eyes fixed on the twisted snake face on the back of Quirrell's head.
Lord Voldemort's hiss came from that face, sticky like a snake's tongue. "Bring that beast to me... What a pity; if it were Crucio, she could have watched with her own eyes as her pathetic little love was crushed into powder."
Quirrell turned around with a sinister grin.
His target was not Hermione, but the unconscious pure white fluffball in her arms.
"mudblood, this beast's only use," Quirrell's withered claws reached for Lia, his voice full of cruel pleasure, "is to please the great Master!"
That hand.
It grew larger and larger in Hermione's pupils.
Approaching Lia's snow-white fur inch by inch.
She forgot the spell.
Forgot to breathe.
Her brain went blank from extreme fear and rage.
The magic wand was in her hand, but it was as cold as a piece of scrap wood, unable to summon even a sliver of magic.
No.
Don't touch her.
At the moment Quirrell's fingertips were about to touch the snow-white fur—
"Don't touch her!"
A non-human roar erupted from the deepest part of Hermione's throat.
Anger and sorrow broke through her mental shackles.
Her body followed its most primal instinct and lunged forward!
She did not chant a spell; instead, she used the magic wand in her hand as a sharp knife, stabbing the outstretched hand with all her might!
She used the vine wood wand as a sharp knife, stabbing it deep into the reaching hand with all her strength!
Squelch!
The tip of the wand pierced through the back of the hand. Warm black blood splattered across her face.
"Ah—!"
Quirrell's scream broke the dead silence.
The pressure pinning Harry down loosened.
Now!
Harry sprang up from the ground! He roared and tackled Quirrell to the floor from the side!
"Don't touch her!"
"Get off!" Quirrell, enraged by shame, swung his hand at Harry's face.
Skin contact.
"Aaaaaah—!"
Quirrell's scream reached its peak as the pain of flesh and soul washed over him.
His palm boiled and carbonized the moment it touched Harry, turning to ash with acrid black smoke.
Harry was stunned.
The next second, he grabbed Quirrell's other arm tightly!
The ancient protection magic originating from Lily Potter was triggered by Lord Voldemort's malice!
"Master! My hand! I can't touch him!" Quirrell screamed in terror, watching his own body crumble inch by inch under that pure white power.
Finally, he turned into a pile of human-shaped ash.
"No—!"
Lord Voldemort's soul let out a shriek, turning into black smoke and darting out from the ashes, passing straight through Harry's body.
Harry gave a muffled groan and fell back, losing consciousness.
The world was finally quiet.
Victory? The enemy's retreat?
These words meant nothing to Hermione.
In her world, only the body losing heat in her arms remained.
That little heater that was always warm, for the first time, felt bone-chillingly cold.
"Lia..."
She lowered her head, nuzzling the unresponsive fur with her cheek. Tears fell, soaking a small dark wet patch on the pure white fur like stains on snow.
"I'm sorry..." broken whispers escaped from her throat.
Just then, a flame ignited silently at the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets, and Albus Dumbledore stepped out from it.
He saw the tragedy in the room at a glance: the unconscious Harry, the pile of ashes, and... Hermione holding the white cat, her soul seemingly drained.
"Hermione..." Dumbledore approached, his voice heavy with grief.
Hermione slowly looked up, her face streaked with tears.
"She's dead, Professor." Her voice was so dry she could barely make a sound. "Lia... she took the Killing Curse for me."
Dumbledore looked at the cat, his blue eyes showing pity and grief.
Before his words of comfort could be spoken.
"Crack."
A tiny, crisp snapping sound.
In the silent stone room, the sound was clear enough to make one's scalp tingle.
Hermione's crying stopped abruptly.
She stiffly lowered her head, her gaze focusing on Lia in her arms.
The spine that had been broken by the Killing Curse—the pale bone fragments were moving on their own, making a grating sound as they slowly reconnected.
There was no blinding light.
An extreme cold erupted from within Lia, greedily snatching the surrounding heat. Hermione's arms felt a piercing chill; a visible layer of thin frost was rapidly condensing on her forearms!
Stiff limbs spasmed and stretched in reverse-jointed, puppet-like postures. The "crack-crack" of bones resetting continued.
Hermione's mind was blank; she seemed to "see" things that did not belong to this world.
Wisps of sickly green mist, invisible to mortals, were being forcibly stripped and parsed from Lia's soul by a brutal power!
The sickly green glow surrounding Lia was being turned into nourishment, greedily swallowed by the "repairing" body!
The vitality cleared by the curse was being violently snatched back into this shell!
All anomalies vanished instantly.
The white cat in Hermione's arms turned back into a young girl.
Lia's clouded, grayish-black eyes suddenly lit up with sky-blue again.
Deep within that pure blue was a faint, almost imperceptible ring of ghostly green light.
Deep, mysterious, and ominous.
...So cold...
Green light... eaten...
*Hermione's scent... so warm...*
"Meow..."
A weak, raspy cry that seemed to pierce through death.
Lia looked up and saw Hermione's tear-streaked face, a mix of shock, ecstasy, and deep fear.
"Her... mione?"
A soft call, just like usual.
Hermione's breath hitched.
Her vision narrowed until only those relit eyes remained.
The next second, she tightened her arms, pressing the lost-and-found treasure into her chest with all her strength.
"Thank goodness..." She stopped crying, only whispering in a hoarse, trembling voice in Lia's ear over and over.
"Lia... Lia..."
In a peak of emotional release, Hermione lowered her head and pressed a hot, trembling kiss onto the forehead still carrying tears and cold.
Dumbledore stood by, witnessing this scene that defied common sense and even desecrated the laws of life.
There was no relief on his face; behind the half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes were filled with unprecedented gravity and vigilance.
He looked at Lia, safe in Hermione's arms, then at Harry, unconscious on the ground after reflecting the Killing Curse with his mother's love.
One was a miracle bathed in the sacred protection of blood.
The other... Dumbledore's gaze locked onto the ghostly green ring fading deep in Lia's pupils.
She hadn't "resisted" the Killing Curse.
She had "endured" it, and then... "devoured" it.
The old man slowly knelt to check Harry's condition, but his entire focus was on the cat that had just finished "feeding."
Hogwarts had gained two "anomalies."
One was the savior of the prophecy.
One was a cat that could feed on death.
Fortunately, both were good children.
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