novelcrest Chapter 448 is simply... an insult to literature!
Chapter 448 is simply... an insult to literature!
Chapter 448 is simply... an insult to literature!
"But Dumbledore knows your ages."
"Yes, but who becomes the warrior isn't up to him, right? To me, it seems that this referee only needs to know who wants to participate."
He'll just pick the best student from each school, he doesn't care how old they are. Dumbledore wants to stop us from enrolling.
"But so many people died."
"Yes, but that was many years ago, right? Besides, what's the fun without a little adventure?"
"But one"
"Stop nagging, Ron."
George interrupted him and asked in return.
"If we could fool Dumbledore, would you like to participate?"
This question completely stumped Ron.
When he learned that he could not participate in the Triwizard Tournament, his reaction was to complain and be dissatisfied; but now, faced with a sudden and possible opportunity, he is hesitant.
On the surface, he still tried to appear indifferent, but his inner turmoil was clearly visible.
He then turned his gaze to Harry beside him.
"It would be great if we could participate, wouldn't it? But I guess they probably want someone older—I wonder if what we've learned is enough—..."
Before Harry could answer, Neville's sullen voice came from behind them.
"What I've learned is definitely not enough—" he replied confidently, as if he had never been so certain of anything before, "but I think my grandmother will definitely want me to participate. She's always nagging me to uphold the family honor. I just want to—"
While the group was discussing, Hermione was still absentmindedly flipping through the book in her hands, her eyes lingering on the dry words, but she seemed unable to concentrate.
Her thoughts drifted off to who knows where.
The answer is... obvious.
Hermione gently put down "The Triwizard Tournament: History and Rules," glanced up at her friends surrounding her, and seeing that they were still engrossed in their debate, she slowly got up and walked toward the door of the common room.
Harry noticed her suddenly stand up and looked at her, puzzled. "Hermione?"
Hermione didn't turn around, but simply shook her head slightly and said calmly, "I'm going to the library. There are some things I need to think about."
library?
Didn't Mrs. Pince leave work long ago?
On the other side, after receiving Tonks' affirmative reply, Sean took out his briefcase and gestured for Tonks to enter the pre-built secret realm with him.
This is a simulated classroom environment.
Inside the classroom, desks and chairs were neatly arranged, and several "students" sat in their seats, their eyes showing some anxiety.
"This is a situation Hermione has faced before," Sean began. "You will play Hermione and face some unexpected problems and challenges. You must solve them within a limited time."
Tonks quickly composed himself, stood up, looked at the simulated scene in front of him, and began to construct a character in his mind.
"Imagine you are explaining a complex theory of magic, and suddenly someone questions what you are saying, or even starts to provoke you."
"How should you handle this?"
Tonks frowned slightly, showing a hint of displeasure, and slowly spoke.
"This theory has been thoroughly verified; it's not just my personal opinion, but research across the entire magical community has reached the same conclusion. If you have any questions, I can explain further."
The next second, the scenery of the secret realm changed again.
Potions class, dealing with a potion about to explode...:
Quidditch pitch, facing a heated Quidditch match...:
Go to the library to find relevant study materials...
And for Hermione, the most important thing of each school year is the final exam.
Of course, the ultimate test for Tonks is the coaching scenario that Sean has carefully prepared—the ultimate test.
Hermione walked alone in the deserted castle, a nameless sense of unease filling her heart.
She had no idea where to go or what to do.
In short, she just walked around casually.
Like a lone boat lost at sea, drifting aimlessly, following only instinct.
After an unknown amount of time, when Hermione slowly raised her head again, what came into view was the slightly old door of Phillips' office.
She relaxed slightly, her brows furrowing as she quickly pondered why she had come here.
After a brief hesitation, she reached out and gently knocked on the door.
"Thump."
The soft sound seemed particularly abrupt in the silent atmosphere, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples.
Then she increased the force even more.
"Thump, thump, thump."
However, the long period of silence behind the door was very strange to Hermione—in her memory, Professor Phillips was rarely out of his office during this time.
Could it be...?
An impulse suddenly surged into my heart.
Hermione whispered a spell, her hand lit up, and she gently waved her wand. The lock clicked and made a crisp sound.
The door slowly opened.
Hermione took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
The office was dimly lit, with flickering candlelight on the desk, and a faint scent of books mixed with the smell of dust filled the air.
Hermione looked around, but saw no one.
The oppressive silence made her even more uneasy. She cautiously walked to the table, her gaze falling on the briefcase on the floor.
She didn't notice that on a bookshelf in the corner of the room, a mirror was faintly glowing with a silvery-white light, which then disappeared without a trace in a flash.
It silently returned to its original appearance, as if it had never appeared at all.
"Please come in."
Seeing Hermione slowly push the door open and enter, Sean raised his eyebrows slightly and asked in a serious tone.
"Miss Granger, what brings you here so late at night?"
"Professor, I have some questions for you."
"Please have a seat, Miss Granger."
As Sean spoke, he moved aside slightly, gesturing for her to sit down.
Tonks walked to the chair, sat down gracefully, and maintained Hermione's usual upright posture.
"You seem a little anxious, Miss Granger. What brings you to see me so late at night?"
"I... I've been feeling a bit confused lately," Tonks began slowly, mimicking Hermione's hesitant and reserved tone. "I know you've always cared about me, and I know you have high expectations of me. But I'm starting to doubt whether the choices I made were really right. I... I'm a little lost."
Sean nodded slightly, seemingly agreeing with the answer.
"Feeling lost is human nature, Miss Granger. Especially when faced with complex choices. The fact that you recognize your own confusion is already the first step toward the right thing to do."
Tonks nodded, waiting for Sean to continue.
"Miss Granger, I have a way to help you relieve your mood."
"What?"
"massage."
Upon hearing this unexpected suggestion, Tonks' heart raced. She slightly twisted her fingers and instinctively avoided Sean's eyes.
What would Hermione do in this situation?
To be honest, she was a little confused.
"No...no need. I'm just overthinking things. It's okay, I can sort it out myself."
"Relaxing will do you good, Miss Granger. You don't need to feel stiff; the mental and physical stress from such intense studying can have a significant impact on your health."
Faced with Sean's persuasion, Tonks hesitated.
At this moment, the question she had been pondering had quietly shifted.
Hermione's actions gradually transformed into... the comforting touch of her senior's large hands that could soothe her body and soul.
Those were a pair of large, broad hands.
The two hadn't seen each other for almost a summer vacation.
Tonks couldn't quite remember how those large hands moved around in his own hands.
But I imagine it must have been a very happy time.
The senior student hasn't massaged his body in a long time.
Tonks kept convincing himself – Hermione would surely accept the professor's kind offer, right?
Will it definitely happen?
It definitely will!
It's likely that even Tonks himself didn't realize that he had stumbled upon the truth of certain facts.
Looking at Sean's concerned eyes, Tonks nodded and said softly.
"Okay, Professor."
Sean smiled, very satisfied with Tonks' decision.
"Relax and make yourself comfortable. I'll massage your shoulders a little to help relieve your tension." As he spoke, he gently gestured for Tonks to relax her shoulders and let her lean back against the chair.
Tonks' cheeks flushed slightly. Although her body was a little stiff, everything seemed so natural when those familiar hands rested on her shoulders.
Yes, she meant that her body naturally went limp.
"Relax, don't be nervous."
"Miss Granger, I know this isn't easy for you, but you need to learn to find balance under pressure."
"You've already worked very hard. Now, give yourself a break."
Before this, Tonks had thought that if her senior mentioned the name of a "strange woman," she would be jealous or even feel uncomfortable.
But at this moment, she found that her mood was not turbulent, but rather a strange sense of satisfaction.
This feeling... is very strange.
Tonks thought that perhaps "Hermione" or someone else was just a name, and the real meaning lay in the interaction between her and Sean.
Tonks took a deep breath, trying to remain immersed in her role even in this extremely comfortable situation.
The warm feeling coming from her shoulder soothed her tension like a gentle stream.
She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift aimlessly.
now-
Both Hermione and herself were willing to believe that some care was unconditional.
"It's a bit hot here, Miss Granger."
"Why is your body trembling, Miss Granger?"
"You're so beautiful, Miss Granger—"
Tonks was completely immersed in the pleasure, and was even close to climaxing, but hearing the repeated calls of "Miss Granger" miraculously calmed her down each time she was about to reach her climax.
Indeed, the title "Miss Granger" is no longer a title.
In this context, it evolved into a "safe word".
This is also one of the few moments of rationality that Tonks retains, her last line of defense.
Absolutely not, in this situation as "Hermione," with her senior...:
However, plans can't keep up with changes.
Sean looked at Tonks, whose face was full of confusion, and quietly leaned close to her ear, placing the last straw that broke the camel's back.
"Junior, I missed you—"
Hermione stared at the briefcase on the ground, countless possibilities flashing through her mind.
She knew it was inappropriate to open Professor Phillips's things so hastily.
Especially since she had somehow walked into Professor Phillips' office without his permission.
but.
Her relationship with him is there for all to see.
It's quite common for wives to come to their husbands' offices, isn't it?
Moreover, at this moment, the briefcase lay there all alone, as if waiting for someone to open it.
Hermione's curiosity ultimately prevailed over her hesitation.
"If it's just an inspection, is it too much to fight?" she muttered to herself, trying to find an excuse for her actions.
Admittedly, Hermione has never been a conventional person.
This can be seen from her past deeds.
After making her decision, Hermione crouched down and placed her hand on the lock of her briefcase, the metal beneath her fingertips feeling slightly cool.
With a "click," the lock popped open gently.
However, what she saw next left her speechless. The briefcase was not just an ordinary storage box; it looked like it contained unfathomable depths.
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then finally mustered her courage and slowly reached her hand inside.
Just as her hand touched that patch of Qizakong foam, a gentle suction pulled her whole body into it.
Herman felt a wave of dizziness before his eyes, and then he landed on his feet.
She found herself standing in the corridor of Hogwarts Castle.
The reason she was able to quickly assess this point was because of the door in front of her—the door she had knocked on just over ten minutes ago, the door to Professor Phillips' office.
Hermione stood in the hallway, stunned for a moment.
She looked down at her hands to make sure she had indeed "come out" of Naqiza's briefcase.
However, it didn't feel like a real departure, but rather like being taken back to a familiar yet strange scene.
She looked up and stared at the door to Professor Phillips' office.
The door was tightly closed, and it looked exactly the same as she remembered it.
But that doesn't explain everything that just happened—she was clearly sucked into a deep void by the briefcase, but now she's back here.
Could this be... some kind of hallucination?
Or... was everything that just happened just a dream?
Or... is this Professor Phillips's latest advanced protective measure?
She had heard that many powerful wizards would set traps in their dwellings to prevent wizards like her from "coming uninvited".
But if it's a bean caught in a trap, when did she fall into the cocoon?
Just as Hermione was not yet fully adjusted to this sudden environment, her attention was drawn to a series of sounds coming from behind the door through the slightly ajar crack.
What happened inside made her face flush slightly and her mouth dry.
This is simply... utterly disgraceful!