That evening at dinner, Hermione secretly approached Professor McGonagall, submitting another application to enter the library's Restricted Section on the grounds of "needing to consult rare unique copies regarding Ancient Magical Creature Transfiguration for in-depth research on Ancient Runes and special Transfiguration."
Professor McGonagall looked at the rigorous wording and detailed research plan on Hermione's application, and thinking of her talent in Charms Class and Transfiguration Class that far exceeded her peers, she approved it without much suspicion.
The next day, Hermione stepped into the Restricted Section again with Lia the Cat tucked in her bag.
This time, her goal was exceptionally clear.
The cold, damp air was mixed with the peculiar scent of old parchment and magic dust; the light here seemed swallowed by the heavy bookshelves, and it was so silent that she could only hear her own heartbeat. She no longer flipped through biographies documenting the history of Wizards, but instead walked straight to the deepest part of the shelves, the area concerning mythical creatures, ancient bloodlines, and lost magic.
"Cat," "Transfiguration," "Regeneration," "Magical Creature Affinity."
She silently recited these keywords in her mind as her fingertips brushed past dusty ancient books with broken spines. A Genealogical Study of Dragon Species, History of Merperson Tribe Migrations, The Breeding and Reproduction of Hippogriffs... none of them were it.
Finally, in the most inconspicuous corner almost completely covered by cobwebs, she pulled out a black ancient book with a cover made of some unknown dark red leather and no title. It felt cold and tough to the touch, like stroking the skin of some sleeping creature.
The pages were made of an extremely thin material similar to parchment but much tougher, with content written in an elegant and ancient script.
It was Ancient Elvish.
Hermione's heart began to race. She immediately borrowed the heavy Ancient Runes and Elvish Comparative Translation from the library's public area and spread the two books out on a small table in a corner of the Restricted Section.
It was a process more difficult and tedious than she had imagined.
She had to translate word by word against the translation book. The grammar of Ancient Elvish was entirely different from modern English, filled with complex metaphors and poetic descriptions. A word for "rebirth" could mean "migration of the soul," "continuation of the bloodline," or even just "the changing of moon phases" depending on the context. Hermione had to deliberate repeatedly, fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
Time passed minute by minute; Hermione spent the entire weekend here, except for eating and sleeping.
The sky outside the window turned from bright to dark, and from dark to bright again.
Lia the Cat lay on her lap, sleeping peacefully. Her warm body and steady breathing were the only lighthouse supporting Hermione as she persevered through this dry sea of knowledge.
Finally, after fighting for almost an entire day, as the first ray of dawn pierced the darkness, Hermione found an entry in a chapter about mysterious creatures of the Far East Magical World that made her breath hitch.
[Nine-Lived Cat Demon]
Hermione's finger stopped on that entry. She struggled to translate the content below word by word, each character feeling like a heavy stone pressing on her heart.
"...An extremely rare ancient creature born in the Far East Magical World... a natural shapeshifter with magic affinity far exceeding that of ordinary Wizards... the most significant feature of its bloodline is possessing nine lives..."
Seeing this, Hermione's pupils suddenly constricted, and she instinctively held her breath.
She continued reading, her knuckles turning white from the force of her grip.
"...Every death is not an end. But every rebirth is accompanied by a massive price. Death strips away a portion of related memories, but at the same time, it grants a brand-new power to counter it based on the 'cause of death' or the'strongest obsession before death'..."
"...They fear death, for the pain of every death will be engraved deep within the soul, never to dissipate..."
A freezing chill shot up from Hermione's tailbone along her spine to her brain, making her vision go dark and her breath hitch.
The quill in her hand fell to the ground with a "clatter," the ink splattering into an ugly flower on the floor.
Lia has died three times!
She remembered how Lia always rolled into her arms like a little stove, that constant body temperature she couldn't bear to let go of... that wasn't some talent; it was because she had once been frozen to death in some unknown corner!
She remembered how Lia could avoid Accio and pranks in advance, that incredibly precise Danger Intuition... it was because she had once died in some unpredictable, cold trap!
She remembered the terrifying self-healing ability Lia possessed, the skin that healed rapidly after being scratched... it was because she had once been tortured to death, enduring inhuman suffering, longing for her body to recover quickly amidst endless pain!
Every death meant the permanent loss of a memory and the painful awakening of an ability!
A strong sense of nausea surged up her throat, and she couldn't help but gasp for air.
She didn't dare to imagine how this little thing, who usually liked to curl up in her arms, was soft, cute, afraid of pain, and would purr when asleep, had endured three such horrific deaths to gain these seemingly powerful abilities!
Hermione slowly closed the heavy ancient book.
Her gaze drifted through the dusty window. Lia the Cat had woken up at some point and was sitting on the windowsill, sticking out her pink little tongue toward the falling snowflakes outside, curiously catching one before shrinking her neck from the cold. The adorable sight broke Hermione's heart.
That small, pure white figure looked so fragile yet vivid against the gray background of the Castle.
As if sensing Hermione's gaze, Lia the Cat nimbly jumped off the windowsill and trotted over to Hermione, stretching her neck to lick Hermione's face. The "ting-a-ling" of the little bell on her neck echoed through the Restricted Section.
She reached out to scratch Lia the Cat's chin, and the latter squinted her eyes in comfort, but the look in Hermione's eyes became incredibly complex.
There was the relief of solving the puzzle.
There was heartache and pity for Lia's tragic encounters, overwhelming her like a tidal wave.
She wanted to know everything about Lia's past.
She would make those who hurt Lia pay the price!
So that she could better cherish and protect her.
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