Chapter 416 Before the Final Battle
Chapter 416 Before the Final Battle
The night before the great battle was silent and ominous.
A bright, full moon hung in the night sky above Malfoy Manor, and perhaps because of this, the people in the manor could often hear the werewolves' extremely loud howls rising and falling.
An interrogation is taking place underground.
However, there was neither torture nor humiliation.
"I'm actually very curious about how you managed to get here."
"They just happened to be in the Forbidden Forest at that time?"
Malfoy sat in his chair, scrutinizing Hermione. The girl had been dressed in a princess-like outfit, with white lace embroidered on the cuffs and hem. But to be precise, she was a princess in captivity.
He comes over to check on her from time to time now, just in case this clever girl runs away; that would be a disaster.
If he really escapes, Voldemort will become suspicious; and if he falls into Voldemort's hands again, he might not be so lucky.
If we're going to let her run away, it won't be now, at least not.
Hermione's response to his question was naturally silence; she wouldn't be foolish enough to reveal everything.
More than anger, more than shame.
Her heart was filled with more worry than anything else.
"What are those Dementors for? And why do they have..." Hermione began, but did not answer Malfoy's question.
"Miss Granger, I'm afraid you haven't figured out your position yet." Malfoy frowned.
"I gave you the right to speak, not so you could question me."
"Tongue-lock," Malfoy waved his wand, showing no mercy whatsoever.
Hermione's voice soon faded.
Malfoy turned his head, snapped his fingers, and casually called out, "Dobby?"
The loyal house-elf teleported away in the blink of an eye.
"Is the Vanishing Cabinet at Hogwarts fixed?" he asked casually, having seen the open cabinet in the cellar.
I could almost guess how things would unfold.
"It's fixed, Master."
"Dobby apologizes to you again," Dobby said sincerely.
"If Dobby hadn't shown mercy, this wouldn't have happened."
"Sparkle?" He snapped his fingers, and another female house-elf appeared.
"Look at her," he said casually, downing his cup of black tea in one gulp.
However, just as Malfoy was about to get up and leave...
A chilling sensation that went straight to his soul suddenly rose from the depths of his heart, accompanied by a slightly delayed, shrill roar that, with an incredibly terrifying penetrating power, pierced straight through his eardrums, drowning out all the werewolves' voices.
Malfoy felt waves of dizziness; no one but Voldemort could have done that.
Hermione endured the pain, her hands now bound by several anti-magic rings that Malfoy had casually picked up from Nurmengard, her wand hidden elsewhere.
She was even weaker than an average Muggle girl and could only cover her ears with her hands.
Malfoy casually waved his hand, casting a spell that blocked the terrifying howl.
The girl's pain lessened, and her brows gradually relaxed.
What is Voldemort doing?
The two thought of it at the same time, a strange tacit understanding.
Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, thousands of miles away, some people were suffering even more.
Harry woke up with a start, feeling a sharp pain shooting straight to the top of his head, as if his entire forehead was about to split open.
Then came the panic that came from within: was I going to die? This pain was more intense than ever before.
"Ah!" He fell to the ground, his expression contorted, the whites of his emerald eyes instantly becoming bloodshot.
He clutched his forehead with both hands, large beads of sweat dripping down his face.
Harry felt as if his soul was being ripped from his body.
"Extract" is not quite accurate; "strip" is more precise, but it's even more brutal than stripping. It's as if he's being violently and frantically torn apart.
The physical pain can be ignored; the mental torment is irresistible, and the maddening pain etches itself into every nerve in his body.
His roommates were immediately alarmed. Ron reacted quickly and, along with Seamus and the others, carried him to the infirmary.
"Help Harry!" they cried out.
Even after arriving at his hospital bed, Harry continued to toss and turn in agony.
Hibiscus had tried many pain-relieving spells, but none of them worked.
Then, almost simultaneously, it seemed everyone heard the sound of a taut thread snapping.
Harry stopped squirming and quickly opened his eyes.
"Harry? Are you alright?" A large crowd had gathered around him, including Ron, his godfather Flitwick, and many others, all of whom rushed over and looked at him with concern.
Harry swung his arm and touched the scar on his forehead.
"I need to go to Dumbledore's office." For some reason, he said this almost unconsciously, his eyes still showing some confusion and unease.
"You're not sure if you've recovered yet..." Sirius frowned.
"Let him go." Fu Rong's voice was clear and unwavering. "He's already better."
Harry gave Fleur a grateful look.
He left the infirmary alone, running and chanting commands through the corridor, overcoming the obstruction of the ugly stone statues.
Dumbledore's office remained empty. Fawkes was no longer on the iron rod behind the door, and the silverwares on the desk were still spinning, emitting a silvery-white smoke.
Almost instantly, he spotted the Sorting Hat on the shelf, rushed over, and grabbed it.
"Gently!" it said.
In Harry's hands, the mischievous hat began to tremble, and tattered strips of cloth peeked out from the broken brim.
Harry immediately shoved him onto his head.
"When you lose yourself, the Sorting Hat can help you see yourself clearly." Harry remembered Dumbledore saying this. After the pain he had just experienced, he felt lost, as if his personality no longer belonged to him, so he decided to go find the Sorting Hat.
"Strange, really strange." It human-like raised a corner of its hat brim.
"What's strange?" Harry noticed the oddness in his tone.
Even though it's just a hat, the thoughts of the four founders have intertwined and grown over such a long period of time, which is indeed very humane.
"The rightful Gryffindor," the Sorting Hat proclaimed.
"I was a Gryffindor," Harry muttered, finding his statement odd.
"Why would I have wanted to be assigned to Slytherin?" the Sorting Hat exclaimed in surprise. This was really strange.
It's as if we've encountered some kind of special case.
"Perhaps my personality has changed," Harry thought, sounding somewhat pleased.
"No, no, no, the Sorting Hat can't be wrong!" the Sorting Hat cried out, her voice becoming shrill and irrational.
That's your hidden nature, and it can't be changed.
"So what?" Harry retorted.
"Yeah, it doesn't seem to be of much use."
The Sorting Hat seemed to have lost its composure, one corner curving inwards and becoming covered in wrinkles.
"I don't know," the hat said sadly, beginning to doubt itself.
Just as the hat was feeling sorry for itself, the shrieking and howling that had been raging through Malfoy Manor gradually subsided.
Even though Malfoy had already used magic to plug his ears, his hands remained pressed tightly together.
His heart pounded wildly.
A very ominous premonition filled him as he gasped for breath, staring at the abstract, seemingly meaningless mural before him.
Then he snapped his fingers, "Sparkle," he whispered.
With a bang, Shan Shan appeared beside him.
"Bring Miss Granger's clothes to my room."
With that, Malfoy walked into the manor and surveyed the excited werewolves.
"Your movements are not up to standard, be punished." He raised his wand, and a swift beam of light struck the werewolf directly in the chest, and he quickly collapsed unconscious.
"I'm going to punish him, do you have any objections?" A cold, emotionless gaze swept over the werewolves, sending chills down their spines.
The remaining werewolves hurriedly shook their heads, fearing they would be caught in the crossfire.
Malfoy made his way unimpeded, dragging the strong werewolf, pushing open the door of his house, and slamming it to the ground like a chick.
He pointed his wand at its head and cast a powerful spell; in a flash, the werewolf's already limited intelligence vanished.
A strand of long, slightly wavy brown hair was tossed by Malfoy into a crystal-clear glass bottle filled with liquid.
The hair then seemed to undergo a strange reaction, dissolving into the potion.
A large bottle of potion was forcefully poured into the werewolf's mouth.
Then the werewolf's body gradually began to deform.
She eventually transformed into Hermione's appearance, but remained naked, lying flat on the ground.
"Sparkle, help her change her clothes, the one I told you to prepare earlier." Malfoy directed his men, turning his head to the side.
The house-elf was very quick. It changed him in no time.
"Divine Sharpness Without a Shadow!"
The brand-new dress was instantly torn to shreds by the magic, which resembled sharp wind blades, leaving behind traces of blood.
"Muggle Taste" has tricked him many times already.
Looking at the bottle of Polyjuice Potion, which was still more than half full, Malfoy tapped his wand. A blast of cold air filled the room, and then an ice goblet stood upright on the table in front of him.
As the liquid from the bottle was poured into it, the walls of the ice goblet gradually expanded and closed, turning into an ice ball.
Finally, it was stuffed into the werewolf's mouth.
If you drink it all at once, there will be a cost for the medicine, which may not be enough to sustain you through the entire process.
As the ice puck gradually melts, the medicine's effects can be replenished.
If he wasn't mistaken, the Dark Lord would definitely find Hermione useful.
For whatever reason, Malfoy would certainly not hand the girl over again.