Chapter 108: An Accident
Late at night, Hogwarts Castle sank into deathly silence.
In the Slytherin Dungeons dormitory, Tamara Riddle stared expressionlessly at the stiff black cat lying flat on the table.
Because of the incident involving her beloved pet that evening, she had successfully displayed the vulnerability of a perfect victim. Out of sympathy for Slytherin's uncrowned king, the prefect had even taken the initiative to ask Professor Snape for permission to give her a private dormitory without roommates, so she could process her grief alone.
That suited her next move perfectly.
She certainly was not kind enough to save the cat immediately.
Tamara knew very well that if she cured a cat petrified by such advanced Dark Arts, Dumbledore would invite her to the Headmaster's office for tea the very next day.
Even worse, if similar incidents occurred in the future, every petrified Mudblood in the school would likely be brought to her door for moral blackmail.
"Just stay here as a quiet ornament for now, until those idiot Professors manage to grow the Mandrakes."
Tamara calculated coldly, then slid a small silver knife from her sleeve.
The only thing that interested her now was extracting the residual magical traces from this stupid cat.
Through those faint fluctuations, she could precisely assess how much life force that sixteen year old soul fragment had absorbed, and how dangerously far its magic had recovered.
Tamara focused as she pressed the blade against the black cat's stiff forehead, preparing to scrape away a small amount of fur eroded by the curse.
However, the accident happened at that exact moment.
The Basilisk's petrifying magic was exceptionally domineering, making the cat's fur as hard as Dragon scales.
Even worse, a sinister magical rebound had been left behind by the diary, as if it were deliberately showing off.
The moment the blade applied pressure, two sources of magic, originating from the same root yet rejecting each other, collided violently.
Tamara felt her wrist go numb. The sharp silver knife slipped at once, slicing across her left index finger.
"Hiss..."
Driven by pure magic, a drop of blood glowing faintly gold, like molten metal, flew uncontrollably from the wound and landed squarely on the black cat's nose.
That was the Golden Bloodline forcibly bestowed upon her by the system. It contained immense magic and served as an extremely precious alchemical material.
As a top class magical medium, Tamara would secretly extract and store this golden blood in specialized Potion bottles every month.
But out of the Dark Lord's bone deep caution and suspicion, she always kept one final drop of golden blood inside her body as an absolute trump card, reserved for a near fatal crisis or a last counterattack.
And now.
That life preserving trump card had actually been flung onto this stupid cat's nose because of a damned magical rebound.
Tamara's pupils contracted sharply.
"Damn it."
But it was too late.
The golden drop of blood seemed to possess a life of its own, instantly seeping into the black cat's fur.
Immediately afterward, a faint golden halo rippled outward like a wave. Wherever it passed, the grey petrified stiffness melted away as quickly as snow beneath a blazing sun.
In Nagini's chaotic memories, she only remembered that she had originally been wandering the first floor corridors that night.
Then her keen animal senses had suddenly caught a trace of a familiar yet strangely hostile aura.
It was the scent of the Dark Lord, but it definitely did not belong to the master before her.
Driven by an instinct carved deep into her soul, the black cat silently followed the scent.
She tracked it all the way near the second floor bathroom. Hiding in the shadows, she saw with her own eyes the red haired little girl's eerie, frantic movements, as well as the eye searing blood being smeared across the wall.
Just as she arched her back, bared her claws, and prepared to pounce on the fool who dared run wild in her master's territory, a pair of enormous yellow vertical pupils abruptly reflected from the puddles on the floor.
Then she became a senseless piece of stone.
So when she was forcibly awakened by the golden blood and caught a dazed glimpse of Tamara's familiar face, a twisted logic unique to Nagini began operating in her already muddled feline brain.
Wait.
Why did Master not petrify that stupid red haired girl? Why was I chosen to endure this punishment?
A strange shiver suddenly ran through her furry body.
Oh, this must be special treatment!
In Nagini's fanatical understanding, even punishment from the Master was a supreme honour.
It proved that in Master's eyes, she was always the most special one, worthy of Master's personal attention and discipline.
Her original grievance instantly transformed into a morbid sense of being touched.
"Meow!"
As if injected with adrenaline, Nagini suddenly sprang up from the table. Her limbs trembled as she lunged at Tamara, rubbing her head frantically against Tamara's fingers.
A string of morbidly excited cries spilled from her throat.
Master! You finally noticed me! Punish me again! Whatever is your will!
However, this cross species expression fell upon Tamara's ears as nothing more than a stream of piercing meows.
Tamara could not understand cat language at all. All her thoughts were currently fixed on that fatal drop of golden blood.
Looking at this lively, stupid cat, she felt only a headache.
She had actually cured this dead cat because of a low level mistake.
"If Dumbledore asks tomorrow..."
Tamara's mind worked rapidly, swiftly constructing a flawless explanation.
She would tell everyone it had been a complete, unrepeatable accident.
Because the cat had not been fully petrified, it was not incurable.
Just now, the stiff cat had accidentally rolled off the table and smashed the cauldron she had used to brew ordinary cold medicine. The various Potion residues had mixed with the cat's own stress response and happened to break through the incomplete curse.
It was a rare magical reaction with a probability of only one in ten million.
It was absolutely not because Tamara Riddle possessed any miraculous healing skill.
If all else failed, she only had to stare with innocent eyes, activate Harmless, and pretend she knew nothing.
Everything could be bluffed through.
"Shut up, you fool."
Tamara shook off the cat's head in disgust, a dangerous cold light flickering in her pitch black eyes.
"If you dare run around like a headless fly again, I will turn you into a specimen."
Nagini wanted to whimper twice more in grievance.
But Tamara had completely lost her patience. She gave a perfunctory flick of her wand.
"Stupefy."
A silent red light struck the black cat precisely on the forehead.
Nagini's eyes rolled back, and she slumped quietly onto the table, letting out faint snores.
Tamara took a deep breath and casually applied a healing spell to her bleeding fingertip.
Since this troublesome thing had been accidentally cured, she now had to confirm her situation immediately.
In Hogwarts, even the smallest abnormality could attract the gaze of that old madman.
"System," Tamara said in her mind. "Immediately show me Albus Dumbledore's current suspicion level toward me. I need to know whether tonight's accident has alerted him."
[Ding! Query successful!]
The system's cheerful electronic voice rang out at once.
[Albus Dumbledore's current suspicion level toward you is: 10%. Though some suspicion is inevitable due to your personality and appearance, it still falls under extremely trusting and filled with elder's affection!]
Tamara's brow furrowed sharply. Astonishment flashed in the depths of her dark eyes.
"Ten percent?"
How could it be so low?
She had indeed lowered Dumbledore's guard through a series of perfect disguises, but before the Halloween feast, that old man's suspicion level had definitely still been at a dangerous warning line.
How could there be such a sudden drop?
"What happened? When did his suspicion level fall?" Tamara asked sharply.
[Oh, host, did you forget?]
The system's voice was leisurely, carrying a hint of taking credit.
[It was just a few days ago! In the Room of Requirement, you held that deeply moving cross house extracurricular tutoring session for students from all four houses with great love. After Headmaster Dumbledore learned of this, his prejudice against you completely melted away!]
Room of Requirement.
Those words were like a bucket of ice water pouring from the crown of Tamara's head down to the soles of her feet.
A terrifying chill surged up her spine.
The Room of Requirement was one of Hogwarts' deepest secret spaces.
How could Dumbledore know what she had been doing inside?
Portraits.
Ghosts.
Or perhaps the room itself, in some form, was part of Dumbledore's hidden surveillance network.
That old thing's reach was actually that long.
If she had not been teaching those fools, but had instead been openly recovering Ravenclaw's diadem...
Tamara gripped her wand tightly, her knuckles turning white from extreme fear and anger.
"Such fatal intelligence!" Tamara roared through gritted teeth in her mind. "Dumbledore's suspicion level dropping significantly means he was tracking my movements. Why didn't you alert me immediately then?"
[Ding...]
The system's voice suddenly became aggrieved, even faintly pretentious.
[How can you blame me, host? At that time, I had just issued the rewards to you and was about to broadcast this hidden log, but you quite fiercely shouted "shut up" at me in your mind.]
[As an incredibly considerate system that absolutely obeys the host's commands, since you didn't want to hear it, I naturally had to swallow those words back into my stomach.]
"..."
Tamara stood in place, her chest heaving violently.
If this damned system had a physical form, she would absolutely use the cruelest Dark Arts to tear it into ten thousand pieces right now.
.....
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