Since those heartfelt amulets had been distributed, Tamara's popularity at school had skyrocketed.
No matter where she went—even to the bathroom—she would run into students who had stayed behind for the holidays. They would greet her with misty eyes or try to press small return gifts into her hands, usually boxes of cloyingly sweet candies.
"A bunch of easily bought fools."
Tamara sat in a deserted corner of the Library, flipping through a thick volume while sneering inwardly.
"A few scraps of carved wood are enough to win undying loyalty? It seems ruling the world may be even easier than I imagined."
She was indulging in the private satisfaction unique to conspirators when the silence was broken by a series of light but hurried footsteps.
"Tamara! You're here!"
It was Harry Potter.
He was wearing the sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted for him, making him resemble an oddly cheerful green parrot. He ran toward her with undisguised excitement written all over his face.
Ron Weasley trailed behind, still clutching half a sandwich.
Tamara closed her book with deliberate calm and looked up coolly.
"No noise in the Library, Potter."
Her gaze drifted downward, landing on the wooden amulet hanging around Harry's neck.
The Sun Rune rose and fell gently with his breathing.
Her expression shifted, just slightly.
She had carved it casually, without much thought. And yet this foolish boy actually wore it around his neck?
Was he not afraid she might have hidden a jinx inside it?
"Sorry," Harry whispered, lowering his voice immediately. "But… I have something to show you!"
He glanced around cautiously to ensure Madam Pince was nowhere nearby. When he was certain no one was paying attention, he leaned toward Tamara's desk and pulled something from inside his robes.
A bundle of silver-gray fabric spilled onto the table.
It shimmered faintly, like flowing water under moonlight.
"Look at this," Harry said, eyes shining with delight. "It was a Christmas present. I thought you might find it interesting."
Tamara cast a careless glance at it.
Then her pupils contracted sharply.
That texture… that faint sense of depth, as though it swallowed light itself…
She did not need to touch it. She recognized it instinctively.
This was no ordinary invisibility cloak.
This was one of the legendary Deathly Hallows.
The cloak of Ignotus Peverell.
The Hallow said to evade Death itself.
So the Invisibility Cloak had already fallen into the Savior's hands.
"…Who gave this to you?"
Her voice was steady, but beneath it trembled something nearly imperceptible.
Greed.
The Dark Lord's hunger for ultimate power.
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "There wasn't a name. Just a note saying it belonged to my father and that it was time for it to be returned to me."
"I've tried it—it's brilliant!"
Harry lifted the cloak and threw it over himself.
Instantly, his body vanished.
Only his head remained floating in midair—absurd and slightly eerie.
"See? Completely invisible!" the floating head whispered excitedly. "Ron says it's incredibly rare."
"Indeed… incredibly rare."
Tamara stared at him. Beneath the table, her fingers tightened slowly, nails biting into her palm.
A Deathly Hallow.
In her previous life, she had pursued only the Elder Wand, dismissing the rest of the legend as sentimental nonsense.
But the legend was clear: one who possessed all three Hallows would become the Master of Death.
Back then, she had relied on Horcruxes—practical, efficient, brutally reliable.
But now, this cursed system prevented her from committing murder. Horcruxes were no longer an option.
The only remaining paths to immortality were the Deathly Hallows… and the Philosopher's Stone.
Tamara had never believed in limiting her ambitions.
She wanted both.
At present, the Elder Wand rested in Dumbledore's possession. The Resurrection Stone was unaccounted for.
And the third Hallow—this priceless treasure—had appeared so brazenly in the hands of an eleven-year-old child.
And that child was showing it off as though it were a novelty toy.
"What a waste…"
Her mind roared.
It should be hers.
Killing intent surged like fire through her veins.
One Stupefy.
One swift motion.
She could take it.
With this cloak, she would be one step closer to her destiny—one step closer to ruling the Wizarding World.
Her hand moved slowly toward her wand.
[Ding! Warning! Extremely strong intent to steal and rob detected from the host.]
The cold mechanical voice shattered her rising ambition like a bucket of ice water.
[According to Article 2 of the "Virtue System Core Code": Do not covet the property of others.]
[This item is the lawful inheritance of Harry Potter. The host may not deprive him of it through violence, theft, or deception.]
[Violation will result in a Level-Five Lightning Strike and forced return of the item.]
"Damn it."
Her fingers froze midair.
Level-Five Lightning Strike.
That would reduce her to charcoal.
She glared at Harry's floating head, fury simmering beneath her composed exterior.
Was she supposed to watch a Deathly Hallow rot in Potter's possession?
No.
Absolutely not.
If she could not take it by force…
She would take it by strategy.
Her eyes flickered thoughtfully.
"System," she asked calmly within her mind. "Hypothetically speaking…"
"If Harry Potter were to give this cloak to me voluntarily—or lend it to me indefinitely because he trusts me, likes me, or feels indebted…"
"That wouldn't count as theft, would it?"
There was a brief pause.
[System evaluating…]
[Gift-giving is a positive social interaction representing trust and goodwill.]
[Conclusion: If the transfer occurs voluntarily, without coercion, and without use of Unforgivable Curses…]
[Compliant.]
A faint smile curved at the corner of her lips.
"Then this becomes simple."
When Harry pulled off the cloak and reappeared, Tamara's expression had changed entirely.
Warm. Gentle.
"It truly is a remarkable treasure, Harry."
She reached out and lightly brushed the fabric between her fingers.
"You must keep it safe."
Harry flushed slightly at the praise.
"I will! I promise."
He hesitated before adding, "I'm planning to use it tonight. I want to sneak into the Restricted Section and look for information about Nicolas Flamel."
"Nicolas Flamel?"
Tamara frowned faintly.
Had Hermione truly failed to explain everything to these two idiots?
Harry nodded eagerly. "She told us about the Philosopher's Stone, but I still want to see for myself."
Tamara allowed concern to appear in her eyes.
"That section is dangerous, Harry."
She paused deliberately.
"But with this cloak… it would certainly be safer."
She met his gaze directly, her voice lowering into something intimate and sincere.
"The fact that you showed this to me—shared your secret—means you trust me deeply."
Harry blinked, then nodded with simple certainty.
"Of course. You're my friend, Tamara. You gave me that amulet. That's what friends do."
"Friend…"
She repeated the word softly, tasting it.
Inside, she sneered.
But her smile appeared touched.
"Thank you, Harry."
She leaned slightly closer, allowing the faint chill of her presence to surround him.
"If you ever feel that keeping this cloak becomes difficult… or burdensome…"
Her voice turned silken.
"Tell me. I'll help you safeguard it. Or use it wisely."
"For your protection."
"And for the Greater Good."
Harry did not understand the weight behind those words.
He only felt reassured.
"Okay!" he agreed without hesitation. "If I don't need it, I'll lend it to you! You can use it whenever you want!"
Ron shifted uncomfortably.
He seemed to sense something slightly off about promising such a treasure away so casually.
But seeing Harry's trusting smile—and Tamara's gentle expression—he said nothing.
"Then it's settled."
Tamara straightened, satisfaction blooming quietly inside her.
She did not need it now.
The seed had already been planted.
Trust would grow.
Dependency would grow.
And one day, this Deathly Hallow would be placed in her hands willingly.
Offered freely by Harry Potter himself.
"Well," she said smoothly, "since we possess such excellent equipment, it would be wasteful not to make full use of it."
Her eyes gleamed.
"I was planning to visit the Restricted Section tonight as well."
"Since we share the same destination… perhaps we should cooperate?"
Harry's face lit up immediately.
"Really? That's brilliant! I'll feel much safer with you there!"
Tamara watched him, the so-called Savior practically volunteering to guide his greatest enemy through forbidden corridors.
Her smile remained warm.
Her thoughts were anything but.
Truly.
Adorably naive
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