Chapter 154: Action
Although Tamara's threat was weak, every word sounded as if it had been squeezed out through her teeth, carrying a chilling sense of dread.
Harry swallowed, feeling a chill run down his spine.
He had no doubt that if he actually managed to knock over that cauldron of potion, Tamara would use her last breath to throw him onto the Astronomy Tower and leave him there to be blown about by the wind for the rest of his life.
"Don't worry, Riddle."
Harry took a deep breath, rolled up his sleeves, and carefully picked up the long handled ladle.
His movements were gentle, as though he were afraid of splashing even a single drop of the precious liquid.
Tamara, meanwhile, leaned against the doorframe and watched everything with cold eyes.
Although the disgusting high fever had receded slightly, her body was still weak and aching, as if someone had removed all her bones.
Watching the foolish saviour, who usually only flew around wildly on a broomstick, now working for her as obediently as a house elf, Tamara felt not a shred of accomplishment, but an unprecedented wave of disgust toward herself.
It was too humiliating.
It was a complete disgrace to the Dark Lord's reputation.
She had actually lost her composure in front of such an idiot.
And she even needed to rely on such a crude threat to cover up her incompetence.
"It must be this damned body..."
Tamara cursed viciously in her mind.
Since her rebirth, her emotions had been like an uncontrollable wild horse, becoming increasingly sensitive, irritable, and even overly concerned with saving face.
That peculiar emotional fluctuation was slowly eroding the reason and coldness she prided herself on.
Tamara even suspected that the system was tampering with her body.
It was not as if she had never experienced this age before.
In her previous life, even during the most restless years of adolescence, she had been calmer than most of her peers.
Anger?
Impulsiveness?
Those useless emotions had been suppressed deep within her heart by reason, without even a spark allowed to leak out.
Back then, she had been the perfect Tom Riddle, the model student in the eyes of every professor. Elegant, modest, and reserved.
She could pour tea for a professor with the most charming smile while calmly plotting in her mind how to turn that person into a Horcrux.
Of course...
Except for that old man Dumbledore.
Only under the gaze of those eyes that seemed capable of seeing through the soul would she occasionally lose her composure, revealing a trace of annoyance and disgust.
But even then, she had never felt this out of control.
This was definitely not normal.
"Damned body... making me impulsive like a Gryffindor."
Tamara closed her eyes, suppressing the irritating emotion, and her gaze regained its dead stillness.
Regardless, the potion had been brewed.
As long as that remnant soul was stripped away, she could be rid of all this trouble.
"It seems... I must escape this state of being controlled by others as soon as possible."
Just then, Harry capped the crystal vial and let out a long sigh of relief.
"All done, Tamara."
He turned around, holding up the bottle full of potion with a slight smile on his face.
"Not a single drop spilled. Now... do you need me to help you back?"
Tamara glanced at him coldly.
She had recovered a little strength. Although her steps were still unsteady, at least she no longer needed support.
"No need."
Tamara took the potion vial and flatly refused.
"When are you planning to give the potion to Ginny?"
Seeing Tamara turn to leave, Harry could not help asking.
"Do you need Ron and me to help hold her down? If it's really as serious as you said, she might resist..."
"Don't think too highly of yourself, Potter."
Tamara stopped, turned around, and looked at him with a cold indifference that kept people at a distance.
"This is Slytherin's business. You don't need to interfere."
She absolutely would not let Harry see the scene of her forcing the potion down Ginny's throat to exorcise the demon, nor did she want to explain what the stripped out remnant soul actually was.
That was her secret.
"Your task is over. The deal is complete."
Tamara lifted her chin, restoring her haughty, queenly demeanour.
"Take your Invisibility Cloak and get back to your lion's den. Don't make me say it a second time."
With that, she turned and left without looking back, leaving Harry with a resolute and lonely silhouette.
Harry stood in place, stunned by the scolding.
Instead of getting angry, he revealed a somewhat helpless wry smile.
"Still so awkward..."
He sighed, pulled his Invisibility Cloak tighter, turned, and vanished into the dark corridor.
"But at least I helped her this time. Overall... it's a good thing, right?"
Gryffindor Tower.
When Harry tiptoed back into the dormitory, a strong smell of potion drifted in with him.
The smell was very distinct, carrying a nauseating sweet fishiness along with a cold, rotten scent.
That was the unique odour of the Soul Separation Potion.
"Hmm... Harry?"
Ron, on the adjacent bed, was woken by the smell. He rubbed his eyes groggily.
"Mate... did you fall into Snape's cauldron? Why does it smell like a rotten bog?"
Harry froze and quickly stuffed the Invisibility Cloak into his trunk.
"Nothing."
Harry buried his head in the pillow and mumbled vaguely.
"I was... practising spells. Maybe I used too much Slug Repellent Gel."
Tamara definitely did not want more people to know about this.
It was their secret.
"Oh... then wash up and go to sleep..."
Ron rolled over and fell asleep again.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
He was too tired. He did not even bother changing out of the pyjamas still carrying the smell of potion steam and simply collapsed into bed.
The smell lingered in the air, spreading through the entire room and even reaching the common room.
A few hours later.
The first ray of morning sunlight shone into the Gryffindor Common Room.
Ginny Weasley had woken up early.
She was holding two freshly toasted slices of bread and a jar of special beef paste, excitedly preparing to make a loving sandwich for Senior Tamara, who, despite her sharp tongue, truly needed looking after.
"I must make her finish it today..."
Ginny hummed a little tune as she walked through the common room.
Suddenly, her steps halted.
A faint scent drifted through the air.
It was faint, yet it made the thing deep within her soul feel utterly terrified.
It was a deadly poison targeting the soul.
It was the scent of an enemy.
"What is this..."
Ginny's pupils contracted sharply, and her usually bright brown eyes instantly turned hollow and icy.
The remnant soul of the diary, slumbering inside her, had awakened.
It had smelled the scent of death.
Someone had created something that could kill it.
This potion, filled with malice and precision, was absolutely intended to strip its soul from this perfect vessel and then destroy it.
"Who... who wants to kill me?"
The remnant soul sensed an unprecedented threat.
It could not sit still and wait for death.
It had to act immediately.
Before it was cleansed by that terrifying concoction, it had to complete the ritual of resurrection.
Thud.
The toast and beef paste in Ginny's hands fell to the floor, and the knife cut across her palm.
But she showed no reaction.
Her body, now completely controlled, turned with stiff and rapid steps and walked toward the girls' bathroom on the second floor.
.....
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