Inside the subterranean combat hall on the third basement level—originally used to store discarded cauldrons and worn-out automatons—a thick, pungent stench of gunpowder and scorched material hung in the air.
Several rough bluestone pillars had snapped, toppling haphazardly into the center of the arena.
The smooth bullseye targets in the corners, riveted to the walls with black iron, were covered in dense indentations and charred black marks.
Draco Malfoy ripped off his silver-trimmed tie that had been buttoned dead tight, tossing it casually onto a wooden crate nearby. His woolen shirt was long since soaked through with sweat, clinging to his hot, damp back. The muscles in his right forearm twitched violently, and a wisp of fine white smoke still drifted from the tip of his wand.
"Again."
Draco panted heavily, spitting out a mouthful of sweet-tasting saliva, his left hand pressing hard against his right elbow to forcefully suppress the muscle cramp.
Jerry leaned against a thick stone pillar not far away, toying with the coin he had brought back from Malfoy Manor. The coin flipped and rolled rapidly between his four fingers, producing continuous metallic clicks.
"That strike just now—you raised your hand too high."
Jerry didn't even bother moving his feet half an inch, his tone as flat as could be.
"That noble dueling stance you learned at Malfoy Manor serves no purpose in a real arena other than making it convenient for your opponent to hit your ribs with a curse. Keep your wrist half an inch lower, and stop swinging your wand with your entire arm. You're going there to kill people and take golden eggs, not to bow to French girls at a banquet."
The corner of Draco's mouth twitched. He spat a curse, scraped the sole of his right shoe hard against the floor tiles, and fell back into an offensive stance.
"Easy for you to say! If the wrist doesn't move, the resonance path of the magic won't flow smoothly at all! The private tutors my father hired have been teaching it that way for thirty years!"
"Your private tutors are probably sewing trouser legs for Dementors in Azkaban right now."
Jerry raised his right hand. Without even drawing a wand, he casually flicked two fingers toward the empty air before him.
A wave of formless, intangible force tore through the air with a sharp pop like a bursting firecracker, flying straight for Draco's left knee!
Draco reacted with lightning speed. Over this past half-month of hellish training, his body had developed something akin to a beast's raw instinct. In the exact same instant Jerry flicked his fingers, the light propulsion runes on the soles of Draco's shoes flared with a faint glow, and his entire body executed an impossibly sharp, low-to-the-ground pivot to the left!
Bang!
The force from Jerry's fingers blasted a half-inch-deep black crater into the floor tiles, sending shattered stone spraying across Draco's trousers.
Riding the inertia of his body's tilt, Draco's right arm snapped forward, his wrist executing three microscopic, uncanny twitches.
"Impedimenta!"
"Stupefy!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Three spells of entirely different colors erupted from the tip of that blackwood wand in less than a second, practically chained back-to-back!
The leading Impediment Jinx compressed the air into a wall of force; the red Stunning Spell hid right behind the air wall; while the final Disarming Charm slid along the floor tiles, aiming straight for Jerry's lower body!
A seamless, rapid three-shot combo!
In the eyes of ordinary first- or second-year students, this was an unimaginable tactical leap.
Facing this three-pronged assault that cut off all avenues of retreat, Jerry finally pocketed the spinning coin in his hand.
With a light flick of the hem of his coat, his right hand reached forward with five fingers curved into a claw, the magic power in his body swirling lightly in his palm.
A pitch-black, viscous vortex materialized out of thin air half a foot before his palm.
Puff! Puff! Puff!
The three ferocious spells struck the black vortex like clay oxen plunging into the sea, unable to stir even the slightest ripple, instantly shredded and absorbed!
"The speed is there, but the aim is garbage."
In the very next second, Jerry's figure vanished from where he stood.
The hairs on Draco's spine stood straight up in an instant. Without even turning his head to confirm the direction, his right thumb pressed hard against the grip of his wand!
Click!
A crisp mechanical snap rang out!
The seemingly ordinary blackwood wand popped open to both sides, and a narrow, dark-silver rapier engraved with curse-breaking runes sprang out from inside the wand shaft!
Draco gripped the hilt, using the momentum of his forward fall to thrust the rapier backward and diagonally upward with all his might!
This strike was clean and decisive, lacking any of a wizard's hesitation, executed entirely as an assassin's desperate gamble!
Clang!
A thick barrier of black particles blocked the tip of the blade in mid-air.
Metal collided with demonic energy, erupting in harsh sparks. Standing two paces behind Draco, Jerry clamped the blade of the narrow rapier firmly between two fingers. No matter how hard Draco pulled, the blade remained completely immobile.
"This strike wasn't bad," Jerry raised an eyebrow. "Looks more like a man than when you were swinging your wand earlier."
Draco panted heavily, sweat streaming down his forehead into his collar. After trying several times without managing to pull the blade free, he simply released his grip and kicked his right heel hard toward Jerry's shin.
Jerry released his fingers, stepped back half a pace, and casually landed a heavy kick on Draco's rear.
Draco vaulted forward two yards, tumbling twice across the dusty floor tiles before scrambling back to his feet, leaning on the rapier.
Half-kneeling on the floor, he wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve and let out a hearty laugh.
"One minute and twelve seconds."
From the high platform on the side, Hermione spoke up unexpectedly, holding a brass pocket watch.
Dressed in simple grey work robes, her hair casually held back with a wooden hairpin, Hermione held a dozen parchment array diagrams bound with leather straps in her arms. She looked down at Draco half-kneeling in the center of the arena, her long legs leaning against the railing.
"From opening move to being disarmed by Jerry, you held out eleven seconds longer than last week."
Hermione pulled several sheets of parchment from her robes and tossed them down.
"However, your third spell was off by half a foot. If that had been a frontline Auror, the moment you tilted, they would have used a Shield Charm to deflect your Impedimenta and stomped your ribs to pieces."
Draco caught the drifting parchment and glanced at it; marked in red ink were the exact timestamps and angle deviations of every single footstep he had taken.
"Miss Know-It-All, your standards are stricter than those crude Aurors on the front lines."
Draco spat, leaning on his rapier to stand up. He snapped the long blade back into the wand casing, the lock clicking shut with a sharp clack.
"I've slept three hours a day for the past half-month, and the skin on my palms has peeled twice. That three-shot combo earlier—if that had been the Potter kid, he would have bitten through his own lip on the first Impedimenta."
Jerry picked up a bottle of glowing green Calming Draught from the side and tossed it to Draco.
"Potter doesn't need a three-shot combo." Jerry sat down in an armchair. "Dumbledore prepared underwater breathing herbs for him for the second task, along with a dedicated aquatic locator. He's taking the speed route in the water."
Draco caught the potion bottle; without bothering with an opener, he bit the oak cork off with his teeth and drained the thick, fishy-tasting liquid down his throat in one gulp.
The potent medicinal effect exploded instantly, immediately soothing the violently twitching muscles in Draco's forearm. He exhaled a long breath, hands on his hips, pacing back and forth across the arena.
"The second task is in the sunken ruins at the bottom of the Black Lake."
Draco wiped the potion residue from his lips, his tone turning serious.
"I saw the underwater map the Department of War Operations secretly delivered earlier. The water temperature at the bottom of the Black Lake is near freezing, visibility is less than three feet, and aside from the giant squid, there are packs of Black Lake merpeople. The Ministry chained the five chosen 'hostages' to stone pillars in the deepest part of the ruins. The top two finishers from the first task get priority selection of diving routes."
Jerry extended his left hand; beneath his coat cuff, the Purple-Blood Drake poked half its head out, puffing a wisp of purple smoke into the air.
"Did you find out who the hostages are?"
"Do I even need to check?"
Draco sneered, tugging at his collar.
"Potter's hostage is definitely that red-haired idiot whose brain is filled with straw; Cedric's is that Chinese girl from Ravenclaw; Krum... I heard that Nordic brute has been running to the library every day, guarding the ancient texts section like a black bear, probably picking some poor soul who can translate English for him."
At this point, Draco paused, that sneering face suddenly revealing a bizarre expression.
"As for mine... my father sent a message earlier. International Cooperation originally wanted to chain Pansy underwater as the hostage, but my father and old Nott cornered the official in charge of the drawing in the lavatory."
Hermione raised an eyebrow: "And then?"
"And then my father slammed a ten-thousand-Galleon savings ledger against that bureaucrat's nose." Draco sat casually on a stone crate, stretching his long legs forward. "Now my 'hostage' has been swapped for the key to a private Malfoy family vault in Old Europe. As long as I retrieve the gold box, it's equivalent to taking back that ten thousand Galleons."
Hearing this, Hermione rolled her eyes, muttering "damned pureblood greed" under her breath.
Jerry, however, chuckled.
"Lucius played this shrewdly. Using money as a hostage fits the Malfoy persona perfectly and spares any allies from taking risks."
Jerry stood up, pulling a palm-sized, dark-brown circular brass plate from his pocket.
"Take this." Jerry tossed the brass plate to Draco.
Draco caught it with both hands; it felt ice-cold to the touch, faintly flowing with a subtle blend of magic power and spiritual energy.
"What is this? Looks like an oversized pocket watch."
"An underwater high-frequency locator."
Jerry walked up to Draco, clapping a heavy hand onto his shoulder, making Draco sway slightly.
"Water pressure and silt at the bottom of the Black Lake will interfere with standard Finding Spells. The merpeople have laid a dense sonic maze around the ruins. Potter has Dumbledore's water magic guiding him, Krum has Durmstrang's half-shark Transfiguration, and Fleur has her Veela aquatic barrier. You only have this."
Jerry pressed his finger firmly against the crystal in the center of the brass plate.
Hum!
A faint magical pulse that only Draco could perceive shot through his palm into his limbs and bones! A 3D phantom of the entire underground combat hall instantly surfaced in Draco's mind—even the motion of dust within the cracks of the stone rubble was clearly visible!
Draco shuddered violently, his eyes filled with shock.
"This... this inputs sensory data directly into the nervous system!"
"Isabella and Hermione worked overtime in the workshop for three nights to modify it," Jerry said calmly. "It combines the spiritual sense targeting of the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion with a wizard's magical resonance. Within a two-hundred-foot radius underwater, any item radiating magic power will be mapped directly into your brain. Even if those merpeople bury the gold box in the mud, you'll spot it at a glance."
From the platform above, Hermione rubbed her temples tiredly, adding: "To make that thing, we burned through three high-tier sensory crystals sent from the front lines. Draco, if you can't take first place, you'll have to ask your father for next month's workshop material budget yourself."
Draco carefully tucked the brass plate into the deepest inner pocket of his coat, patted his chest, and his arrogant confidence returned in full force.
"Take first? Not only will I take first, I'm going to beat that broom-riding Potter kid until he vomits down there!"
Draco stood up straight, drew his wand, and traced a stunning dark-silver arc through the air with practiced ease.
After this half-month of high-intensity training, the indolence and arrogance in him had been completely washed away, replaced by a steady, cold, and lethal presence, ready to strike at any moment.
Just then, a hurried knocking sounded against the heavy wooden door at the entrance of the arena.
Three long knocks and two short—a very specific coded signal.
Hermione frowned, walked quickly down the stairs, and waved her wand to unlock the heavy ward on the door.
The wooden door creaked open a crack.
Catherine, dressed in a form-fitting black dress, slipped in through the gap. Her signature cat ears were flattened slightly amidst her dark hair, and her long tail lashed urgently through the air behind her.
"Little demon Master!"
Catherine jogged up to Jerry, panting heavily, pressing both small hands against Jerry's chest, her voice hushed to a whisper.
"Something big happened at the Department of War Operations!"
Jerry wrapped his hands around Catherine's slender waist, casually giving her perky buttocks a squeeze: "Speak slowly."
Catherine shot him a flirtatious glare, then spoke rapidly: "Karkaroff secretly met with Margaret from War Mobilization! They privately signed a wartime immunity agreement! The moment the second task begins, Durmstrang plans to deploy high-potency 'Asphyxiation Alchemical Toxin' into the waters of the Black Lake!"
"Asphyxiation toxin!" Draco was stunned. "That stuff instantly drains all dissolved magic within ten paces underwater! Even aquatic life suffocates! Is he insane?! There are four or five hostages down there!"
"Karkaroff isn't insane."
Hermione walked over from behind, an icy glint flashing in her eyes.
"He wants to use the tournament to engineer an 'accident.' If Harry Potter dies underwater, or is crippled, Dumbledore's god-forging plan will completely collapse. And the Department of War Mobilization can use the safety incident as a pretext to fully seize Hogwarts' security and patrol authority!"
Jerry listened quietly, the expression on his face unchanging.
He reached out and gently rubbed Catherine's cat ears; the girl let out a soft purr of pleasure, melting completely into Jerry's embrace.
"Asphyxiation toxin..."
Jerry let out a cold laugh, a ruthless curve pulling at his lips.
"That old Death Eater Karkaroff—the more desperate he gets, the more he loves playing dirty tricks. Draco."
"Here!" Draco immediately stepped forward half a pace.
"When the task begins tomorrow, hold nothing back."
Jerry looked at Draco, the hem of his coat fluttering without wind.
"If Karkaroff dares deploy poison underwater, use the high-frequency disrupter Hermione prepared to overload the magical circuitry of the entire Black Lake. Since they want to play big, let's give all of Europe a real underwater massacre to watch."
Draco rolled his wrists, his knuckles popping crisply. There wasn't a trace of fear in his eyes; instead, they burned with a near-frenzied excitement.
"Leave it to me, Jerry. I've wanted to deal with that goateed old bastard for a long time!"
Inside the underground arena, searing heat and chilling murderous intent intertwined.
The tempest of the second task was about to tear through the depths of the Black Lake!
In the covered arched corridor outside the Great Hall, biting autumn wind blew in through the stone pillars, making the torches on the walls flicker.
Draco turned up the collar of his coat, shoved his hands into his pockets, and strode steadily back from the underground arena toward the Slytherin common room.
Early the next morning, thick, damp morning fog covered the entire Black Lake like a giant grey net.
Around the muddy shores of the lake, the Ministry of Magic had erected massive grandstands dozens of yards high overnight. Tens of thousands of wizards from across Europe packed the stands, their thunderous cheers and fanfares echoing over the freezing water, sending visible ripples through the fog.
In the VIP box at the highest tier of the stands.
Jerry wore a heavy black overcoat, leaning back in a spacious armchair.
Hermione and Fiona sat flanking him on either side.
Hermione had changed into sharp black high-necked robes, clutching the brass sensor used to monitor underwater magic pulses, her long legs pressed tightly together, her face grim and watchful.
Fiona, on the other hand, was far more relaxed.
Wearing her scorched leather coat, she rested her long legs directly across the front railing, taking a deep drag from a lit thin mint cigar, slowly exhaling hot smoke into the crook of Jerry's neck.
"Squad Two from War Operations just reached the opposite shore," Fiona murmured close to Jerry's ear, her hot breath scented with mint and liquor. "That fat woman Margaret brought three squads of Aurors to guard behind the judges' table. Karkaroff hasn't left his ship since dawn; probably sealing the poison canisters in the hold."
Jerry reached over and kneaded her inner thigh. Fiona shot him a flirtatious glare, pressing her hips closer into his embrace.
"Let them deploy it," Jerry said calmly. "The harder they poison the water, the faster Karkaroff dies."
Just then, the sharp clang of a bronze gong resounded from the platform below!
The acting chief judge, a high-ranking official from International Magical Cooperation, read out the rules of the task:
"The Second Task! Objective... the sunken ruins at the bottom of the Black Lake! Time limit: one hour! Retrieve your respective hostages or designated tokens! Champions... prepare!"
On the platform below, the five champions lined up.
Viktor Krum shed his heavy beast-pelt coat, baring his muscular torso. Chanting ancient Nordic Transfiguration incantations under his breath, his body twisted in a flash of white light, his head and neck rapidly morphing into the form of a shark!
Fleur Delacour wore a form-fitting powder-blue aquatic swimsuit, her alluring curves stretching in the cold air, the "Titan Frost-Crystal" Jerry had given her glowing with brilliant ice-blue radiance, completely shielding her from the surrounding chill!
Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter stood on the left.
Harry wore loose Gryffindor swimming shorts, his face as pale as paper. The thick bandages wrapped around his right leg were already soaked with moisture, but he gritted his teeth, chewing on Gillyweed provided by Moody, gills rapidly sprouting from his neck!
And on the far right, Draco Malfoy stood quietly at the water's edge.
He wore the dark-silver tactical leather diving suit tailored by Hermione, high-grade boots fitted with propulsion micro-arrays on his feet. His right arm hung naturally, the blackwood wand concealing the narrow rapier gripped firmly in his hand.
Draco slowly lifted his head, peering through the heavy fog toward Jerry in the highest VIP box, curling his lips into a cold smirk.
"The task... begins——!!"
Boom!
Five splashes sounded almost simultaneously across the surface of the Black Lake!
The turbulent waters instantly swallowed the five figures whole!
Screams from thousands of spectators in the stands vaulted into the sky, while beneath the surface, a bloody underwater hunt began in earnest!
A hundred feet below the surface.
The freezing lake water weighed down like lead blocks upon everyone. Darkness enveloped the surroundings, save for rotting giant algae swaying like phantoms in the undercurrents.
The moment Draco entered the water, he nimbly triggered the propulsion micro-arrays beneath his boots.
Hum!
A faint pale-blue water jet erupted from his soles! Draco shot through the water like a flying fish, three times faster than an ordinary wizard using a Bubble-Head Charm!
He pulled the brass plate Jerry had given him from his pocket.
The plate lit up the moment it hit the water!
A precise 3D underwater map unfolded clearly in his mind!
About sixty yards to his southeast in the pitch-black water, an immense, raging dark-green shadow swept past—the giant squid of the Black Lake!
And beneath the squid, around a cluster of sunken stone pillars, four coordinates radiating distinct magic signatures appeared! The brightest gold-and-red signature among them was none other than the key box to the Malfoy vault!
"Found it!"
Draco's eyes narrowed; executing a sharp high-speed turn underwater, he darted straight for the depths of the ruins.
However, a second before he crossed the threshold of the ruins' gates, the tranquil lake water around him suddenly boiled furiously!
A viscous, foul-smelling, pitch-black toxin violently erupted from the drainage port beneath the Durmstrang ghost ship nearby!
The toxin expanded rapidly underwater! Wherever it passed, vast patches of water plants rotted to yellow ash, and dozens of fleeing fish convulsed violently the instant they touched the black water, floating belly-up and dissolving into black sludge!
"Asphyxiation toxin!"
Draco's heart sank!
The wave of toxic black water surged like a greedy beast, not only instantly draining all dissolved magic from the surrounding water, but erecting a solid wall directly across the path to the hostages!
Harry Potter, catching up from behind, barely touched the edge of the black water before the gills on his neck flared with excruciating pain! Harry clutched his throat in agony, thrashing madly in suffocation, churning water everywhere!
Meanwhile, Krum's half-shark form let out a harsh hiss outside the black mist, the toxin clearly exhibiting a severe neutralizing effect against shark physiology!
High up in the stands, Karkaroff sat at the judges' table, his goatee twitching with cruel satisfaction.
Yet just as everyone thought the task was descending into catastrophe!
Deep underwater, a ruthless grin spread across Draco Malfoy's face.
"Want to play with poison?"
Draco sneered underwater, pulling a black metal sphere from his waist without hesitation!
That was the ultimate weapon Hermione had developed in the workshop using the self-detonation array principles of the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion—the High-Frequency Magic Disrupter!
Channeling his magic power into it, Draco hurled the metal sphere straight into the depths of the expanding black poison!
"Detonate!"
RUMBLE——!
An indescribable, terrifying underwater shockwave erupted a hundred feet beneath the Black Lake!
A violent magic disruption tempest whipped up a towering underwater vortex! The viscous asphyxiation toxin was shredded to pieces in an instant under the absolute high-frequency magical vibration!
Not only that, but the concussive aftershocks surged upstream, blasting directly toward the Durmstrang ghost ship floating on the surface!
CRACK——!
An earth-shattering sound of tearing timber exploded across the Black Lake!
Under the gaze of tens of thousands of spectators, the hull of the centuries-old Durmstrang ghost ship was blasted open with a massive hole several yards wide! Surging lake water poured in violently, and the colossal ship began listing and sinking at a visible rate!
In the stands, Karkaroff tumbled straight off his chair, biting his own tongue in shock, spitting a mouthful of blood!
"My ship...!! My ship!!"
Karkaroff shrieked in agonizing despair!
Meanwhile, deep underwater, Draco had already used the cover of the shockwave, his boot propulsion running at full throttle, tracing an arrogant silver trail as he ran his rapier through the claw of an intercepting merperson, plunging straight into the deepest recess of the ruins!
Clap!
Draco's slender hand clamped firmly around the key box to the Malfoy vault, radiating blazing golden light!
Elapsed time... seventeen minutes and forty seconds!
A record-breaking, total wipeout!
When Draco breached the surface holding the gold box, standing proudly atop the stone pillar in the center of the lake, the entire Black Lake grandstand fell into endless, frenzied roars of triumph!
Sitting in the highest VIP box, Jerry raised his golden goblet, clinking rims with the stunned Hermione beside him.
The mist over the Black Lake cleared, and the power structure of the wizarding world had been thoroughly pierced by this single blade.
Inside the abandoned alchemy workshop deep in the third basement level of the castle, dark purple anti-peeping runes drifted through the air.
The festive atmosphere from the Black Lake task hadn't completely cleared from the school, and the lingering heat of the celebration remained in the air.
Hermione held a freshly rewritten club roster, walking along the damp, long corridor.
She wore a form-fitting, short black wizard's robe that barely covered mid-thigh, paired with tight black leather boots that clicked crisply against the flagstones with every step.
Ten paces ahead on a stone bench sat Fleur Delacour, the premier champion of Beauxbatons, completely alone.
Fleur was pressing a slender, tender finger against the center of her collarbone.
The deep-blue Titan Frost-Crystal emitted an enchanting, cool azure halo in the dim corridor, accentuating her breathtaking face until she looked like a goddess descending to the mortal realm.
The corners of her lips curled up slightly; her long legs in black stockings were crossed, her toes tracing idle circles in the air, clearly still basking in the immense vanity and satisfaction of Jerry publicly gifting her this supreme treasure in the Great Hall.
Hermione stopped, tapping the stone wall lightly twice with her left hand.
"Miss Delacour."
Hearing the voice, Fleur tilted her cascading silver-blonde hair up slightly. Seeing it was Hermione, her brows raised, her hands resting elegantly across her knees as she leaned back against the stone seat, her towering, full breasts pushing upward into an exaggerated curve.
"Miss Granger?" Fleur's voice carried a rich, breathy French lilt, a winner's smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "The task is over; did you come to congratulate me on receiving my defensive gear as well?"
"I am here to extend an invitation on behalf of 'The Forbidden Eden'."
Hermione drew a dark-purple invitation trimmed with gold patterns from her robes, stepping forward and presenting it directly before Fleur.
A smile combining professional rigor with absolute dominance graced Hermione's pretty face; stepping half a pace forward, she leaned close to Fleur, exposing a large swath of snow-white cleavage to her view.
"'The Forbidden Eden' is Hogwarts' premier, most private core underground society. There are no tedious discussions on the history of magic here, nor any childish social games. What exists here are the finest alchemical resources in the entire wizarding world, the most secretive ancient magics, and... the core trust of Mr. Rosier."
Fleur looked at the dark-gold invitation radiating a faint scent of tuberose and balsam fir, her fingers pressing slightly tighter against the Titan Frost-Crystal.
She was already brimming with intense curiosity and infatuation toward that domineering, arrogant English boy after he personally fastened the necklace around her neck; hearing that this society was directly tied to Jerry's inner circle, a sharp glint flashed in her eyes.
"Core trust?" Fleur scoffed lightly, running a delicate finger along the edge of the invitation, rising from the stone seat. Stepping forward in her high heels, looking down at Hermione, her tone carried an unsettled yet stubborn pride: "Mr. Rosier promised me I could visit his private parlor after the task. Is this invitation of yours more enticing than his private parlor?"
"The private parlor is merely where he conducts business," Hermione stepped even closer, catching Fleur's slender wrist, pressing the invitation into her palm. "While Eden is where he vents and exercises total control. By the way, the Major Shareholder himself is waiting inside tonight to welcome new members."
Those words completely shattered Fleur's final shred of hesitation.
An intensely enchanting smile bloomed across Fleur's gorgeous, haughty face. Clutching the invitation, she smoothed her form-fitting powder-blue combat robes, highlighting her alluring, shapely figure to the absolute maximum.
"Since it is Mr. Rosier's domain... I have no reason to refuse."
The smile on Hermione's lips deepened. Without another word, she took Fleur's soft hand, turned, and led her toward the heavy ironwood door at the deepest recess of the basement.
Click!
The ironwood door shut heavily behind them; several powerful soundproofing and warding runes activated instantly, completely shutting out the cold wind and noise from outside.
Beyond the door lay not a damp workshop, but an ancient subterranean greenhouse magically transformed into something exceptionally luxurious, humid, and warm.
The air was dense with an overwhelming fragrance of tropical flora and scalding steam. The floor was carpeted in thick, soft, deep-crimson velvet; dozens of magical clouds glowing with pale pink light floated in mid-air; a massive curved divan several yards wide sat in the center; and to the side was a white stone bath overflowing with hot spring water.
The moment Fleur stepped into the greenhouse, her body shivered from the sudden heat and rich fragrance. Just as she was about to ask, Hermione had already slipped behind her soundlessly.
Clack!
Hermione fastened three brass anti-peeping locks onto the heavy wooden door.
She casually slipped off her black robes, revealing only a gossamer-thin black lace camisole underneath, her towering breasts and slender waist laid completely bare. Striding across the soft carpet with her long, snow-white legs, she picked up an exquisite crystal goblet from a nearby stone pedestal.
The goblet was half-filled with a thick, shimmering gold-and-pink liquid, tiny peach-colored bubbles constantly fizzing to the surface, radiating a sweet fragrance that made one's body go soft.
"This is Eden's signature initiation drink, 'Virgin's Nectar'."
Carrying the goblet, Hermione walked up to Fleur, the strict rigor on her pretty face melting into a wanton, wicked playfulness cultivated by Jerry. Resting a hand on Fleur's slender shoulder, she held the goblet to Fleur's lips.
"Drink it, and you will truly step away from those mediocre visiting students and become one of us."
Looking at the strange yet intoxicatingly sweet liquid, and then at Hermione's bold, sensual attire, Fleur's Veela pride lifted her chin slightly.
"Just a specialty drink; what premier vintage from France haven't I tasted?"
Fleur took the crystal goblet without a shred of suspicion, parted her tender, rosy lips, tilted her head back, and gulped down the thick, gold-and-pink liquid in several large swallows!
A few drops of the scalding, shimmering fluid spilled from the corners of her mouth, sliding down her snow-white neck into the deep cleavage of her powder-blue robes.
"So sweet..."
Fleur wiped her lips, just about to laugh, when her expression twisted violently in a fraction of a second!
Boom!
The immense potency—carefully concocted by Hermione, infused with high-concentration alchemical aphrodisiac gel and secret elixirs from the Jiuyou Abyss—erupted like a violent volcano the moment it hit her stomach, surging madly through her bloodstream into every limb and bone!
"Aaaah!"
Fleur let out a piercing cry, her knees giving way, collapsing instantly onto the thick crimson carpet!
Her cool skin turned scalding hot in an instant, flush after flush of alluring pink spreading across her snow-white flesh at a visible rate. Her bones felt melted, as if tens of thousands of ants were crawling madly through her meridians; an indescribable, intense aching and void flared especially between her inner thighs and at the tips of her breasts!
"What... what kind of potion is this? Granger! What... what did you do to me?!"
Sprawled on the carpet, Fleur's long, fair legs clamped and twisted uncontrollably, her silver-blonde hair flying wildly; clutching the front of her powder-blue robes with both hands, she gasped like a fish out of water, her body convulsing in violent tremors.
Hermione walked over barefoot.
Looking down at this Beauxbatons premier champion who was normally so proud and aloof, Hermione's eyes brimmed with amusement and excitement. She raised a snow-white bare foot, wickedly stepping right between Fleur's heaving breasts, grinding her toes firmly into the full flesh!
"Training you, noble French champion."
Hermione giggled softly, pulling a long purple feather tickler from the leather sheath at her calf.
"Did you really think the Major Shareholder's gift was so easy to take? That Titan Frost-Crystal is a collar, and you... are merely prey delivering yourself to our door tonight."
"Let me go... you... aaaaah!"
Before Fleur could finish cursing, the purple feather tickler in Hermione's hand slipped precisely into the zipper seam of Fleur's powder-blue robes, lightly brushing across the hyper-sensitive flesh at her waist!
Having had her entire nervous system fully sensitized by the potion, how could Fleur endure such torment?
The moment the feather grazed her, Fleur arched and thrashed across the carpet like an electrocuted eel! Wave after wave of ragged moans and shrieks tore from her mouth; clawing frantically at the carpet, her eyes rolling back, her thighs clamping dead tight, massive gushes of clear, slick fluid soaked straight through her panties, stamping an obvious wet stain between the legs of her robes!
"It itches! It's so hot! Waaah... stop brushing! Granger! I beg you, stop!"
Fleur's haughty dignity was thoroughly trampled to dust in this moment; she wept and begged for mercy, her long body twisting madly across the floor.
Hermione's laughter grew even more uninhibited; crouching down, she grabbed the hem of Fleur's robes with both hands and yanked outward with force!
Riiip!
The exquisite powder-blue robes were stripped down below her waist in an instant, baring Fleur's pink-and-white lace lingerie beneath. Those towering, firm breasts—hardened and erect under the potion's influence—bounced wildly in the air.
Hermione reached out with both hands, grabbing those heavy breasts, digging her fingers into the soft mounds, squeezing and kneading them inward with intense force!
"Look at you, French Veela—saying no with your mouth, yet your body is burning like red-hot iron."
As Hermione spoke, her thumbs pressed firmly against Fleur's hardened nipples, kneading until Fleur let out sharp, wanton wails, her long legs kicking wildly in the air.
Right as Fleur was pushed to the brink of fainting, her sanity dissolving entirely under the torture of the potion and Hermione's hands!
BOOM!
The hidden door on the side of the stone chamber was pushed open by two strong hands!
Jerry had taken off his black coat, wearing only a half-unbuttoned black shirt, exposing his firm chest and abs. With his hands in his pockets, stepping across the wet floor tiles, he strode into the greenhouse radiating the cold aura of an absolute ruler.
Behind him, the hidden door slowly clicked shut.
"Major Shareholder!"
Seeing Jerry enter, the wicked smile on Hermione's face instantly shifted into fawning devotion. Running over barefoot, her petite body threw itself into Jerry's embrace, her hands expertly unbuckling Jerry's belt, releasing that massive, purplish-red, forearm-thick giant from his trousers!
Sprawled on the carpet, the moment Fleur saw this colossal object, she was so terrified she forgot even to weep.
Her delicate mouth gaped wide, panting in ragged gasps, her eyes locked onto that massive shaft far exceeding normal human proportions, her body convulsing violently from pure terror and the raging lust stoked by the potion!
"What... what is that... how could that ever fit inside..."
Fleur stammered in shudders, saliva still clinging to the corners of her mouth.
Jerry let out a cold smirk, striding forward. Stepping one foot onto the edge of the divan, he grabbed Fleur's silver-blonde hair, pulling upward with force, lifting her long frame completely off the floor and slamming her down heavily into the center of the massive divan!
"Whether it fits or not, you'll know once we try."
Jerry mounted the divan, looking down at the gorgeous French beauty sprawled limply before him.
Hermione climbed onto the divan in full cooperation, grabbing Fleur's long, snow-white thighs with both hands, pulling them wide apart into an exaggerated M-shape!
Fleur's pink lace panties, long since drenched with love juices, were stripped down to her knees by Hermione, exposing the pink, soaking-wet slit and swollen labia beneath!
Copious amounts of clear, viscous nectar gushed wildly from Fleur's crevice, drenching a massive patch of the deep-crimson velvet underneath!
"No... don't... Mr. Rosier... I beg you..."
Fleur wept weakly, yet driven by the void of the potion, her long legs actively coiled around Jerry's waist!
Jerry offered no foreplay whatsoever...
When Jerry finally pulled his still-rock-hard shaft from her canal, a loud popping wet sound echoed through the stone chamber.
Fleur lay completely paralyzed in the center of the divan, her long white thighs spread limply, her interior filled to absolute bursting, thick white cream slowly oozing from her swollen lips. Her gorgeous, haughty face was covered in tear streaks and white froth, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, her lips twitching in faint murmurs:
"Eden... I belong to Eden now... Master Jerry's big thing... is too incredible..."
Hermione crawled into Jerry's embrace, tilting her little face up to plant a kiss on the corner of Jerry's mouth, the light of a victor gleaming in her eyes.
"Major Shareholder... are you satisfied with how this new member was trained?"
"Of course!"