Chapter 44 - Chapter 44: The Unforgivable Curses

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Harry's smile froze.

Wait. What?

Didn't he catch the Snitch?

Why was everyone screaming Hermione's name?

He watched, numb, as the crowd hoisted her up, tossing her into the air over and over.

Who am I? Where am I? What am I supposed to do?

In the stands, Professor McGonagall beamed. Gryffindor had finally won again.

Snape stared at the wreckage of his Slytherin team, jaw twitching. But when his gaze drifted to Harry... a flicker of something almost like pride crossed his face.

Dumbledore covered his face with one hand. No one knew what he was thinking.

Except for Slytherin, the other three houses erupted in cheers—laced with schadenfreude.

Finally. Your turn.

They'd all been victims of Slytherin's dirty tactics. Now someone had beaten them at their own game.

No one thought Hermione had gone too far. If anything, they loved it.

Justice served.

New York. Stark Tower.

Tony, Pepper, and Fury stared at the screen, jaws slack.

She plays THAT dirty?

Pepper had been worried when Slytherin started their cheap shots. Poor, sweet Hermione—what if she got hurt?

Turns out Hermione was ready to take on the entire team solo. She'd practically turned her broomstick into a weapon.

So violent.

No wonder wizards were rare. Talent wasn't the only filter.

"Wait." Tony's eyes widened. "She asked me to modify her broomstick for THIS?"

"She wanted me to mount a six-barrel minigun. Thank God I said no, or—"

All three swallowed hard.

The feed cut out.

"What happened?" Fury snapped to attention. He needed more intel.

"Hermione probably shut it down," Tony said. "Didn't want to risk detection."

Fury sighed. He was the one asking for favors. She held all the cards.

His phone buzzed. He answered, face darkening.

"Apologies. Something urgent at HQ."

He left without another word.

Tony watched him go, bemused.

Hogwarts. Library.

Hermione flipped through Modern Magical History. Across from her sat Harry and Ron.

They exchanged a glance. Harry spoke first. "Hermione, we need to ask you something."

"Mm."

"Do you know who Nicolas Flamel is?"

"Yes."

She didn't look up.

Harry's eyes lit up. "Who is he?"

"Alchemist. Why?"

Hermione glanced at them. They must've stumbled onto something while she was in the MCU.

Harry hesitated, clearly reluctant to elaborate.

"Sounds like you two had quite the adventure."

Hermione didn't press. She could guess: they'd discovered something hidden in the third-floor corridor.

Hagrid's discretion strikes again.

Harry looked sheepish. He felt bad leaving Hermione out of their investigation.

It wasn't that he didn't trust her. It was that if Hermione knew, she'd probably storm the forbidden corridor herself.

They weren't ready to escalate that far.

"Do you know if Flamel invented anything important?" Harry asked, latching onto the word alchemist.

"No idea. Nothing in the library." Hermione stood, patted his shoulder. "But if it's really important... there's one place you could check."

"Where?"

"The Restricted Section."

She left them with a knowing look.

Winter's first snow fell silently. Hogwarts Castle donned a silver cloak. Christmas approached. Most students went home for the holidays.

Night.

Hermione, cloaked in the Invisibility Cloak, slipped into the Restricted Section. Pushed open the door.

She'd been waiting for this.

As payment for helping Harry, she'd borrowed the Cloak the moment Dumbledore gifted it to him.

What she needed it for? Harry didn't know. Didn't dare ask.

Hermione didn't care about the castle's intrigues. Quirrell, Dumbledore, Snape—their little chess game meant nothing to her. All that mattered was accessing the Restricted Section.

As one of the Deathly Hallows, the Cloak's invisibility bypassed the anti-Disillusionment Charms warding the area.

She spent the night reading.

Days later, she'd combed through the entire Restricted Section.

The Mysterious Magic Book absorbed a treasure trove of powerful spells.

She opened the interface.

[Hermione Jane Granger]

[Magic Level: Lv2 (5370/10000)]

[Spells]

Expelliarmus Lv2, Incendio Lv2, Glacius Lv2, Obliviate Lv1, Legilimens Lv1, Protego Lv2, Disillusionment Charm Lv2, Transfiguration Lv2...

Hermione nodded, satisfied. Then scrolled down.

The real prize.

[Dark Magic]

[Dark Harvest (Talent):] Reap souls. Gain energy.

[Levicorpus Lv1]

[Sectumsempra Lv2]

[Imperius Curse Lv1:] One of the three Unforgivable Curses. Victim enters a trance, unable to resist commands.

[Cruciatus Curse Lv1:] One of the three Unforgivable Curses. Victim experiences soul-deep agony.

[Avada Kedavra Lv1:] One of the three Unforgivable Curses. Victim's soul is obliterated. Instant death.

Yes.

Finally.

Anyone who'd seen the HP series knew these three. The most infamous Dark Magic spells. Control. Torture. Kill.

For Hermione's current level? Absolute game-changers.

Sure, Lv1 Avada Kedavra could only kill small animals. Against a human? Maybe a nosebleed. But she could grind it.

She'd just need to practice somewhere isolated. In the MCU? Fine. In the HP world? If anyone caught her using these on people, straight to Azkaban.

As for Fiendfyre and Horcrux creation—the spells she'd really wanted—nothing. Not in the Restricted Section.

She remembered Voldemort had found them here as a student.

Did they destroy the books because of him?

Worth noting: the Invisibility Cloak had been cataloged as a Rare Artifact. She just lacked materials to replicate it.

Hermione descended a spiral staircase into the depths of the Restricted Section.

A massive mirror stood in the empty chamber.

Engraved at the top:

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi."

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