For Hogwarts

Professor McGonagall staggered half a step backward, the last trace of color draining from her face.

She looked at the student she had once been proudest of, at the unfamiliar dark flame in her eyes, burning for only one person, and suddenly understood the meaning behind Caesar's final mocking smile.

Caesar had not only manipulated her. He had calculated Hermione's reaction, and he had calculated Minerva McGonagall's as well.

The deputy headmistress, who valued Hogwarts and its students above all else, would inevitably come to tell Hermione the "truth" and try to "save" her.

And he had used exactly that to push Hermione completely over the line.

"For Hogwarts..." Professor McGonagall murmured, repeating the words she had spoken before taking action. Now they filled her with endless absurdity and coldness.

Hermione's wand rose steadily, aimed at Professor McGonagall.

Magic began gathering around her, far more concentrated than before—and darker.

The silver light that had once stood for protection and wisdom now seemed tinged with an ominous red.

Dumbledore sighed and tightened his grip on the Elder Wand. He knew there was no point trying to stop her now.

The Hermione Granger before him had already made her choice.

Professor McGonagall's murmur sounded like a final death knell, shattering the last trace of hesitation and doubt in Hermione's heart that belonged to "the student Hermione Granger."

For Hogwarts?

For those nebulous "principles" and "responsibilities"?

Her Hogwarts had already shrunk, ever since that chaotic train station five years ago, to one particular figure, one name.

For him.

She could betray the entire world for him. Naturally, she could also destroy anything that stood in her way.

Her wand remained steady as stone, aimed at Professor McGonagall. The magic gathering at its tip was no longer pure silver-white, nor was it the searing gold-red from before.

Instead, it became a viscous, heavy, dark-red vortex that seemed to devour the light, with black arcs of electricity flickering around its edges.

It was the innermost obsession of the Patronus Charm, twisted into something else entirely by despair, rage, and a madness bordering on sacrifice.

It no longer protected. It existed only to destroy anything standing between it and its "target"—even a former teacher, even the headmistress who symbolized order.

Dumbledore's weary sigh had barely faded when Hermione launched her attack.

No incantation, no warning.

The dark-red vortex of magic burst from her wand tip like a living thing.

It split apart in midair, spinning into countless dark-red rays as fine as hairs, each shrieking piercingly as they descended upon Professor McGonagall like a torrential downpour!

Every ray held a bone-chilling cold that seemed to cut through the soul, and a savagery capable of pulverizing all things.

Professor McGonagall's pupils contracted. Almost instinctively, she swung her wand, using a Transfiguration Spell to make the floor slabs rise in layers.

They formed a thick stone shield in front of her, while the light of Protego flared around her.

But the dark-red rays seemed to ignore physical defenses and conventional magic.

They pierced the stone shield with ease, like red-hot wires through butter, leaving countless charred holes behind.

The light of Protego wavered violently under their impact and dimmed. It lasted less than two seconds before shattering with a crash!

"Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft—!"

Several rays pierced Professor McGonagall's defenses and sank deep into her shoulder, arm, and side.

There was no spray of blood. The struck areas instantly turned ashen and shriveled, as though all life had been drained from them. Even the pain seemed to have been taken away.

All that remained was a cold numbness and a rapidly spreading weakness.

Professor McGonagall grunted and staggered backward, her wand almost slipping from her grasp. The color had drained from her face, and her eyes were filled with incredulous horror.

"Hermione! Stop!" Dumbledore finally moved.

He no longer tried to dissuade her with words. The Elder Wand swept out in a sweeping arc of silver light.

Like dawn breaking, it sought to dispel and purify the evil dark-red magic, while a gentle yet unyielding binding field surged toward Hermione, trying to restrain her.

Hermione did not even turn around.

She swept her left hand backward, sending an equally dark-red but even more violent surge of magic crashing into Dumbledore's silver arc.

There was no earth-shaking explosion, only a teeth-grating hiss, as though two utterly opposing laws were annihilating and wearing each other away.

Silver and dark red gnawed at and canceled each other out, locked in a stalemate!

Meanwhile, the binding field Dumbledore had cast was silently swallowed and dispelled by the dark-red magical field flowing around Hermione as soon as it came within three feet of her.

For the first time, genuine gravity crossed Dumbledore's aged face.

He could feel that the "quality" of the magic Hermione was wielding had reached an inconceivable level. It was not a simple accumulation of Dark Magic.

It was the nascent form of a power approaching the level of "rules," forged by forcibly fusing some extreme emotion within her with her immense magical source.

It was overbearing and pure, existing only to achieve a single goal. For a brief time, it even rose above many principles of conventional magic.

In the instant Dumbledore was held at bay, Hermione's figure darted like a phantom toward the gravely wounded and weakened Professor McGonagall.

There was not a ripple in her eyes, only cold indifference, focused on "removing an obstacle."

Her wand darted like a striking serpent, so fast it left only a blur, thrusting straight at Professor McGonagall's heart.

This time, she was not weakening or restraining her. She was going for the kill!

Professor McGonagall struggled to raise her wand to block, but the difference in strength was overwhelming. Her wand was easily knocked aside.

Just as the wand tip was about to touch Professor McGonagall's chest—

"Mind Pierce!"

A hoarse, weary, yet resolute shout rang out from the side!

Even while facing the erosion of the dark-red magic and maintaining his other defenses, Dumbledore forcibly split his attention and cast an attack spell at Hermione!

White light lunged at Hermione's back like a venomous snake!

It was the most desperate choice, but also the most effective. Against Hermione as she was now, conventional spells were unlikely to work.

Only the most extreme killing curse might interrupt her attack and force her to protect herself.

Yet Hermione's reaction was beyond anyone's expectations.

She did not dodge or defend herself.

Her left hand shot out so fast it left an afterimage, but she did not reach to block the piercing spell.

Instead, she grabbed Professor McGonagall's right wrist, exposed when her wand had been knocked aside!

At the same time, carried forward by her momentum, Hermione turned her body ever so slightly—not even ten degrees.

Thwack!

The white light of the piercing spell grazed Hermione's left shoulder blade, tearing away a large piece of flesh and leaving a deep, charred-edged wound. It went all the way to the bone.

The bone beneath could even be seen twitching faintly.

The agony made Hermione's body jerk violently, and her face turned paper-white in an instant.

But she gritted her teeth and did not even groan. Her forward lunge and grasp never faltered!

At last, the wand in her right hand struck Professor McGonagall in the chest. It was not the piercing spell, nor was it the dark-red ray from before.

Instead, a highly concentrated magical shock, vibrating at a sharp, high frequency, pierced through Professor McGonagall's last vestiges of life force like the sharpest of awls, reaching her heart in an instant!