Saturday midnight.
At the very top of the Astronomy Tower, a cold wind howled through the spiral staircase. The stone steps were damp with night air, and the distant forest beyond Hogwarts lay silent under the pale moonlight.
"One, two, three... lift!"
A dull grunt echoed through the stairwell as a huge wooden crate was hauled up another step.
"Whew... whew..."
Harry and Hermione collapsed onto the steps, gasping for air. Their lungs burned as if they were about to burst. Sweat soaked their robes, and their arms trembled from exhaustion.
Across from them, Tamara Riddle leaned heavily against the cold stone wall. She bent forward slightly, abandoning any concern for her usual dignified appearance. Her normally pale and refined face was flushed, beads of sweat sliding down her temples. Several strands of dark hair clung messily to her forehead.
Damn fat lizard...
Tamara cursed viciously in her mind, feeling as though her spine had nearly snapped.
Who would have imagined that the once dignified Dark Lord would be reduced to manual labor in the middle of the night like a dock worker?
Originally, the plan had been simple. She would cast a Levitation Charm, float the crate effortlessly through the air, and transport it with elegance and ease.
But the moment they had tried to lift the box outside Hagrid's hut—
[Ding! Warning! Detected that the creature inside the box is in an extremely unstable state of stress.]
The system's voice had appeared with its usual irritating sense of timing.
[Direct magical contact with the crate may cause magical fluctuations. This could provoke Norbert into a violent reaction, resulting in an explosion or loud roaring. For the safety of the Hogwarts campus, please adopt the most primitive and reliable transportation method: physical labor.]
[Task Triggered: Sharing Weal and Woe.]
[As the team leader, how can you stand aside while your teammates suffer? Set aside your status and sweat alongside them. The use of any magic is strictly prohibited.]
And thus, this miserable situation had come into existence.
Harry and Hermione were only first-year Gryffindors with pitiful physical strength. Most of the weight of the massive crate had inevitably fallen onto Tamara.
Just moments earlier, when they had reached a turn in the staircase, Norbert inside the box had suddenly thrashed his tail. The impact had struck Tamara squarely in the waist through the wooden boards.
"I swear..." Tamara muttered through clenched teeth. "When that dragon reaches Albania, I'll have someone starve it for three days."
Just then, a sharp slicing sound cut through the night sky.
Four dark figures emerged from the clouds, riding flying brooms.
They were the people Peritus had arranged.
Tamara immediately straightened her posture. She took a slow breath, smoothed her messy robes, and stood tall, attempting to recover a fragment of the dignity befitting a Dark Lord.
The brooms landed lightly on the tower platform.
The four wizards who dismounted looked rather disreputable. Their robes were worn and patched, and their expressions carried a hint of madness.
The leader was a bald, muscular man with a thick neck and a rather vacant expression.
"Yo! Is this the little guy?"
He hopped off his broom and strolled over casually, glancing at the three children who looked half-dead from exhaustion.
"Hard work, kids!"
His gaze settled on Tamara.
Even though she tried to maintain composure, her disheveled appearance betrayed her fatigue.
The man grinned broadly.
"Especially you, little girl! Look at you—so tired, but this small frame of yours is surprisingly strong! Mr. Peritus said this one is a real treasure."
Little girl?
The corner of Tamara's eye twitched.
She narrowed her eyes, preparing to deliver a silent warning through a cold, oppressive gaze.
Unfortunately, the darkness was too thick. The man didn't notice her expression at all.
Instead, he dug into his filthy leather jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of sticky candies. Without hesitation, he stuffed them into Tamara's hand.
"Here, take this! A reward from Uncle!"
He laughed loudly.
"Cockroach Clusters. Pretty tasty!"
"..."
Tamara stared at the magical candy wriggling faintly in her palm.
Her blood turned cold.
Harry and Hermione were standing right beside her.
She couldn't attack.
She couldn't cast Crucio.
She couldn't slice off the idiot's fingers.
All she could do was hold the disgusting candy stiffly in her hand and force a smile onto her face.
"...Thank you."
"You're welcome!"
The man laughed heartily and turned to shout at his companions.
"Alright, boys! Tie the crate down! Let's move before the bastards from the Ministry of Magic notice!"
The four wizards secured the large crate with thick ropes.
Moments later, the brooms rose into the sky, straining under the heavy weight as they carried the box into the clouds.
Only after the figures vanished completely did Tamara fling the handful of candy from the tower like it was a cursed object.
"Finally... it's over."
She exhaled slowly and rubbed her aching waist.
Her cold eyes followed the direction where the smugglers had disappeared.
The entire process had been humiliating, but it was necessary.
At one point, Tamara had considered hiding Norbert in the Room of Requirement.
The Room of Requirement could easily provide a perfect hiding place.
However, it could not violate Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. It could not create food.
A Norwegian Ridgeback in its rapid growth phase required enormous amounts of nourishment—several buckets of brandy and a dozen skinned chickens every day.
That meant constant smuggling from the Hogwarts kitchens.
They might fool the house-elves once or twice.
But eventually, the truth would be discovered.
And once exposed, the dragon would immediately be confiscated.
Dumbledore would never allow a first-year student to raise such a dangerous creature.
Sending Norbert away was the safest option.
Harry wiped sweat from his forehead and finally smiled.
"We're really lucky. No one saw us."
Hermione nodded.
"Yes, we were lucky. I was worried Professor McGonagall might appear."
Tamara remained silent.
She stood at the edge of the tower, letting the wind whip through her hair.
Her eyes slowly swept across the silent Hogwarts castle.
Lucky?
The tension in her eyes only deepened.
If Hogwarts could truly be infiltrated by luck alone, then back when she had been Lord Voldemort, she wouldn't have spent years searching for secret passages.
Hogwarts was the most heavily defended place in Britain.
The Astronomy Tower might be high, but it still fell within the castle's defensive perimeter.
Yet four external wizards had flown straight into Hogwarts airspace, landed, loaded cargo, and left without interference.
Where were the guardian statues?
Where were the anti-intrusion wards?
Even Peeves hadn't appeared.
Everything had gone too smoothly.
So smoothly that it felt as if someone had deliberately opened the door to let them throw the dragon out.
A chill crept down Tamara's spine.
She could almost imagine it.
Far above, at the window of the Headmaster's office—
Behind a pair of half-moon spectacles, bright blue eyes were watching the entire performance with a faint smile.
Dumbledore knew.
He had watched the entire farce.
"Tamara?"
Harry's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Are you okay? Did the dragon tail still hurt?"
Tamara quickly composed herself.
The dark expression vanished instantly, replaced by exhaustion and mild confusion.
"It's nothing," she said calmly.
"I just thought those people looked... strange."
She paused deliberately.
"Mr. Peritus is a very serious antique scholar. I didn't expect the transport team he found to be like that."
Her words served two purposes.
She was reassuring Harry and Hermione.
And she was delivering a statement to the invisible listener who might be eavesdropping.
She was just a naïve first-year witch who had asked a pen pal for help.
If that pen pal happened to be connected to smugglers or Death Eaters, she knew nothing about it.
She was innocent.
Just a deceived child.
As long as she maintained that story, even if she were summoned to the Headmaster's office tomorrow, Dumbledore would have no grounds to expel her.
"Anyway," Tamara said lightly, "it's good that the dragon is gone."
But inside her lowered gaze, a sharp glint flickered.
The dragon was gone.
Her leverage remained.
Her assets had increased.
And as long as her acting remained flawless, Dumbledore wouldn't suspect anything.
After all, she had carefully forged several letters with this so-called scholar.
"Let's go," Harry whispered nervously. "Filch might be patrolling."
The three hurried down the spiral staircase.
Halfway down—
Tamara suddenly stopped.
Something was wrong.
"Potter," she said sharply. "Where is your invisibility cloak?"
Harry froze.
His face instantly turned pale.
"Oh no!"
"I left it on the tower!"
"I took it off to help lift the box!"
Tamara's heart began pounding wildly.
The invisibility cloak.
One of the Deathly Hallows.
The cloak that even Death itself could not find.
And now—
It was lying alone at the top of the tower.
Unclaimed.
"You two go first," Tamara said immediately, her eyes flashing with greed.
"I'll go get it."
"But—"
"Go! Do you want Filch to catch us?"
She shoved Harry toward the stairs and sprinted back upward.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
If she took it, she could easily claim she couldn't find it.
Or pretend it had been lost.
She reached the top.
And there it was.
A silver fabric flowing like liquid moonlight lay quietly in the shadows.
Tamara lunged forward and grabbed it.
The cool, silky touch sent a thrill through her body.
"It's mine..."
[Ding! Detected that the host has picked up a valuable item lost by someone else.]
The system's voice shattered her joy like icy water.
[Moral Task Triggered: Integrity in Returning Lost Property.]
[Task Requirement: Return the invisibility cloak to Harry Potter within ten minutes.]
[Penalty for Violation: Level Five Electric Shock until returned. Risk of temporary brain damage for two days.]
Tamara's grip tightened.
Her knuckles turned white.
"HE lost it!" she screamed internally.
"Why punish me?!"
[Please return the item to its rightful owner. Do not be blinded by greed. Be a good person.]
Tamara stared at the cloak.
But she feared death.
And she feared humiliation even more.
"Fine..."
She gritted her teeth.
When she caught up with Harry and Hermione—
They ran straight into Filch.
"Who's there?! Students?! Stop!"
"Run!"
They sprinted down the corridor.
After finally escaping, Tamara threw the cloak into Harry's arms like a dirty rag.
"Here."
Her voice was filled with resentment.
"If you ever lose this again, I'll burn you together with it."
Harry stared at her.
His eyes turned red with emotion.
"Tamara... you risked getting caught just to get my cloak..."
"You're such a good person."
Tamara felt blood rise to her throat.
That night she had carried crates, been whipped by a dragon tail, received cockroach candy from a lunatic subordinate, and been forced to return a Deathly Hallow.
And now—
She was being called a good person.
"Shut up, Potter."
Tamara leaned against the wall in exhaustion.
"I don't want to hear your voice right now."
"Not a single word."
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