Chapter 78: Making the Most of Resources
The Troll's chamber connected to the next trial by way of a rather ordinary-looking wooden door.
Before Tamara could even push it open, however, the door was suddenly flung wide from the other side.
A mass of bushy brown hair burst out first, nearly colliding with her.
"Ouch!"
Hermione Granger let out a startled cry, still clutching an empty bottle in her hand.
The moment she recognized Tamara, the panic on her face gave way to overwhelming relief and joy.
"Tamara! Merlin, you're here too!"
Her voice trembled with emotion, as though she had just seen a savior.
"Harry... Harry's already gone in! The last obstacle is a logic puzzle with Potions, but there's only enough for one person! He drank it and went after Snape, and told me to go back and find Dumbledore!"
She raised the empty bottle in her hand as if it were proof.
"I was just about to go to the Owlery and send a message to Dumbledore!"
"Send a message?"
Tamara's eyes narrowed slightly.
If this little know-it-all managed to summon Dumbledore back now, all the preparations she had made would be wasted.
If that old fool arrived at this moment, not only would she lose her chance to claim the Philosopher's Stone, but she would also be forced to continue acting like a genuinely righteous student.
Absolutely not.
"No, Hermione."
Tamara caught Hermione by the shoulders and stopped her, her tone grave and urgent.
"Dumbledore is in London. An owl would take too long. By the time he returned, everything would already be over."
Then she pointed back toward the Troll's chamber behind her.
"And Ron is still lying in there."
"I gave him some basic treatment when I passed through, but he still isn't safe. The Troll could wake up at any moment, and those chess pieces might attack him again."
She fixed Hermione with a steady gaze, already beginning her moral manipulation.
"You're the only friend who can help him right now, Hermione."
Her voice lowered.
"Can you really leave him alone on that cold floor while you run off to send a letter?"
Hermione's face turned white at once.
"Ron... Oh, my goodness, Ron!"
She had been so focused on the larger crisis that she had completely forgotten about her unconscious friend.
With Tamara's reminder, guilt hit her immediately.
"Then what should I do? But Harry is in there..." Hermione asked helplessly, torn between two duties.
"Leave Harry to me."
Tamara released her shoulders, straightened her collar, and spoke with calm certainty.
"Your task now is to take Ron to Madam Pomfrey at once. As for the Dark Wizard inside..."
She drew her wand, her gaze resolute.
"I'll deal with him."
Hermione nodded hard and turned to go, but then suddenly stopped.
A glint of suspicion flashed in her sharp eyes.
"Wait, Tamara... how did you know something would happen tonight?"
The question was precise.
Tamara did not blink.
She had already prepared her answer.
A composed, knowing expression settled over her face.
"Because I've been watching Quirrell."
Tamara lowered her voice as though sharing a dangerous secret.
"When I went to ask him a question in his office this afternoon, I saw a piece of parchment on his desk. It had notes about how to get past Fluffy, some writing about the Philosopher's Stone, and a marked time."
"I knew he was going to make his move tonight, so I followed him."
It was a flawless lie.
It explained why she was here, cast her as a lone protector, and placed all suspicion squarely on Quirrell.
The doubt in Hermione's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by pure admiration.
"So that's it... you're amazing, Tamara." Hermione sniffed. "And we were being complete fools for suspecting Snape..."
"Enough. There's no time for that now."
Tamara gave her a light push.
"Hurry."
"But..." Hermione pointed anxiously toward the room beyond. "The Potion to pass through the black fire is already gone. Harry drank it. You can't get in!"
"There's no room a Slytherin cannot enter."
A proud smile touched the corner of Tamara's mouth.
"Don't measure me by your standards, Miss Granger."
Without waiting for another reply, she turned away from Hermione and pushed open the door to the chamber filled with purple and black flames.
Behind her, Hermione watched her go with a mixture of awe and worry before hurrying back toward Ron.
The Potion Puzzle Chamber was silent and still.
Seven bottles of different shapes stood on a table in the middle of the room.
At one end, purple flames blocked the retreat.
At the other, black flames barred the way forward.
Tamara approached the table and cast a brief glance over the parchment riddle.
"'Danger lies before you, safety behind... second left and second right...'"
She tossed the parchment aside in open contempt.
"Snape is still obsessed with word games."
A puzzle like this might challenge a Muggle-born first year.
For Lord Voldemort, who had always considered his Potions mastery superior to Snape's, it was beneath insult.
She did not even need the riddle.
By uncorking the bottles and smelling them, she could tell which one held poison, which held wine, and which one granted passage forward.
Very quickly, her gaze settled on the smallest, roundest bottle.
That was the one meant to pass through the black flames.
However, just as Hermione had said, it was empty.
Tamara turned it upside down and gave it a slight shake.
One single drop clung to the rim.
Just one.
A clear remnant of the Potion.
Harry Potter's leftover scrap.
Tamara stared at it, and for the first time in a while, her expression began to twist with physical revulsion.
The system spoke at once.
[Ding! System notification: insufficient quantity of key item detected. Automatically enhancing the Potion dosage for you.]
[In other words, if you simply lick the rim, that one drop will be enough to let you pass through the flames.]
[For the sake of the greater mission, please do not be troubled by such a minor hygiene issue!]
"Shut up!"
Tamara practically screamed.
She hurled the bottle to the ground.
Crack.
Glass shattered across the floor.
"I would sooner burn to death in Fiendfyre than touch anything Potter has put his mouth on!"
She took two slow breaths, then turned her eyes back toward the roaring wall of black flame.
Silence filled the chamber once more.
The problem remained.
How was she supposed to get through?
This was Dark Magic fire.
A barrier left by Snape to prevent theft.
Without the Potion, forcing her way through was nearly suicidal.
Tamara's eyes moved thoughtfully around the room.
Nothing could truly obstruct the Dark Lord.
If she could not personally endure the flames, then she would use something with thicker skin to bear the cost for her.
She turned and looked back through the purple fire into the previous chamber.
The Troll she had Petrified still lay where it had fallen.
"A bit filthy..."
A cruel smile curved her lips.
"But a perfectly suitable shield."
She moved at once.
No hesitation.
Her wand rose again.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
In the room beyond, the multi-ton Troll slowly lifted into the air once more.
Still rigid from the Full Body Bind Curse, it floated upright into the Potion chamber like a grotesque human shield.
"Go."
Tamara pointed her wand.
The motionless Troll lurched forward and slammed directly into the wall of black fire.
Sizzle.
The moment its thick hide touched the flames, a revolting searing sound filled the room.
The stench of burning flesh exploded through the cramped chamber.
Trolls possessed tough skin and high resistance to magic, but even they could not ignore flames of this intensity.
That suited Tamara perfectly.
The black fire rushed to consume the Troll's bulk, and for a brief moment, a narrow pocket of safety opened beneath and behind the flames.
"Now."
Tamara showed not the slightest pity.
Using the Troll's enormous body as cover, she slipped through the gap it created like a shadow passing through a crack in the night.
[Ding! Warning!]
[Detected that host is engaging in extremely cruel abuse of a rare magical creature!]
[Using a sentient being as a disposable object and throwing it into fire like this is simply...]
Tamara cut off the system's protest with cold contempt.
"...simply making the most of resources."
.....
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