Chapter 98: My Name is Tom Riddle
The werewolf pursued the maiden with terrifying roars, moving at an incredible speed, as if at any moment it could pounce, its slobbering, ape-toothed maw ready to tear.
Hermione kept looking back, her anger slowly turning into despair.
Magic!
She longed for the power of magic!
She was now like a helpless Muggle who had stumbled into the wizarding world, where magic was everywhere, yet she had none.
The old witch who brewed potions and guided her, the red cloak that exerted some influence over beastly monsters, even the forest she was in was helping her. When the werewolf ran almost as fast as a flying broom, the forest seemed to stretch endlessly, as if under an Undetectable Extension Charm, quickly becoming vaster, helping her to put distance between herself and the werewolf.
But it still couldn't stop the werewolf from getting closer and closer. Several times, she could almost smell the werewolf's warm breath, faintly tinged with a wild, musky scent.
If not for the incredible agility of the horse beneath her, constantly dodging and weaving, she would have long since met her end in the wolf's jaws.
Hermione soon noticed the horse's unusual appearance.
Silvery-white, translucent, with a long mane swaying in the wind like shimmering silver ribbons, and enveloped in silvery-white mist—this was a Patronus!
She could distinguish between a Patronus and a real animal, and she could also tell this was not her Patronus.
A free horse, an ardent horse, a wise yet playful horse... She wrapped her arms around the horse's neck, pressing her cheek against its body, distinctly feeling Professor Lockhart's presence.
She didn't know why Professor Lockhart's Patronus was protecting her, helping her escape the beast in the castle, helping her evade the werewolf's assault.
Professor Lockhart had clearly said that the Patronus Charm was always the best choice for resisting the erosion of dark forces; it had extreme universality. Yet such a Patronus wasn't protecting Professor Lockhart himself but had come to her.
So much magic surrounded her, but what about her own?
From the moment she received her Hogwarts acceptance letter until now, she had never been so frustrated, nor had she ever longed for magic so intensely.
She was so humble; she had never been so humble towards magic before, as if she were no longer casually using knowledge she had learned, but rather humbly pleading with magic.
"Magic, oh magic, please help me."
This was her first attempt to communicate with magic, or rather, to communicate with the magical presence within her body that she had always taken for granted.
Such an act was so unfamiliar to her.
Then, a miraculous scene unfolded.
She suddenly felt the presence of magic within her. She even found her wand appearing in her hand, the sensation so real.
She suddenly had this realization:
It had always been there; she had just often overlooked it.
It had always longed to communicate with her, but she had always ignored it, even disregarding its role in her spellcasting process. She had always only cared about the wisdom in books and the various incantations.
It was as her brilliant dentist father once told her, "It wasn't until I realized my talent in this area that I truly embarked on my life's journey." If one disregards natural talent and believes everything is achieved through effort, then one day they will misjudge their abilities, venture into areas where talent cannot compensate, yet still believe they can solve everything, and then suffer a major failure.
One must learn humility and reverence.
The proud Hermione understood humility and reverence for the first time.
Possessing magic and not possessing magic made a tremendous difference; the entire world became entirely different.
The most intuitive sensation was looking up to see a giant red cloak floating in the sky, faintly visible in the darkness, swaying in the wind as if clawing, confronting the Patronus Charms unleashed from different corners of the ground.
Yes, Hermione was surprised to discover that her friends had been there all along, and they were all fighting.
The situation had become so urgent. Silvery mist swirled in the sky, and Patronuses leaped and soared within it, confronting that red cloak.
Even though everyone was in different corners of this wondrous world, experiencing their own fairy tale adventures, they were fighting so closely together, all except her.
Then she discovered something even more chilling: that red cloak was on her!
Yes, it was a very strange feeling. She clearly felt that the red cloak on her body was exactly the same as the red cloak in the sky; even their swaying motions were identical!
She took a sharp breath, suddenly understanding why Professor Lockhart's Patronus had been protecting her all this time.
Because Professor Lockhart had already been at the forefront of the fight against that dark magic monster, the red cloak!
Hermione even had a strange illusion.
The terrifying werewolf behind her wasn't chasing her, but rather Professor Lockhart's Patronus and the red cloak on her. And the forest wasn't helping her, but helping them.
Yes, the forest was also fighting the werewolf, fighting this demon that sought to attack and devour everything!
She should play a part.
She was meant to play a part.
She brandished her wand, never before feeling such a real surge of magical power. It was a very unique connection, which gave her great confidence.
"Incarcerous!"
This was a spell suggested by Professor Lockhart and taught by Professor Snape, specifically designed to deal with large, physically resistant dark magical creatures.
Unfortunately, although she clearly felt that the strength of her spell was much, much greater than any she had cast before, it still couldn't break through the terrifying magical resistance of the werewolf before her.
This didn't surprise her. It was just her first attempt. Professor Lockhart had previously explained this in detail in class, instructing them to consider this point when using this spell against highly magically resistant monsters like Basilisks.
"Incarcerous!"
She cast the spell again, her purpose extremely clear.
In an instant, the thick snow on the ground, the leaf litter beneath it, and even the solid dirt ground exploded upwards.
The scene was as if an anti-tank landmine had been detonated underground. Even several very tall trees in the surrounding primeval forest were uprooted, crashing into each other as they were guided by magic to spin and invert, slamming into the werewolf.
But this seemed not to harm the werewolf in the slightest. The monster, shrouded in dark, smoky black flames, even after being hit by tree trunks that would take seven or eight people to encircle, seemed to be thrown off but completely unharmed.
Thankfully, this was enough to create distance between them.
As the Patronus horse beneath her galloped incredibly fast, she continuously destroyed everything in her path, blocking the werewolf, finally shaking it off completely.
The silver-white horse galloped, the red cloak fluttered in the snowflakes, and she quickly arrived at the beast's castle. She climbed back into the castle using the rope made of various bedsheets, finally letting out a sigh of relief.
After catching her breath, she quickly realized something. She pulled off the red cloak from her body, glanced at the sight of various Patronuses battling the red cloak in the sky outside the window, swallowed hard, and tried pointing her wand at the cloak.
She could always easily find the crux of the problem.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Silver light burst from the tip of her wand, howling as it circled in mid-air. A white ram with thick, long horns emerged from it.
This must be a ewe, yet it had the large, aggressive horns typically not found on female sheep.
I can cast a full Patronus Charm now!
Hermione's face broke into a happy smile, looking at the appearing Patronus with delight.
The ram, symbolizing the beginning of spring and new life, a fearless pioneer full of power and impulse, an intrepid spirit full of adventure and proactive pursuit of goals, and the astonishing wisdom to face everything with composure.
New life, courage, adventure, wisdom—these were the characteristics of her mind at this moment.
A wizard's Patronus Charm was not immutable. The books stated that when a wizard's mind changed, their Patronus would also change. There was even a romantic story recorded in books about a wizard who released the same Patronus for decades to express his feelings to a witch.
Of course, there were countless examples of Patronuses "dying" because the mind was completely eroded by dark forces.
Perhaps this was one of the results of Lockhart's transmigration.
Hermione was quietly walking on her unique magical path, and her mental power was beginning to show such interesting changes.
Her current state of mind was clearly no longer the otter from the original story, neither the metaphor of the otter with Harry Potter, nor the otter chasing Ron's Jack Russell terrier, fit.
She was simply herself.
Although still Harry and Ron's good friend, she was also embarking on her own adventure.
As the Patronus's power bloomed in the room, the red cloak lying on the floor instantly seemed enraged. It floated up, flailing wildly as if clawing.
Bang!
The door was forcefully pushed open, and a pale-faced, handsome young man looked at the scene before him with furious eyes, staring intently at Hermione. "How dare you cast such magic in my castle!"
Hermione, startled, quickly dismissed the Patronus Charm and snatched up the red cloak in front of her, about to put it on.
"You can never wear it again!"
The young man sneered at her. "Your heart no longer holds loneliness and insecurity. It is resisting you, and you are resisting it!"
He was right.
Hermione fumbled, trying to put the red cloak on, but no matter how she struggled, she found the cloak stubbornly dodging her.
"I—I—" Hermione quickly recovered from her panic, gripping her wand tightly. Yes, instead of trusting this cloak, she should trust her wand, trust the magical power within her!
"You won't attack me, even though I'm weaker than ever!"
The young man crossed his arms, glancing at the rope made of knotted bedsheets hanging from the windowsill. A slight smirk played on his lips. "I know you escaped my castle, but you came back."
"You need my help. I can feel your urgency, poor little witch. When faced with everything helplessly, one always yearns for the reliance on powerful external forces. Foolish, weak, pale and powerless."
Hermione simply threw down the red cloak that was struggling in her hands. With one hand, she yanked off the glass potion bottle hanging around her neck, and with the other, she tightly gripped her wand, pointing it at the young man. "Who are you?"
"I forgot!"
The young man's reply was utterly bewildering.
He seemed somewhat confused, looking around the castle and at the forest outside the window. "I feel incomplete. I can feel a terrible presence in the forest eyeing me, trying to devour me."
"I only remember my name—"
He earnestly told Hermione his name. "Tom Riddle!"
Tom Riddle?
Who?
Hermione didn't know this person. However, even though this man seemed domineering and arrogant, he also seemed approachable.
She was about to try communicating with him when she suddenly heard a piercing howl.
"Howl~~~"
The lone wolf howling at the moon, the entire forest trembled.
"It's here!" Tom Riddle's face changed. He looked out the window in terror. "That monster trying to devour me is here! Damn it, you led it here, didn't you?"
He was so angry. "You brought it to me when I'm at my weakest?"
....
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