Just as Adrian hesitated internally over whether he should end the suffering of the girl, something completely unexpected happened.
A cold, trembling little hand, using the absolute last shred of strength it possessed, reached out weakly and grabbed hold of his dangling robe with desperate fingers.
The touch was barely there, light as a bird's wing.
Adrian instinctively lowered his wand and looked down at this small gesture that had stopped him.
Amy didn't lift her head to meet his gaze. Her blurred, unfocused pupils remained dilated and vacant, staring at nothing. She seemed barely conscious.
But her cracked lips moved with tremendous effort, producing an almost completely unrecognizable, broken gasp of breath that might have been words. "...save... me..."
This wasn't an attack on him, nor was it resistance to what he was about to do. Rather, it was a primal, instinctive cry for help born from life's most basic survival instinct emerging from the abyss of endless despair in which she was drowning.
She had grasped the only thing she could possibly grasp before her, like a person drowning in deep water clutching desperately at driftwood.
"Well... this is quite troublesome indeed," Adrian said softly. He smiled bitterly at his own weakness.
He had never been particularly good at refusing desperate requests from others, much less from a child so young and so clearly suffering.
For a moment that felt suspended in time, Sirius, Remus, Moody—all those present in the destroyed room stood silently in place, motionless. They quietly watched Adrian and the girl, waiting to see what he would decide.
In the current situation, with its intolerable moral weight, no one could make this choice for him. No one wanted to.
What should I do? Was there any possible way to save her?
Adrian's mind raced, churning through possibilities and impossibilities. And as if specifically, to urge him to make a decision quickly, to force his hand, the Obscurus restricted within the silvery light cage once again erupted with astonishing, violent power.
It viciously slammed against the inner walls of the barrier with tremendous force, causing the silver-white light walls to emit a deep, ominous groan as if unable to bear the burden much longer. Cracks of darkness appeared in the silver light.
"Adrian!" Moody warned sharply, his magical eye was fixed intently on the silvery light cage that was visibly about to give way. "We're out of time!"
"I'm not at all certain this will work," Adrian admitted with a heavy sigh. Then he slowly raised his wand once more toward the cage. "But I'll try anyway."
His Tree of Wisdom Patronus was certainly extraordinarily powerful, perhaps one of the most potent defensive spells he could cast. But it wasn't the right remedy for this particular problem. It fundamentally couldn't control or redirect the Obscurus at all, only contain and suppress it temporarily.
Moreover, an Obscurus active and displayed outside its host would continuously drain the host's life force at an accelerated rate. Even if he somehow managed to control or contain the entity indefinitely, he couldn't guarantee the host's safety or survival.
So now, in these final seconds, he needed a spell that would somehow make the Obscurus return voluntarily to Amy's body.
The problem was, he didn't know what spell could possibly accomplish such a thing. No textbook had ever covered "how to re-bind an Obscurus to its dying host."
But still, this was ultimately a request issued by a child who deserved a chance.
Adrian was far less calm inside than he appeared on the surface, his thoughts were racing.
Extreme nervousness made him feel as though his ears were buzzing loudly, filled with white noise. His mind was extraordinarily chaotic, thoughts were fragmenting and reforming with too many variables, too many unknowns.
If that was his current state, then perhaps he should let his subconscious make the decision. Trust his instincts.
Adrian closed his eyes briefly, steadied his breathing, and unconsciously waved his wand in a smooth motion. He uttered the first spell that spontaneously surfaced in his mind.
"Incarcerous!"
The binding spell.
The instant the incantation left his lips, Adrian himself froze for a moment, surprised by his own choice.
Then he smiled with sudden relief and understanding.
Even he hadn't consciously anticipated it would be this particular spell, of all possible options.
However, in that instant of casting, he could clearly predict could somehow sense that he could make this work. The magic would answer his intent.
Under everyone's watchful, anxious gaze, a semi-transparent silver rope emerged from the tip of Adrian's wand, appearing from nothing and winding smoothly out.
He elegantly drew a large circle in the air with his wand, guiding the magic.
That silver rope, as if possessing independent life and intelligence itself, gracefully extended toward the violent Obscurus still trapped in the weakening cage.
One end of the magical rope precisely coiled around the churning dark energy, wrapping it like a lasso. The moment it made direct contact with the Obscurus's essence, it instantly transformed its nature splitting into countless fine, glowing threads of light that wrapped the darkness tightly from every angle.
It was like a net of silver around shadow.
The Obscurus struggled against this new binding with tremendous force, thrashing and compressing, trying to tear through. But its efforts proved to be completely futile against the light-threads.
Under the increasingly tight binding of the light threads, the violent dark energy gradually compressed and condensed. It shrank from a large mass to something smaller.
At this point, while the Obscurus remained bound, the other end of the silver rope slowly drifted through the air toward Amy, who was still curled up vulnerably in the corner. The rope moved with almost gentle deliberation.
It carefully, almost tenderly wound around her thin arm where it lay crossed her body.
Adrian waved his wand again with a sharp, decisive motion.
The silver rope abruptly tightened with a resonant humming sound that filled the room.
The Obscurus, wrapped thoroughly in its cocoon of light threads, began to shake violently in protest. Yet it couldn't possibly resist this powerful, pulling force that drew it steadily forward.
It was dragged inch by painful inch toward Amy's body, fighting every moment.
When the compressed, bound Obscurus finally touched Amy's cold skin, making direct contact with its host, it swiftly seeped back into the girl's body. It flowed through her arm and disappeared inside, absorbed completely, leaving not a single trace behind of the destruction it had caused.
The darkness returned to dormancy within her.
Amy let out a small, pitiful whimper at the sensation, then went completely limp in Mrs. Weasley's arms. She fell immediately into deep, exhausted sleep.
The silver rope with its purpose fulfilled also transformed into thousands of points of starlight that drifted up and dissipated gradually in the cold air.
The entire devastated living room fell into a profound, almost sacred silence. No one spoke or moved for several seconds.
Only the girl's shallow but steady breathing could be heard gently echoing in the stillness.
"Resolved," Adrian finally said, breaking the spell. He shrugged casually, trying to release the tension, and breathed out a sigh of relief as he addressed everyone watching. "Although I must stress, it's only a temporary solution. The Obscurus is contained but not cured. She'll need constant help."
The cold winter wind from outside had already thoroughly entered the destroyed house through the holes in walls and windows, bringing with it the smell of snow.
Mrs. Weasley was the first to shake off her stunned paralysis. She immediately hurried forward with urgency and carefully, gently lifted Amy's unconscious body from the cold floor where she'd been lying.
She conjured a thick, warm wool blanket from somewhere and wrapped it thoroughly around the girl's small, trembling body.
"So... what do we do now?" Remus asked, somewhat at a loss as he looked around at the destruction. "With her, I mean? She can't stay here. This isn't a safe place for a child, even without the Obscurus."
Sirius observed the utterly devastated house with its collapsed walls and scattered debris. He let out a heavy, weary sigh. "At the very least, before we figure anything else out, we need to repair the house first. Make it structurally inhabitable. Kreacher?"
Kreacher emerged slowly from beneath the still-standing section of staircase on one side, apparently it had been hiding there all along, throughout the entire battle.
Its bloodshot eyes swept over the scene of utter chaos and destruction with horror. It muttered in its croaking voice, "The wastrel young master brought more wastrels and blood traitors into the mistress's beloved house and destroyed it completely..."
"Enough, Kreacher," Sirius cut it off sharply. He was unwilling to explain in any detail what had actually just occurred. "We need to repair this place. All of it. Immediately."
Kreacher reluctantly, resentfully bowed low, its large bat-like ears drooping. "As you wish, young master," it said with contempt.
It snapped its fingers, and the scattered bricks and stones around them began to move slowly, lifting and shifting. Though the repair process was proceeding at an extremely sluggish pace due to Kreacher's passive resistance to helping.
Just as Kreacher grudgingly, slowly went about repairing the damaged house with reluctance, footsteps suddenly sounded from the direction of the door, which was now only half intact.
Dumbledore stepped calmly over the threshold and debris.
"Good evening, everyone. I do apologize for my tardiness. What has happ—" Before he could finish his polite sentence, the remaining half of the door behind him, weakened beyond endurance, finally gave up its struggle and collapsed completely backward, raising a fresh cloud of choking dust.
Dumbledore nonchalantly brushed the dust off his dark robes with one hand, seemingly unsurprised by this development. His gaze swept carefully over everyone present before finally settling with focus on Adrian.
"What trouble have you caused this time, Adrian?" he asked without hesitation.
"You make it sound like I cause significant trouble frequently," Adrian's tone carried a hint of defensive teasing despite his exhaustion. "But your timing is certainly impeccable as always, Professor Dumbledore. We've just finished cleaning up the worst of the mess."
Dumbledore blinked mildly behind his half-moon spectacles, looking around at the destroyed room with skepticism. "This doesn't look remotely like a cleaned-up mess to me, I'm afraid."
At the same time, he waved his wand in a casual gesture. The collapsed door immediately repaired itself with a series of clicks and scrapes, rising and reattaching.
"In fact," Dumbledore continued, turning to address everyone seriously, "people from the Ministry of Magic are currently outside right now, pacifying and dealing with the Muggles who were disturbed by tonight's events. The noise and destruction were quite noticeable. I imagine Ministry officials will be coming in shortly to inquire formally about the situation and file reports."
Pacifying, of course, everyone understood, meant nothing more than erasing their memories with charm work.
It appeared that the violent commotion earlier had damaged or overwhelmed the house's ancient Muggle-Repelling Charms somewhat, allowing ordinary people to notice.
"So then," Dumbledore's gaze returned weight to Adrian, becoming more serious and concerned, "please explain to me what occurred here. I'm absolutely certain this was not simply an ordinary Dark wizard attack or Death Eater raid."
Adrian nodded, taking a breath. "In fact, Professor, it was an Obscurus."
When the word "Obscurus" emerged from Adrian's mouth, Dumbledore's composed expression immediately changed.
His calm, peaceful facade instantly faded, replaced by shock and concern. As if unable to believe what he'd just heard or needing confirmation, he repeated the word slowly: "An Obscurus? Here? You're certain?"
"Yes," Adrian confirmed without hesitation. "Absolutely certain. I've seen one before."
Dumbledore's gaze instinctively turned toward the small figure wrapped securely in a blanket in Mrs. Weasley's arms. A rare flash of deep shock passed through his eyes.
He immediately strode forward to stand before Mrs. Weasley, his gaze was locked on the sleeping girl's face.
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