"Apple pie."
Hermione said sadly as the ugly, stone-like gargoyle in front of her jumped aside.
A movable wooden staircase swung into place before her.
She slowly climbed the wooden steps, one by one.
Then she pushed open the slightly ajar door.
The furnishings inside seemed untouched. Several rustic wooden boxes sat on the solid-wood desk, while everything else was arranged in an orderly fashion. A quill lay quietly on a piece of parchment.
Perhaps the old man had been working here not long ago.
A new portrait had joined the ranks of the deceased Headmasters of Hogwarts.
Dumbledore lay sleeping peacefully in a golden frame above the desk, his crescent-moon spectacles resting on his aquiline nose, his expression calm and serene.
But this was merely an inanimate painting, not a conscious portrait.
"Ah, you ugly little Mudblood! What have you been doing in this room that you've woken me up?"
The portrait on the wall spoke viciously.
"Who?"
Hermione only then realized that she had entered the room, and heard her former Headmaster, Phineas, shouting at her.
"Be gentle with the little girl."
Another plump, kindly-looking woman also woke up. She wore a gorgeous shawl wrapped tightly around herself and tried to persuade Phineas to calm down.
"Where is Dumbledore? Was he driven away? I haven't seen him for almost half a year."
Phineas ignored the woman's advice and asked Hermione directly.
"Professor Dumbledore was ambushed by Voldemort and fell through the veil in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. He's dead."
Hermione wiped her eyes and said sadly.
"Oh, he's dead? That's perfect. I've been needing a companion."
Phineas laughed, then looked around as though he wanted to stick his head out of the picture frame.
"How about staying here with me? There's still room."
Some of Hogwarts' Headmasters had chosen, after death, to remain in their portraits, retaining part of the consciousness they had possessed in life.
Unlike that lifeless portrait of Dumbledore.
Hermione wanted to say a few words to him, but she respected the Headmaster's decision.
"He wouldn't choose to remain in a portrait. Death isn't something he feared. As he said, it was a great adventure."
Hermione spoke softly.
"Where are they?"
She suddenly turned around and realized that Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen.
The two of them should have been following behind her the entire time.
She glanced at the carpet from the corner of her eye.
Dust had accumulated there.
Then her pupils suddenly contracted.
She saw a footprint.
It hadn't been there before, and the footprint was larger than hers.
It was probably a man's.
Only now did she also realize that the wooden door had been slightly ajar when she entered.
A cold sweat broke out across her body, but she tried her best to remain calm.
Hermione drew her wand and cautiously opened the cabinet.
There was nothing inside.
"Could it be my imagination?"
Hermione deliberately muttered to herself as she turned around and walked toward the other end of the room.
Then she suddenly stopped.
She turned around, raised her wand, and quickly pointed it toward the seemingly empty cabinet.
"Stupefy!"
The spell shot out.
But Hermione's heart sank.
She could tell that her spell had missed its target.
Her wand was suddenly seized and lifted high before being forced upward. It struck the top of the cabinet, sending splinters flying everywhere.
The entire cabinet began to shake violently.
There really was someone inside!
Even though Hermione had been extremely careful, a powerful force suddenly pulled her off balance and dragged her into the cabinet.
It was pitch-black inside, and she instantly lost her vision.
"Lumos..."
She instinctively tried to illuminate the darkness, but the wrist holding her wand was firmly restrained, interrupting the movement.
The spell was also broken.
"You..."
Hermione wanted to question the person who had attacked her, but then discovered that her mouth had been covered.
A rough hand pressed tightly against her lips, preventing her from making a sound.
She began twisting her body and struggling desperately.
Who could be hiding in Dumbledore's office at a time like this?
And what did he want to do?
She was being held horizontally in his arms. One of her hands was tightly restrained, while the other still clutched her wand, which she dared not release.
Unable to move, Hermione instinctively used her teeth as a weapon.
She bit down hard, trying to resist and force him to release her because of the pain.
Sure enough, the person holding her loosened his grip.
The pressure on her wrist disappeared instantly.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
Just as she prepared to retaliate, however, she felt a sharp pain in her neck.
Her consciousness faded, and she fell into a deep sleep.
Malfoy immediately took the opportunity to leave the cabinet, rubbing his hand as he did so.
He really hadn't expected to be this unlucky.
He hadn't expected someone's senses to be so sharp that she would discover his hiding place so quickly.
He had been opening the cabinet to look for something when he heard someone enter the room and speak the password outside.
Malfoy had instinctively hidden inside, not wanting to cause any more trouble.
When someone approached the cabinet, he also cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself.
In the cramped, pitch-black space, movement was extremely difficult.
He couldn't even draw his wand from his sleeve to deal with the situation, let alone aim it properly.
He could only cast the spell silently.
So when he was discovered, he had no choice but to subdue her using purely physical means.
Now that he had some breathing room, he could finally open the cabinet properly, let the light in, and examine the face of the person standing before him.
Malfoy's expression immediately changed to one of astonishment.
His gray pupils widened, and the corners of his lips twitched slightly.
What a coincidence.
He fell into thought for a moment.
In just a few months, this stubborn and independent girl had matured considerably.
The contours of her face were no longer as soft as before, having become slightly sharper. She had shed some of her youthful immaturity and acquired a more mature air.
Hermione was almost like his nemesis.
She seemed to become a variable whenever she appeared, causing some degree of interference with his plans.
Fortunately, nothing had ever become too serious.
Staring at the neat row of teeth marks near the base of his thumb, Malfoy inexplicably drifted into thought.
He remembered that Hermione used to have a pair of prominent front teeth.
Now they were perfectly aligned.
The sensation from the bite, both itchy and painful, traveled along the wound to his nerves, accompanied by a faint tingling.
He conjured a delicate rope and bound Hermione, leaving the wooden door slightly ajar so that she wouldn't feel too suffocated.
The ropes could be broken with only a little force, and the Transfiguration would automatically wear off once the allotted time had passed.
"Hey, kid! What are you doing?"
Phineas finally noticed Malfoy and roared.
Although he could only see Malfoy from behind, the former Headmaster, despite having called Hermione a Mudblood, was still someone who had been dead for many years.
As a former Headmaster, he ultimately couldn't stand by and watch a student being attacked in front of him.
"Oh my God! Who are you?"
The plump woman screamed.
But she could do little more than shout a few times.
A portrait could never truly emerge from the canvas.
"Shut up, you noisy old man!"
Malfoy spoke in a low voice and casually tossed Hermione's wand behind him.
The wand flew through the air and became firmly embedded in the wall.
Its handle trembled incessantly.
Phineas screamed in fright.
Malfoy ignored him.
Instead, he simply pushed open the door and walked out.