Cassandra blinked, her wide emerald eyes filled with wonder and insatiable curiosity. She had just discovered that the Flying Spell possessed an unexpected versatility. It wasn't simply an all-or-nothing affair of transforming the entire body into black mist; one could selectively transform only parts.
This revelation was a game-changer. Partial transformation dramatically reduced mana consumption compared to the full-body version. If she were to fully embrace the black mist for flight, even with her magical power rivaling that of an adult wizard, she'd be grounded within minutes.
But selective transformation? That was as mana-efficient as casting a couple of minor spells. Moreover, it hinted at the spell's potential for evading curses!
The possibilities are tantalizing! Casting defensive spells often drained more mana, and even then, success wasn't guaranteed. The Flying Spell was potentially a far more cost-effective defense.
If only I could develop Tom's ability to glimpse the future without any aids... The thought was exhilarating. But a question quickly dampened her enthusiasm; why didn't Tom use this evasive technique more often?
Then it struck her— a rather foolish realization. Tom rarely needed to dodge; he was usually the one dishing out the beatings. She had never heard of anyone forcing Tom into a position where he needed to evade. Not even Dumbledore, nor Tom Riddle.
After an hour spent studying, she was still unable to replicate the technique. Yet, Cassandra remained undeterred. She was bursting with energy, but time was against her. Harry and the others had already been waiting for quite a while.
"We should go now," Tom stated, beckoning Cassandra and Nagini closer.
With a sharp crack of displaced air, the space twisted, and the three vanished.
...
At the end of the impossibly long green vine was an island suspended amidst the clouds. The top of the vine was far from the island, so forests, rivers, and even wisps of smoke and buildings in the distance could be seen. But the most striking feature was the castle that towered high into the sky. Beside this colossal structure, everything looked like a child's plaything.
"Is that... the giant's castle?" Harry and Malfoy gawked at the behemoth, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief.
They had never met a giant, but they had certainly met a giant hybrid.
"Scarhead..." Malfoy began.
"What is it?"
"You were brought here because I'm not familiar with Muggle fairy tales."
"..." Harry rolled his eyes. The nerve of this guy! Passing the buck now, is he?
But they didn't have time to consider the giant's castle. Here they come.
Crack!
As expected, the familiar sound of spatial distortion heralded Tom's arrival.
"Where's Hermione?" Cassandra scanned their surroundings, missing Hermione Granger.
Malfoy nudged at an odd-looking plant with his foot. "She said she saw something interesting over there and went off into the bushes... Hey, isn't that her now?"
They turned to see Hermione clutching a handful of peculiar green grass.
Her eyes sparkled as she saw Tom. "Professor! I've found some plants here that contain magic, like magic beans! Perhaps I could research their properties and even use them to brew new potions!" Hermione was clearly smitten with this unknown flora.
Intrigued, Cassandra eagerly joined Hermione to examine the plants.
"..." Harry couldn't help but grimace. "What's so great about potions? They're as disgusting and smelly as Snape's hair." The mere thought of potions conjured up images of Severus Snape, and his face soured.
Hearing Harry's words, Malfoy casually replied, "Scum acts that way, I can understand it."
"Tsk, Malfoy, are you even considered a top student?"
"At least my Potions score is higher than yours."
"..." Harry's face darkened, unable to mount a proper defense. It was true; his potion skills were... lacking. It wasn't an utter disaster. After all, Snape spent half his classes berating him, forcing him to absorb some knowledge along the way.
Still, without the aid of the "Half-Blood Prince's Notes," Harry was no match for "Snape's godson." The truth was that Snape dampened his enthusiasm for potions.
Perhaps having someone share the flak would improve things? A mischievous glint entered Harry's eyes as he glanced at Malfoy, still smug from his jab.
Decided! I'll get my revenge on Snape, and then blame it on Malfoy!
??!
A sudden chill ran down Malfoy's spine. He looked around, puzzled. "Strange..."
"What are you gawking at? Keep up!" Anxious to conceal his plan, Harry urged Malfoy forward and hurried to catch up with Tom's group as they headed towards the forest.
...
The forest wasn't particularly vast, but the variety of strange plants made it fascinating. Still, it had a strange quality—the animals seemed to have an intelligence beyond mere instinct. It felt like they were thinking.
"..." Hermione stared at a squirrel perched on a nearby branch and reached out, curious.
"Hey! Keep your hands to yourself! What a rude little girl!" The orange squirrel nimbly dodged her hand and scurried to another branch.
"You can talk?!" Hermione was shocked. She thought that this was completely unscientific!
"Nonsense, of course, I can talk. What's so strange about that?" The squirrel hopped down from the tree and landed on Hermione's shoulder. "What? Have you ever seen a squirrel that can't talk?"
"..." Hermione paused for a moment. "Until now, you're the only talking squirrel I've ever met."
Tom, who was walking ahead, tilted his head slightly and glanced at the orange-red creature. Can the squirrel in the fairy tale talk? That makes sense.
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