Chapter 111: Three Idiots
Midnight.
Tamara and Hermione moved like two ghosts through the corridors, evading the patrols before silently pressing themselves against the oak doors of the Library.
Tamara had not yet unlocked the Disillusionment Charm, but that did not mean she had no way to deal with the alarm spells Madam Pince had set.
For a Dark Lord who had once studied the essence of magic to its limits, even the most basic spells could produce terrifying results under absolute precision, minute control, and theoretical superiority.
She drew her holly wand. In the darkness, her black eyes narrowed slightly, instantly seeing through the magical tripwires woven through the air like spiderwebs.
Behind her, Hermione nervously clutched her robes.
Miss Know It All had read in Hogwarts: A History that the security net Madam Pince had laid around the Library was extremely complicated. Even older students would find it difficult to sneak in without making a sound.
But as Tamara stood before the door, a trace of nostalgic mockery flickered in the depths of her dark eyes.
These alarm spells might be an insurmountable chasm to Hermione, but to Tamara, they were as crude as a wooden fence in her own back garden.
After all, more than fifty years ago, a Slytherin prefect named Tom Riddle had crossed through the moonlight countless times in this exact manner, easily bypassing these restrictions and slipping into the Restricted Section to pore over ancient tomes on soul splitting and the Dark Arts.
The librarians of Hogwarts had come and gone, but the foundation of the Library's defences had barely changed.
She knew every blind spot in the defensive runes on this door, and she remembered the weaving logic of every magical tripwire as clearly as if it were carved into her bones.
Therefore, she did not need any advanced counter spell, let alone a direct clash with the wards.
Tamara simply raised her holly wand with perfect calm. Relying on memories that were far too familiar, she found the weakest node in the magical net and traced two basic runes in the air.
"Confundo."
"Alohomora."
Two dim rays of light sank precisely into the lock and the surrounding tripwires.
The Confundo Charm did not break the array by force. Instead, it tampered directly with the underlying logic of the alarm magic, making those magical defences mistakenly believe that the person standing outside the door was Madam Pince herself.
Immediately after, Alohomora slipped in like an invisible steel needle, ignoring the rebounding spells attached to the door and silently mangling the mechanical structure inside the heavy brass keyhole.
The door opened smoothly, revealing a narrow crack.
Behind her, Hermione inhaled sharply, so shocked she almost forgot how to breathe.
A Confundo Charm and Alohomora?
Tamara had actually dismantled the Library's advanced protections with only two common spells.
What terrifying precision in magical control, and what profound understanding of the underlying magical structure, would that require?
The way Hermione looked at Tamara's back had completely changed from admiration to fervent reverence.
"Stay close," Tamara ordered in a low voice, not even glancing at Hermione's wide eyed, innocent expression as she pushed the door open and walked inside. "Do not step into the moonlight."
Hermione did not even dare breathe loudly as she followed close behind Tamara. The two successfully slipped into the pitch black Restricted Section.
Under the faint glow of Lumos, Hermione excitedly rushed toward the rows of chained ancient books and began searching in earnest.
Tamara leaned against a bookshelf in boredom, watching this foolish Gryffindor perform a futile task in a sea of books.
Just then, Tamara's keen hearing caught the faint sound of fabric brushing together, slowly approaching from the other end of the aisle.
Someone was there.
Her gaze sharpened. She instantly extinguished the Lumos on her wand and pulled Hermione behind her, her body tensing as her wand pointed straight ahead into the darkness.
The faint footsteps drew closer, yet no figure could be seen.
When they were less than a metre away, Tamara suddenly reached out with her left hand and decisively grabbed at the empty air.
"Ouch!"
"Bloody hell!"
Along with two suppressed cries, Tamara's hand yanked down a piece of fabric that rippled like water.
The next second, two messy haired, terrified heads appeared in midair without warning.
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
The four of them stared at one another in the pitch black Restricted Section, the air thick with strange, awkward silence.
"Harry? Ron?" Hermione nearly shrieked, then quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Hermione?"
Ron's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Then he saw the stony faced Tamara beside her.
"Tamara? What are you two doing here?"
"We're looking up information about the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione whispered urgently. Then her shocked gaze fell on the Invisibility Cloak in Harry's hand. "What about you? Why are you here?"
Harry scratched his head awkwardly. His gaze flickered over Tamara's cold face as he explained in a low, uncomfortable voice.
"We... we're here to look up information too. Something happened to Tamara's cat last night, and we wanted to help her find the heir hiding in the shadows."
Hearing this, Tamara closed her eyes in the darkness, her chest rising and falling sharply.
These Gryffindors, instead of sleeping in the middle of the night, had risked expulsion to come to the Restricted Section just to help her, the current Dark Lord, the true opener of the Chamber of Secrets, and the sole heir of Slytherin, catch that evil heir.
Was there anything more absurd in this world?
"Since our purpose is the same, shut up and search quickly."
Tamara squeezed the words through gritted teeth. She was afraid that if she heard one more touching declaration of friendship, she would not be able to stop herself from using Avada Kedavra to send these idiots away for good.
With the efficient and deeply self satisfied cooperation of the three little lions, they finally found a few scattered records about the Chamber of Secrets in a dusty, ancient school history book.
When they retreated, the four of them squeezed beneath the same Invisibility Cloak.
To avoid being exposed, Harry and Ron hunched their shoulders awkwardly, while Hermione pressed tightly against Tamara.
Tamara endured the three waves of vigorous adolescent heat belonging to the Gryffindors, her face so dark it looked ready to drip ink.
This farcical midnight adventure finally ended in the corridor outside Gryffindor Tower.
Without a second thought, Tamara shook off the three lingering idiots and returned alone down the dim staircases to the Slytherin Dungeons.
When she tiredly pushed open the secret door hidden behind the stone wall of the Slytherin Common Room, she found that the dim fireplace inside was still glowing.
Draco Malfoy, with his platinum hair, was sitting on a wide sofa in his pyjamas.
Around him were piles of crumpled, discarded parchment, and several exhausted owls lay on the table.
He was holding a quill and vigorously crossing out names with red marks on a long list.
Hearing the door open, Draco looked up sharply. The moment he saw who it was, his grey eyes instantly lit up.
"Tamara! You're back!"
.....
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