The darkness before Hermione's terrified eyes was countless tis thicker than the deepest, most starless night sky imaginable. This endless abyss ignited the most instinctual fear in the depths of her usually rational heart, the instinctive human terror of complete loss of senses.
Hermione desperately wanted to blink her eyes, to sohow physically dispel this suffocating curtain of darkness that had fallen on her. She couldn't determine with any certainty whether the frantic signals from her increasingly blurry consciousness were successfully making her physical body respond accordingly. In any case, the seemingly eternal darkness enveloping her eyes didn't ripple or diminish in the slightest.
Until, with shocking suddenness, agonizing pain appeared.
The waves of pain shattered the unnatural darkness before her eyes, but she still couldn't see with any clarity. Only disorienting, multicolored flashes of blurry light and indistinct shadows were hazily reflected in her pupils, as if she were viewing the world through a rain-spilled window during a violent thunderstorm.
This scorching, unbearable pain originated exactly from the base of her right hand. In her increasingly confused ntal state, she suddenly realized that this was exactly where that odd green light from the enchanted rose had mysteriously entered her body earlier in the Three Broomsticks.
At that mont, she had dismissively thought it was just an optical illusion or a harmless effect of the enchantnt. Now, as agony flowed through her veins like lted fire, it beca terribly apparent that her initial observation had not been mistaken but beca a warning she had fatally ignored.
This heat consuming her flesh was so unimaginably intense, as if her entire right hand had been forcibly subrged in molten volcanic lava, and her forearm was literally on the verge of lting away like wax held too close to fla.
Moreover, this horrific burning sensation was rapidly spreading throughout her body with terrifying efficiency. In the blink of an eye, barely a heartbeat's ti, it had already soared to her upper arm, leaving a trail of nerve-burning agony in its trail, about to devour her collarbone and infiltrate her vital organs.
'Dark magic or poison? Or perhaps so combination of both?'
With only the most fragile shred of analytical reason still functioning in her increasingly chaotic mind, Hermione, unable to make even the slightest sound through her paralyzed vocal cords, made this judgnt.
At this critical juncture hovering between life and death, it was utterly aningless to waste precious seconds pondering why she specifically had been targeted for. It was equally pointless to dwell on trying to identify exactly what kind of magical assault she had suffered, or who might have orchestrated it.
Now, the only action that desperately needed to be taken was to sohow resist the rapid erosion of this curse as much as possible and strive to buy ti.
Because, if fate showed her any rcy, Professor Watson and Professor Moody were not far away inside the Three Broomsticks Pub. Only they could potentially save her from the inevitable death that was consuming her cell by cell!
Yes, Hermione was very certain that the attack she had suffered would lead to her death in less than a few minutes. This horrifying mont was the closest she had ever been to death in her life—a hundred tis more dangerous than when she had faced the dragon in the first task of the Triwizard Tournant, which now seed like a trivial challenge by comparison.
But what desperate action should she take in these final monts?
All the vast knowledge she had diligently learned since receiving her magical education at Hogwarts flashed through Hermione's mind like the pages of countless books being frantically rummaged through by invisible hands.
Yet, she despairingly discovered that none of the spells, potions, or theories she had so proudly rembered could now save her life, which was currently as feeble and flickering as a dying candle fla in a gathering storm.
"Saving the Nearly Dead You: A Comprehensive Guide to Self-healing from Mortal Injuries for the Mortally Reckless"
Her desperately reviewing mory finally ca to the most recent book she had studied. With a surge of desperate hope, Hermione recalled that in this book she had been reading late into the night just days ago, there happened to be docunted a similar case like her current predicant!
What desperate asures had one of Sirius Black's adventurous ancestors taken when he encountered the lethal venom of a rare magical snake combined with the ancient curse of an indigenous tribal wizard while boldly exploring the remote magical communities of colonial India?
The insidious poison of magical creatures and malicious curses often utilize the natural magic flowing through a wizard's body as their primary dium of transmission, basically similar to how toxins lethal to non-magical Muggles use the bloodstream as their highway of destruction.
Therefore, theoretically, controlling the flow of one's own magic, or even deliberately exhausting one's magical reserves completely, could possibly buy extra ti to search for redies and cures.
That quick-witted ancestor of the Black family had relied on this desperate thod to gain just enough ti to gather rare dicinal herbs that temporarily alleviated the snake's venom.
Then, with his magical knowledge of plants and phenonal mory for obscure countercurses, he had eliminated the complex curse he had been afflicted with!
This ancestor of the House of Black had docunted a thod or ways in the book to control the internal flow of magic—complete ntal focus!
Similar to the ditation practices promoted by certain religions, when all external distractions and internal thoughts are strictly excluded from the conscious mind, a witch or wizard could potentially gain unprecedented control over their own body and magical essence!
Although she had read this travelogue with her usual thoroughness, Hermione had never actually attempted to put the thods ntioned into practice before.
In her typical skeptical opinion, this thod seed far too idealistic and mysterious, lacking the solid theoretical basis and experintal validation she preferred. She had not encountered similar thodologies described in other academic magical texts or heard them recomnded by any of her Hogwarts professors.
But now, on the edge between life and death, with darkness encroaching from all sides, this thod beca the only possible way Hermione could think of that might slow down her demise.
Fortunately, achieving intense ntal focus was not a particularly challenging task for soone like Hermione who had exceptional intellectual discipline and concentration skills due to countless hours of study and spell practice.
When her small but fiercely tenacious rational mind finally managed to temporarily shield the last remaining traces of overwhelming despair and fear, Hermione's blank eyes suddenly brightened.
A breathtakingly beautiful, flowing galaxy abruptly erged in front of her stunned inner vision.
Just as if she were sohow suspended in the infinite depths of outer space, countless brilliantly shining stars gathered together to form ethereal, smoke-like, water-like rivers of pure magical energy.
Countless andering, intertwining streams of silvery light flowed rapidly through invisible channels, forming an intricate, pulsating pattern that perfectly resembled a human torso—her torso.
Hermione, who inexplicably seed to possess an omniscient perspective floating outside her own physical form, was montarily struck speechless with wonder. Then she imdiately realized that this magnificent cosmic display was exactly how raw magical energy naturally flowed through her physical body!
The specific area corresponding to her right arm appeared to be shrouded by an expanding dark cloud of corruption. The silvery streams of her natural magic disappeared instantly as soon as they entered this toxic miasma, and the dark cloud expanded further with each passing second.
She absolutely couldn't allow this dark cloud to completely devour her body!
This desperate realization jumped into Hermione's remaining consciousness. Under the influence of her focus, her internal magic responded directly to her determined will. The silver streams inside her ethereal torso suddenly surged towards her right arm from all other parts of her body as if being intentionally channeled or driven away, madly impacting that dark cloud with the collective force of her entire magical pool. Then—
BOOM!
The tyrannical, uncontrollable magical storm erupted violently from within her core, breaking through all-natural constraints. In Hermione's slightly clearer visual field, she caught only the briefest glimpse of Harry and Ron being violently blown away from her sides. Then, her body completely lost all external support and fell backwards crashing onto the wet stone slabs.
The powerful impact had blasted Harry over a dozen feet away from Hermione's convulsing body. The mont his body violently connected with the hard ground, the pain radiating through his possibly fractured ribs and the nauseating churning in his stomach nearly made Harry faint.
'Sothing happened to Hermione!'
This was the only clear thought his stunned mind could think of.
If he hadn't greatly improved his physical resilience and reflexes during Professor Watson's PE classes over the past months, just this impact would have been enough to seriously injure him considering how thin he used to be.
Harry, who was desperately attempting to support his bruised body with his trembling elbows, instinctively thought.
His gaze still remained focused on Hermione, who was lying on the ground, twitching all over with black smoke rising from her body. But his green eyes still showed blankness and helplessness, as if he still couldn't understand or accept the fact they had encountered.
BOOM!
A second violent explosion resounded in Harry's ears. The windows and sliding doors of the Three Broomsticks tavern instantly blew open. Amidst the terrified screams of young wizards seeking shelter, Professor Watson flew out of the destroyed entrance!
Indeed, he literally flew through the air, not rushed out on foot!
What Harry managed to glimpse with the corner vision of his pain-blurred eyes was that Professor Watson was not a shapeless form they had witnessed before. Instead, he possessed the normal physical form of a human wizard but moved with a supernatural speed that existed far beyond what any normal human being could possibly achieve as he flew from within the shattered remnants of the pub's entrance.
His speed was so fast that Harry's pupils, which had contracted to their limit, only had ti to tremble. Professor Watson had already appeared beside Hermione!
At that mont, Harry fully understood why people throughout the Wizarding world called Professor Watson the most powerful wizard of the modern era.
When Professor Watson looked down at Hermione, his expression was so frightening, far beyond Harry's imagination—there was no gentle smile that typically put students at ease, and the joyful sparks in his pale purple eyes were also gone. Every inch of that young face carried bone-chilling anger!
Surrounding Professor Watson's silhouette, there was surprisingly not a single visible manifestation of the sun-like, blindingly dazzling magical flas that had spectacularly appeared on the unforgettable night of the Quidditch World Cup finals when he had confronted that mysterious dark witch Cliodna.
But Harry could still instinctively feel that Professor Watson's not particularly tall body was radiating a power so intense that it was nearly impossible to look directly at without flinching away!
Bryan's sharp gaze penetrated the situation inside Hermione's slightly trembling and twitching body. He didn't draw his wand. Instead, his eyes suddenly shot out an even sharper light, as if it were tangible.
Accompanied by an invisible, suprely powerful sealing force surging from his body, it swept over Hermione's body. The remaining traces of magic in Hermione's body, along with the force that was devouring her life, were sealed together!
Hermione's body stopped shaking and beca completely paralyzed. Only the faint light in her tear-filled brown pupils proved that she had not died yet.
Professor Moody ran over with a speed that did not match his mutilated body at all. When he discovered that it was Hermione lying on the ground, his expression greatly changed on that seemingly stitched-together face.
Completely ignoring the montary sweep of Watson's majestic, questioning gaze in his direction, Moody imdiately dropped to a squatting position beside Hermione. His palm swept past his waist, and a glass bottle filled with a shiny green light appeared in his palm.
"The combination of poison and curse she's been afflicted with has already devoured a significant portion of her magical reserves and life force," Moody growled. "An imdiate supplent must be administered, otherwise she won't possess sufficient strength to withstand the intensive magical treatnt that will be required to save her life—"
As if giving a professional explanation to Bryan, or simply narrating his ergency dical procedures aloud to focus his own thoughts, Moody removed the cork and force-feeded the green potion into Hermione's mouth.
*******************************
For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy
Reviews
All reviews (0)