Chapter 190: Don't Overwork Yourself
That afternoon, in the Ancient Runes classroom.
The atmosphere was even gloomier than it had been in Arithmancy that morning.
Heavy velvet curtains covered half the windows, leaving the room illuminated by the dim flicker of candlelight.
Professor Bathsheda Babbling, a witch with thick spectacles and an almost fanatical fascination with ancient inscriptions, stood at the front of the classroom enthusiastically explaining a set of fifteenth century sacrificial runes.
Tamara listlessly twirled her quill between her fingers.
Boring.
She had studied all of this fifty years ago.
Even after half a century, practically nothing had changed.
Her gaze casually drifted across the aisle.
Hermione looked dreadful.
Miss Know it all, who normally sat with her back perfectly straight, was practically collapsed over her parchment.
Tamara narrowed her eyes.
If she remembered correctly, third years also had Divination and Muggle Studies scheduled around this time.
Hermione had proudly announced that she had enrolled in every available subject.
Tamara had originally assumed that was merely the arrogant boasting of a Mudblood.
Yet judging from Hermione's condition, she really was somehow attending two or even three classes at once.
That fundamentally violated the ordinary laws of time and space.
Tamara's gaze sharpened and fell upon Hermione's collar.
Beneath the slightly loosened neckline of her school robes, a thin golden chain was barely visible.
A Time Turner.
Tamara's pupils contracted.
Shock flashed through her eyes, immediately followed by greed.
That mad old man Dumbledore had actually approved the use of a Time Turner for a student merely so she could attend several additional classes?
An object capable of manipulating time itself, entrusted to a thirteen year old girl for academic scheduling?
What an outrageous waste of something so precious.
Tamara's breathing quickened for an instant.
If an artefact capable of manipulating time fell into her hands, she would possess an extraordinary margin for error.
More importantly, it could open possibilities for experiments that had previously been impossible.
I must obtain it.
The decision formed instantly.
Tamara was already considering how she might persuade Hermione to surrender the artefact without leaving any trace of coercion when Professor Babbling suddenly raised her voice.
"All right, everyone. Let us examine this tablet."
Professor Babbling carefully removed the black cloth covering an object on the front desk.
Beneath it stood an ancient stone tablet covered in dark red markings.
"This sacrificial tablet was unearthed from deep within the Black Forest only last month. Several extremely old defensive curses still linger upon it."
Her gaze moved through the classroom.
"Miss Granger, translate the core runes on the third line for us."
Hermione jolted upright.
She stood in a panic, blinking her bloodshot eyes several times as she stared at the tablet.
"This... this is Ehwaz..."
Her voice sounded faint.
"It represents... the sacrificer's trust in the gods..."
Professor Babbling frowned.
A hint of disappointment crossed her face.
Tamara sneered inwardly.
That was clearly Eihwaz, associated here with yew, death, and defence.
Granger was so exhausted that she could no longer distinguish between two of the most basic similar looking runes.
Tamara was just preparing to enjoy the spectacle when a familiar voice exploded inside her mind.
[Ding! A diligent student has been detected on the verge of collapse from overwork!]
[The pursuit of knowledge may be endless, but physical wellbeing is essential! As one of Hogwarts' shining examples, please demonstrate friendship by offering gentle academic guidance and helping relieve your classmate's exhaustion!]
[Reward: Life +1.]
[Punishment: If the Host stands by and does nothing, the System will forcibly take control of your body, walk you over to Hermione Granger in front of the entire class, and make you sing her a heartfelt lullaby.]
"..."
Tamara's expression darkened.
She rose from her seat beneath the puzzled gazes of the surrounding Slytherins.
"Professor, allow me to supplement Miss Granger's translation."
With that, Tamara walked toward Hermione's desk with elegant steps that somehow carried the air of someone approaching an execution.
Hermione stared nervously at her.
For a moment, she clearly suspected Tamara had come over simply to mock her.
Tamara did not even look at her.
Her attention remained fixed upon the tablet.
"That is not Ehwaz. It is Eihwaz."
Her voice was low and steady.
"In this inscription, it represents death and absolute defence."
Tamara's eyes moved across the ancient markings.
"The complete phrase means: By the shadow of death, deny the gaze of the living."
"Perfect! Absolutely correct!"
Professor Babbling clapped delightedly.
"Five points to Slytherin!"
As applause spread through the classroom, Tamara leaned slightly over Hermione's desk, apparently helping gather the parchments scattered across its surface.
At the same time, a small transparent glass vial slipped from her sleeve and was pressed neatly into Hermione's palm.
It contained a Lesser Invigoration Potion that Tamara had casually refined while brewing more advanced potions.
A tiny trace of residue from her golden bloodline experiments had also been mixed into it.
To Tamara, such a thing was worthless waste.
To an ordinary witch or wizard, however, it was an exceptionally effective restorative potion capable of rapidly soothing mental exhaustion and inducing deep, restorative sleep.
The System only required her to provide academic guidance and ease Hermione's fatigue.
But Tamara's calculations went considerably further.
If she simply reached out and tore the Time Turner from Granger's neck, the System would undoubtedly punish her in some spectacularly humiliating fashion.
So she could not steal it.
She needed Granger to hand it over willingly.
Preferably while feeling grateful for the opportunity.
Tamara leaned closer to Hermione's ear.
The cool scent of cedar surrounding her seemed to wash over Hermione's exhausted senses.
"Your time..." Tamara murmured, so quietly that only Hermione could hear, "appears to pass rather differently from everyone else's, Granger."
Hermione's pupils contracted sharply.
Tamara had seen through it.
Not only that, but she had done so instantly.
"If I were you, Granger," Tamara continued softly, "I would drink this potion, return to your dormitory, and sleep for twelve hours rather than remain here draining what little strength you have left."
Tamara pressed the vial firmly into Hermione's hand.
Then she straightened and returned to her seat.
Hermione remained frozen, staring at the faintly shimmering potion in her palm, her thoughts in complete disorder.
Had any other Slytherin handed her an unidentified potion, Hermione would never have considered drinking it.
There was no telling what might have been inside.
But this was Tamara.
Hermione simply could not imagine Tamara using such a petty method to harm her.
If the proud and frightening Miss Riddle truly intended to do something to her, she hardly needed to rely upon a tiny bottle of potion.
The exhaustion buried deep inside Hermione's mind finally overwhelmed her hesitation.
She removed the stopper.
Then she tipped her head back and drank the entire vial.
A second later, the potion took effect.
Hermione's head tilted sideways.
Then she collapsed onto her folded arms and fell immediately into a deep, peaceful sleep.
[Ding! Reward issued: Life +1. Current Life: 37.]
[System Evaluation: Your words may be sharp enough to cut someone, but that potion was filled with genuine care! Host, you really are adorable!]
"Get lost."
Tamara answered coldly inside her mind.
Several nearby Gryffindors jumped in alarm and were about to shout when Tamara spoke calmly toward the front of the room.
"Professor, Miss Granger appears to have fallen asleep from excessive studying. I gave her a mild restorative potion."
"Oh, poor girl. She really is pushing herself far too hard."
Professor Babbling looked at Hermione sympathetically.
"Let her sleep."
Then she turned an approving gaze toward Tamara.
"Well done, Miss Riddle. Very considerate."
Tamara's expression remained perfectly neutral.
Professor Babbling, however, seemed to become even more enthusiastic.
"Since you understand the inscription so well, Miss Riddle, why don't you come forward and try touching the tablet with your magic?"
She gestured toward the ancient stone.
"There is a very old Dark Arts presence lingering within it. Try sensing it. The experience should be quite valuable for your study of runes."
Several muffled snickers immediately sounded around the room.
A handful of overly confident students had already attempted the exercise earlier.
The instant their magic came into contact with the tablet, its lingering curses had left some of them dizzy and nauseated.
A few had even vomited.
Now those same students secretly watched Tamara, clearly waiting to see the arrogant Slytherin prodigy humiliate herself.
After all, there were few pleasures more universal than watching someone proud fail spectacularly.
Tamara sneered inwardly.
Testing a Dark Lord with a centuries old piece of cursed stone?
Ridiculous.
She calmly walked to the front of the classroom.
Without the slightest hesitation, Tamara extended her pale right hand and pressed her palm against the dark red markings.
However, the moment she touched the tablet, events did not unfold quite as she had expected.
The malevolent power that had lain dormant inside the stone for centuries suddenly reacted.
Violently.
The instant it encountered Tamara's soul, the lingering Dark magic entered a frenzied resonance.
The tablet, which until then had emitted only a faint chill, erupted with piercing black and crimson light.
Thick black mist poured from the cracks in the stone.
It twisted around Tamara's wrists like countless tentacles, not attacking her, but clinging to her with almost fanatical submission.
As though the ancient darkness within the tablet had recognised something far older and more terrifying.
The temperature inside the classroom plunged.
Frost instantly spread across the windows.
Students screamed and recoiled.
Even Professor Babbling stumbled backwards several steps, her face turning pale as she drew her wand.
"Miss Riddle! Let go! The curse is becoming unstable!"
Tamara remained standing before the tablet.
She could feel the intimacy with which the black mist responded to her soul.
A faint trace of satisfaction and arrogance passed through her eyes.
This was the true nature of the Dark Arts.
They yielded before absolute power.
Before pure darkness.
Then the System intervened.
[Warning! Warning! Highest Level Alert!]
The electronic voice shrieked through Tamara's mind with such urgency that it nearly seemed to crack.
[The Host is currently emitting an extremely dangerous and overwhelmingly evil Dark Lord aura!]
[This terrifying display fundamentally violates the Virtue System's core principles of gentleness, friendliness, and positivity!]
[Emergency defence protocol activated! Holy Halo Maximum Output: Absolute Purification!]
"You dare!"
Tamara roared inwardly.
But the System gave her no opportunity to resist.
Just as everyone watched in horror, expecting the ancient Dark magic to swallow Tamara completely, something entirely different happened.
Brilliant white light suddenly erupted from her body.
It was warm.
Pure.
Almost impossibly radiant.
The kind of light that seemed utterly incompatible with anything dark or malicious.
Against that overwhelming radiance, the black mist that had moments earlier clung submissively to Tamara immediately began dissolving like snow beneath summer sunlight.
And it did not stop there.
The Holy Halo surged directly into the ancient tablet.
Crack.
Crack.
Fine fractures spread across its surface.
The centuries old stone, which had contained powerful Dark magic for generations, began disintegrating from within beneath the System's relentless purification.
Crash!
Before the stunned eyes of the entire class, the tablet collapsed into a heap of fine white powder.
Not even a trace of magic remained.
The radiant light slowly faded.
The classroom, which moments earlier had felt like an ice cellar, suddenly seemed filled with the warmth of spring.
Even the air carried a faint scent reminiscent of grass after rain.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then the room exploded.
Gasps echoed from every direction, followed almost immediately by thunderous applause.
"Merlin..."
Professor Babbling stared at the pile of white dust with obvious pain at the loss of such a valuable archaeological specimen.
Yet even that could not suppress her excitement.
Her eyes were almost shining.
"Incredible... absolutely incredible!"
She turned toward Tamara.
"Miss Riddle, you possess an extraordinarily pure affinity for light magic! Even such deeply entrenched Dark magic was completely dispelled and purified upon contact with you!"
Tamara remained frozen before the desk, one hand still suspended where the tablet had once stood.
Faint traces of the System's forced white radiance continued to drift from her body before gradually fading.
Around her, students whispered words such as pure, light, holy, and even angelic.
Tamara stared down at her hands.
Those same hands had once created countless corpses.
Those same hands had torn apart souls.
And now they had been made to radiate brilliant white light representing warmth and purity.
The muscles in Tamara's face twitched.
Her gaze slowly lowered toward the remains of the tablet, now reduced to perfectly harmless white powder.
A wave of humiliation and nausea surged through her, worse than swallowing ten kilograms of Flobberworm mucus.
Yet when Tamara looked up and saw the awestruck, worshipful expressions throughout the classroom, she still forced an impeccably false smile onto her face.
"Truly... an honour."