The Beresford estate on the outskirts of Albania.
In the living room, Maevis waved her wand and produced tea on the table.
Normally, such a task would be left to house-elves—why the mistress of the estate was doing it herself was unclear.
Perhaps it was some small gesture of sincerity toward this rare visitor.
The recipient of the tea—Albus Dumbledore—smiled cheerfully and brought the cup to his lips.
"So, what brings you here today?"
Honestly, Maevis wasn't in the mood to see anyone right now.
Her husband and eldest son were dead. Her daughter and youngest brother were missing.
Few people could remain calm after something like this.
Whether Dumbledore knew this or not, he spoke with his usual composure.
"Ah, you see... I am currently investigating your daughter Mirabelle's past."
"...For what purpose?"
"To prevent her terrifying scheme."
Straight to the point.
Though he didn't say it explicitly, it was tantamount to declaring: "Your daughter has done things serious enough that I'm personally concerned."
Maevis's eyebrow rose, her displeasure obvious.
"My, my... You expect me to believe that?"
"Of course I do."
Maevis loved her daughter.
One would normally assume she wouldn't readily believe such claims.
But Dumbledore had already judged that Maevis had reached the answer herself.
"Regarding the tragedy that befell your husband Heathcote last year—ah, please don't take offense—I'm convinced that our conclusions align."
"...My husband simply fell ill. Or perhaps he was afflicted by something from You-Know-Who's followers..."
"Of course, that's what you initially thought. But when your daughter suddenly disappeared, along with all the house-elves and servants, you arrived at a different conclusion."
Maevis's shoulders trembled at Dumbledore's observation.
There was no denying it.
She had been doing tasks herself today that would normally be handled by house-elves.
Not as a gesture of sincerity toward Dumbledore—but because she had no choice.
Indeed... this estate currently had not a single servant or elf.
When her daughter Mirabelle went missing, Sydney and the servants simultaneously vanished as if coordinated, and Heathcote and Simon died as if their purpose had been fulfilled.
Even Maevis couldn't fail to notice these events were connected.
After all, she too knew the ruthlessness of the Beresfords—she was married to one.
She should have known better than anyone that a daughter carrying Heathcote's blood might harbor such dangerous tendencies.
And so she reached her conclusion.
We've been abandoned by our own daughter.
"Are you... are you saying that child killed my husband and Simon?"
"Sadly, yes."
Taking a sip of tea, Dumbledore delivered the cruel truth.
He wasn't here to confirm facts at this point.
He wanted her to accept this reality and move the conversation forward.
"That girl killed many Death Eaters and Aurors at the Ministry last year—and even killed Fudge."
"..."
"When she killed Fudge, she was beyond herself. She pounced on him like a predator who'd found her prey, exposing her hatred completely."
Cornelius Fudge... the former Minister of Magic who corrupted the wizarding world.
Mirabelle's fury toward him made sense, given her stated beliefs.
For a girl who proclaimed she'd eliminate the incompetent, Fudge was the very embodiment of someone who needed to be crushed.
But was that enough to justify such unbridled hatred?
To put it bluntly, there had been men even more incompetent than him.
Gilderoy Lockhart, for instance.
Yet Mirabelle hadn't shown such visible anger toward them. Was simple incompetence really the only reason?
"I believe you know the reason. And I suspect it's what twisted that girl so terribly."
Maevis didn't answer.
She pressed her lips together, shoulders trembling as if enduring something.
Seeing this, Dumbledore became certain his suspicion was correct.
No doubt about it... this woman knows...
The source of the flames of hatred burning within Mirabelle...
"...Please leave."
"...Mrs. Maevis."
"I have nothing to say to you..."
Did I miscalculate?
Dumbledore felt a flicker of panic internally, searching for words to continue the conversation.
"Come now, won't you at least talk until we finish our tea?"
"I have nothing to say."
Dumbledore's brow furrowed slightly, mentally cursing his own carelessness.
It seemed he'd pushed too hard, too quickly.
Uncharacteristically impatient, he'd misjudged how much emotional capacity Maevis had left.
Once she became this obstinate, no amount of persuasion would get through—it would go in one ear and out the other, completely meaningless.
Best to call it a day here.
"...I'll visit again."
Leaving his half-drunk tea behind, Dumbledore stood.
Next time, he should probably bring mead instead—he had a feeling the tea might be spiked.
In any case, time was running short.
He needed to extract memories from her on his next visit, or the one after... Nothing ever goes smoothly.
✦
"It's over... Everything's over..."
"...Edith, what on earth did you do?"
In the library, Hermione spoke with exasperation as she watched Malfoy mutter dejectedly to himself.
She'd seen Malfoy depressed before—sometimes by his own doing, sometimes thanks to Mirabelle—but never this severely.
He was so consumed by despair that he didn't even notice Hermione and Harry nearby.
"Um... I think I completely ruined his plan."
"Whatever plan it was probably wasn't any good anyway. You don't need to feel bad, Edith."
Harry spoke forcefully to the apologetic-looking Edith.
None of Malfoy's plans had ever been worth anything.
So this one must be bad too.
His conclusion was biased, but sadly, it was also true.
Perhaps out of desperation at his plan's complete collapse, Malfoy suddenly shouted:
"Yeah, that's right! The 'Chosen One' Potter wouldn't understand my struggles! No one could understand the suffering of having to kill Dumbledore!"
"What did you say... So you really were trying to kill Dumbledore!"
"Yes! That's what He ordered me to do! I had to accomplish it! But... but then this traitor over here!"
Traitor or not, Edith had never been on Malfoy's side to begin with.
But there was no point explaining that to a Malfoy gone mad with desperation.
He raved wildly and tried to draw his wand.
But unfortunately, Edith had already confiscated it.
Then he tried to attack physically, but Harry's Disarming Charm struck him directly, sending him tumbling pathetically across the floor.
"Did you hear that, Hermione? I was right all along!"
"Y-yes... But wait. Malfoy, does that mean Katie and Ron were your doing too?"
Hermione asked hesitantly, pulling her gaze from Harry's triumphant expression.
Malfoy, having completely given up on everything, began talking freely.
"Yeah, that's right. I used the Imperius Curse on Madam Rosmerta and had her give the cursed necklace to that girl. The poisoned mead was Rosmerta's doing too."
"B-but how did you communicate? All correspondence in and out of the school was being monitored!"
How had he coordinated with the outside world?
To Hermione's question, Malfoy snorted derisively.
"Ha! I got the hint from you, you Mudblood! I enchanted coins. I kept one and could give orders anytime!"
It was the same method Hermione had devised for Dumbledore's Army communications last year.
Never imagining her own idea would be used for such evil, Hermione looked deeply hurt while Malfoy laughed nastily.
"The poison idea came from you too. I heard you telling Filch in the library that he couldn't detect poisons. Serves you right, Mudblood! That's right, it was all your ideas! Not mine! You're the one who nearly killed that blood traitor Weasley and Katie Bell!"
"...!"
"Aww, are you going to cry? How pathetic—when people get like this, they're finished! I'm the one who should be crying... If only Mudbloods like you didn't exist—"
That's as far as Malfoy's tirade went.
Before Hermione could react to his vicious words cutting into her heart, Harry reached his limit first.
Before anyone knew it, he'd driven his clenched fist into Malfoy's face, breaking his nose and front teeth and slamming him to the floor.
"Shut up, Malfoy!"
Harry mounted the fallen Malfoy and beat him with all his strength.
Malfoy tried to resist, but Harry wouldn't stop.
The sheer difference in experience was overwhelming.
Harry, who'd faced life-threatening danger countless times since first year and even endured the Cruciatus Curse, versus Malfoy, who'd always been sheltered by his lackeys.
Even if their builds were similar, their pain tolerance was completely different.
Moreover, Harry and Hermione were quite close—their relationship could almost be called romantic.
With anger at seeing her insulted added to the mix, Harry had transformed into a raging beast.
"Do you understand?! Because of you, two people nearly died! Katie and Ron were just lucky! Do you understand that?! And you don't even feel remorse—laughing and grinning like that! What do you think life is worth?!"
He punched, and punched, and punched!
Teeth broke, blood sprayed, and even when Malfoy stopped resisting, Harry didn't stop.
His face covered in blood, his striking arm aching—he didn't care.
Injuries like this would heal completely at Madam Pomfrey's as if nothing had happened.
But a lost life never returns. A lost family member can never be brought back by any means.
This bastard tried to do that! He tried to make Katie's family and the Weasleys experience the pain of losing family!
Unforgivable... It mustn't be forgiven! It can't be allowed!
"You used what Hermione thought up for her friends for something filthy! People like you are why suffering never ends! Clench your teeth! Today's the day I beat that rotten nature out of you!"
"Sh-shut up... Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! I didn't want to do this either!!"
Malfoy, tears in his eyes, thrust out his fist and hit Harry's face.
Yes, what Harry was saying was probably right. Undeniably correct.
But then what was he supposed to do?! With his father and mother held hostage, how else could he have acted?!
Frustrated, he punched Harry frantically, getting hit back for every blow he landed.
The two rolled across the floor repeatedly, exchanging blows driven purely by rage.
"Stop it! Stop it! What is this commotion?!"
"Potter, stop this instant! What are you doing?!"
Naturally, a fight in the library would attract attention.
Madam Pince and Professor McGonagall's voices rang out, having heard the disturbance, but Harry still didn't stop punching.
What was this pain compared to anything? This idiot needed pain thoroughly carved into him.
Even this was nothing compared to the pain of never seeing family or friends again.
"Stop it! I said stop, Potter!"
Along with McGonagall's furious shout, Harry felt himself knocked back by magic.
When Harry painfully stood up, he saw McGonagall and Madam Pince glaring down at him angrily, a flustered Hermione and Edith, and Malfoy crouched down sobbing.
"What is the meaning of this, Potter! Beating someone one-sidedly like this is unacceptable!"
"Even this isn't enough, Professor McGonagall... He nearly killed Katie and Ron."
"What did you say?"
McGonagall's face had been red with anger, but Harry's words—his fury still unabated—shocked her instead.
Harry threw his words at her like accusations.
"Malfoy just confessed. He used the Imperius Curse on Madam Rosmerta to give Katie the cursed necklace and sent poisoned mead to Professor Slughorn!"
"G-good heavens... That's a grave accusation, Potter! D-do you have proof?"
When asked for proof, Harry immediately remembered Malfoy's earlier words.
He grabbed Malfoy and shoved his hand into his trouser pocket, searching.
And there it was! He felt the texture of a coin at his fingertips!
Harry immediately pulled it out, glanced at it, then showed it to McGonagall.
"Examine this coin! It's enchanted and can communicate with Madam Rosmerta! And in the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor, there are remains of a cabinet he was repairing to kill Dumbledore!"
"L-let me see!"
McGonagall grasped the coin Harry offered with trembling hands.
She examined it for a while, tapping it several times with her wand.
Then from the other side of the coin came Rosmerta's voice: "What do you need, Master Malfoy?"
McGonagall's expression turned severe as she looked down at Malfoy.
"This is... This is absolutely terrible, Malfoy... Do you understand what it means to use the Imperius Curse on someone?"
She'd shown anger before, but this anger was different.
The earlier anger had been like a mother scolding a misbehaving child.
No matter how furious she seemed, there had been a measure of gentleness.
But what was on McGonagall's face now was genuine fury.
Yet Malfoy could only sob pathetically, unable to answer properly.
"In any case, we must remove the curse on Rosmerta immediately. And we must inform Professor Dumbledore. Harry, Granger, and Reinagel! You three come with me to the Headmaster's office!"
✦
"Someone... Someone stop her!"
"I-impossible, she won't stop! She's broken through the Thief's Downfall!"
"What about the dragon?!"
"The dragon's been tamed! It's following her orders!"
Gringotts Bank was in total chaos that day.
The supposedly second-safest place in the wizarding world had indeed been broken into a few times before.
Dishonorably, there were even criminals who'd succeeded in their thefts—an undeniable fact.
But never before had anyone been foolish enough to try this method... a frontal assault!
"What about the security trolls?!"
"They've been wiped out!"
"Wiped out?! All thirty-eight trolls?!"
It was more brazen than anything in history, and more vicious than any precedent.
The girl who suddenly attacked the bank—Mirabelle Beresford—scattered the goblins, annihilated the trolls, destroyed the sturdy doors, tamed the dragon, and forced her way deeper and deeper through sheer power.
No trap, defense, or curse worked on her.
She strode through cursed passages as if she owned them, shattered protective walls, and didn't flinch when engulfed in flames from traps. Unfortunately, this bank possessed no means of stopping this invincible monster.
Of course, there had been gentler methods.
Using the Imperius Curse and Quirrell's talent for handling trolls, she could have slipped in quietly and reached her destination unnoticed.
But Mirabelle had absolute confidence in her power and judged that Gringotts was no challenge for her current self.
She didn't favor sneaking around against mere goblins.
So the method she chose was this historically unprecedented act of stupidity: a frontal bank robbery!
A bold, audacious power play that practically shouted "Try and stop me if you can!"
"S-stop her! On Gringotts's honor, don't let her through!"
Dozens of magically animated security golems charged at Mirabelle at the goblins' command.
But Mirabelle's composure didn't crack.
With a demonic smile, she shattered, sliced, and obliterated the golems, crushing them in moments.
Finally, she punched the ground, triggering an explosion that radiated in all directions with her at the center, blowing away all the golems.
"Ah, ahhhh..."
The burning bank. Scattered debris.
In front of the goblin who'd collapsed in shock at the surreal scene, a devil emerged from the flames as if nothing had happened.
Her flawless beauty, illuminated by the firelight without a single scratch, was twisted with intoxication at her own power, sneering down at everything in existence.
"Hey, you."
"Y-yes!"
"Choose. Die here, or submit."
Given two choices by Mirabelle, the goblin prostrated himself without hesitation.
His instincts understood. This was a monster he mustn't defy. An abomination he could never defeat.
Once he understood that, pride meant nothing.
Grabbing the goblin by the scruff of his neck, Mirabelle continued advancing deeper.
Eventually reaching her destination—the Malfoy family vault—she used overwhelming magical power to blast through the door protected by specialized spells.
Stepping over the door now reduced to scrap metal, the devil finally invaded the vault.
"...Hmph. You gave me quite a bit of trouble."
Without hesitation, Mirabelle picked up a single cup from the mountain of treasure.
This was the Horcrux Voldemort had entrusted to his followers: Helga Hufflepuff's Cup.
It should have been in the Lestrange vault originally, but after Mirabelle massacred the entire Lestrange family last year, it had been hastily moved to the Malfoy vault.
But ironically, that movement caught Mirabelle's interest.
Lestrange to Malfoy... A transfer of vault contents between two families at the top of the Death Eater hierarchy.
Suspecting something significant, Mirabelle captured, tortured, and killed several more Death Eaters, ultimately discovering that something important belonging to Voldemort was hidden here.
"Even hidden in a vault... Such pathetically weak protection."
The cup was cursed.
Though nothing impressive.
Just a Burning Curse that incinerated anything it touched and a Gemino Curse that multiplied endlessly.
But the flames weren't hot enough to burn the monstrous Mirabelle's hands, and since she held the real one, it didn't matter how many fakes multiplied.
Normally, victims would drop it in shock from the heat and be overwhelmed by the copies... But as Horcrux protection went, this was rather lackadaisical.
Or perhaps they'd simply overestimated the vault's security... Either way, it should have been guarded more carefully, Mirabelle muttered.
"Fiendfyre!"
Mirabelle obliterated the cup she held with cursed fire, then looked upward as if her business was done.
She blew away the ceiling with magic and beckoned the dragon closer.
This was a pitiful dragon that had been imprisoned and enslaved by this bank for years.
A superior species, yet denied freedom—Mirabelle had pitied its miserable state, healed its wounds, and through sweet words, convinced it to become her subordinate.
Still holding the goblin, Mirabelle mounted the dragon's head and gave the signal.
Without a backward glance at the bank she'd destroyed, she flew off into the open sky.
Malfoy: "What do you mean 'nearly died'?! He's perfectly fine!"
Romando: "..." ←He's talking about me
Harry: "...Uh, yeah, now that you mention it."
┌(┌^o^)┐ Good evening, everyone.
This time was Malfoy's plan-completely-exposed chapter.
In canon, Malfoy faces zero consequences for all this, so here I had Harry beat him up.
Realistically, two counts of attempted murder and one count of conspiracy to commit murder should be a direct ticket to Azkaban, but Dumbledore will probably forgive him for this much... probably.
And our (ostensibly) protagonist Mirabelle committed a bank robbery this time.
Even I, the author, am thinking "This girl's hopeless... Someone needs to stop her soon..."
Current Horcrux Status:
Gaunt's Ring = Destroyed by Dumbledore
Tom Riddle's Diary = Destroyed by Mirabelle
Ravenclaw's Diadem = Destroyed by Mirabelle
Slytherin's Locket = Destroyed by Mirabelle
Hufflepuff's Cup = Destroyed by Mirabelle. It couldn't escape.
Nagini = Mirabelle has locked on. Run, Nagini, run!
Harry Potter = Still alive