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As soon as she finished speaking, she raised her hand and waved it lightly. The power of the condensed source flowed out from her fingertips, and the golden light, like fine threads, slowly wrapped around the twisted black shadow.

The remnant soul seemed to sense a fatal threat and suddenly began to struggle wildly. Its piercing screams broke through the thin mist; it was Voldemort's cold roar.

Harley's face turned pale instantly, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on her forehead. Her consciousness swayed slightly under the malicious impact.

Vera immediately stepped forward and shielded her behind her. Hogwarts' protective will was unleashed, and a golden barrier firmly blocked all the malice from entering.

“Listen, Harley,” Vera said, putting her arm around her shoulder tightly. “Now you have two choices—stand here and wait for me to destroy it, or we can work together and use your own will to drive it out of your body.”

Of course, the two choices come with different costs.

Choosing the former would certainly ensure that Harley's soul would not be corrupted, but Vera would have to use her own magic to forcibly crush this remnant soul, which is equivalent to directly confronting the source of Voldemort's remaining curse. If she is not careful, she will be devoured by the dark magic, leaving behind an indelible hidden danger.

The latter requires Harley to confront the deepest fears of her soul and actively peel away and eliminate this filth with her own will and the power left by her mother.

Although the process will be painful, and she will have to face those cold malices, once she succeeds, her soul will be completely pure, without any hidden dangers.

The dark shape writhed wildly amidst the golden threads, each hiss emanating a chilling malice.

Harley stared at the distorted black shadow, her fingers gripping Vera's clothes trembling slightly, but she didn't take a single step back.

“If I were with you,” she asked softly, her voice sounding somewhat weak in the empty square, “would you get hurt?”

Vera paused for a moment.

She hadn't expected that, at such a moment, the first thing Harley asked was still about her safety.

"No." Vera took her cold fingers in her hand, her palm warm. "I will always be by your side."

Harley looked down at their clasped hands, remained silent for a few seconds, then looked up, the thin layer of fear in her green eyes gradually fading.

“Then I want to be with you.” She spoke, her voice much calmer. “This is something that resides in my body; I can’t always hide behind you.”

Vera looked at her and couldn't help but smile.

“Okay.” She squeezed Harley’s hand and led her step by step toward the churning black shadow. “Then let’s go together.”

Under Vera's control, the golden threads slowly tightened, binding the dark figure within a small space.

It struggled and roared, trying to tear apart the net of light that bound it, but could only futilely scatter fine black mist.

Harley stood before it, close enough to see the distorted fragments of faces in the black mist—Voldemort's, Death Eaters', and even those of strangers she had never seen before.

Every face screamed silently, every pair of empty eyes stared intently at her.

Her breathing quickened, and her heart pounded in her chest.

This is the remaining fragment of consciousness of the murderer who killed her parents, and this is the source of the name that made her bear the burden of "the girl who survived a great calamity" since childhood.

At this moment, it was right in front of her, weak, broken, and barely clinging to life, yet still radiating a nauseating malice.

Harley released Vera's hand and took a step forward.

“Lily Evans…” A broken, hoarse voice came from within the black mist, sounding like Voldemort's, yet also like many others, “Your mother… her foolish sacrifice… couldn't save you…”

Harley's eyelashes fluttered, but she didn't back down.

“She saved me.” Her voice was soft, yet exceptionally clear. “Her sacrifice allowed me to live, and gave me the opportunity to stand here and watch you become like this.”

The black mist surged violently, and the distorted faces began to blur and disintegrate, like wax figures scorched by flames.

"You think... killing me... will end it all?" A final roar echoed from the black mist. "I am immortal... I will return..."

“You have no chance anymore,” Harley said calmly, raising her hand to gently press on the lightning-shaped scar on her forehead.

The moment she finished speaking, she remembered that night in Godric Valley, and the image of her mother collapsing in front of the cradle after the flash of green light.

Those cruel memories, which were originally blurry, suddenly became clear at this moment.

From her father's fall to her mother's shrill cries, a flash of green light suddenly appeared.

Harley frowned instinctively, her breathing quickening, while Vera stood beside her, gently placing her hand on her shoulder.

Only after enduring those long few seconds did Harley finally feel a warmth.

Starting from the heart, like a drop of ink falling into clear water, it spreads slowly and steadily.

That was the protection her mother left her, the magic called "love" that Lily Evans nurtured with her life, which had been quietly sleeping deep in her blood for sixteen years and had never dissipated.

Harley opened her eyes, her green eyes gleaming with a light she had never seen before.

She raised her hand, palm facing the still-struggling mass of black mist. No spell, no wand, yet she could still wield such power—

"Voldemort, I command you, get out of my body!"

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a thunderclap splitting through the thin mist.

The golden threads tightened suddenly, as the will to protect Hogwarts resonated with the power awakening within Harley. The two lights intertwined, peeling away the filthy shadow inch by inch from the depths of her soul.

The black mist emitted a piercing hiss and twisted wildly, but it could not break free from the restraints of the light net.

Its edges began to crumble, like snowflakes falling off under the scorching sun, piece by piece, turning into fine black smoke that dissipated into the air.

Harley's face grew paler and paler, fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, and her lips trembled slightly, but she never withdrew her hand.

Vera stood beside her, continuously pouring her magic into the magic circle to support the golden light net.

She could sense that Harley's will was engaged in a final tug-of-war with that remnant soul, a painful and lengthy process, like pulling out the thorns rooted in the bones one by one.

But she didn't interfere; she simply stood quietly beside her, lending her her strength and warmth.

This is Harley's battle, and she is merely a witness.

After an unknown amount of time, the black mist finally let out a mournful cry, completely disintegrated, and turned into the last wisp of black smoke, which was shredded by the light net and disappeared into the thin mist.

Grimoire Square has returned to tranquility.

A thin mist drifted slowly, and sunlight peeked out from behind the clouds, bathing the entire street in a warm golden hue.

Harley staggered, and Vera reached out to support her, feeling her body trembling slightly, as if she had been soaking in ice water for too long and was finally being pulled ashore.

"It's over," Vera said softly, pressing her palm against Vera's cold back, gently transferring her warmth to her.

Harley leaned on her shoulder, panting heavily. The resolute look in her green eyes lingered, but it was gradually being replaced by another emotion.

"It's gone?" Her voice was hoarse and almost inaudible, yet carried a lighthearted joy, as if she had just escaped death. "Completely vanished?"

“Yes, there will be no more Voldemort in this world,” Vera gently patted her back to comfort her. “You did even better than I thought, Harley.”

According to her plan, after Harley peels it off, they will need to return to reality to destroy the fragment.

But Harley alone managed to destroy Voldemort's last remaining soul.

It seems that even though I changed many plot points, the prophecy was still not completely altered.

Harley buried her face in her shoulder, took a deep breath, and then another, as if to confirm that she was still alive and that this was not a dream.

"I did it." Her voice was muffled, with a slight nasal tone and a hint of pride that she herself didn't even realize.

“Yes, you did it.” Vera smiled and tightened her arms around her, holding her even more securely. “You’re very brave, Harley.”

Harley didn't say anything, but rubbed against her shoulder like a spoiled kitten. After a while, she raised her head, her green eyes still glistening with tears, but the corners of her lips were already curved into a smile.

“Of course,” her voice was still a little hoarse, but it had regained some of its former vitality. “I am Gryffindor.”

Vera was amused by her appearance, reached out to wipe the sweat from her forehead, and gently paused her fingertips on the lightning bolt-shaped scar between her eyebrows.

The scar was still there, but its color was much lighter than before, as if it had faded, and it was almost invisible in the morning light.

"The scar is still there?" Harley followed her gaze and touched her forehead, blinking in confusion.

“Yes, but it’s just a normal scar.” Vera withdrew her hand, took a half step back, and looked at her seriously. “The stuff inside has been completely cleaned out.”

Harley touched the scar and suddenly smiled. It was a soft smile, but brighter than ever before.

“Let’s go.” She took Vera’s hand and turned to look at the house behind them, which was faintly visible in the mist. “It’s nice here, but I want to go back.”

Vera nodded, her fingertips gently clenching in her palm.

The moment consciousness returned, the light of the Room of Requirement flooded back into my field of vision.

Hermione was still standing at the edge of the magic circle, her hand holding the wand trembling slightly, her brown eyes fixed on the two figures in the circle that were gradually separating, and she even held her breath.

"How are you?" Her voice was a little weak, but she forced herself not to step forward.

Harley opened her eyes, looked at Hermione, then at Vera beside her, before smiling. Her green eyes shone brightly in the warm light: "It's alright, it's all taken care of!"

Hermione's shoulders suddenly relaxed, her hand holding the wand dropped, and she strode into the magic circle. She grabbed Harley and pulled her up from the ground, along with Vera, and hugged them tightly.

"You almost scared me to death!" Her voice was muffled in Vera's shoulder, with a barely perceptible sob.

"Okay, it's alright now." Vera gently patted Hermione's back, then put her arm around Harley, and the three of them huddled together in the center of the magic circle.

Harley buried her face in Hermione's shoulder and chuckled softly, "Hermione, you're hugging me too tight, I can't breathe."

"Shut up." Hermione's voice still had a nasal tone, but her arms loosened a little, and she gently wrapped them around their waists.

The candlelight in the Room of Requirement flickered, casting the three shadows onto the wall, where they overlapped, like the intertwined roots of a tree.

After a long while, Hermione stepped back half a step, her brown eyes scanning back and forth between the two faces to make sure they were truly unharmed before finally letting out a long breath.

“So,” her voice regained its usual calm, though the last syllable still trembled slightly, “Voldemort’s last piece of soul… really vanished completely?”

"Mm." Vera nodded, bending down to gather the scattered magic array materials. "There won't be a Dark Lord anymore."

Hermione was stunned for several seconds, then suddenly chuckled softly.

The laughter was soft, yet it carried a sense of relief and lightness, like finally seeing the first ray of sunlight peeking through the clouds after a long rainy season.

She raised her hand to tidy up Harley's messy hair, and then couldn't help but hug Vera.

Watching the two of them hug each other, Harley blinked and subconsciously touched the scar on her forehead, her fingertips brushing against a cool patch of skin.

She paused for a moment, then suddenly said, "I'm a little hungry."

Vera and Hermione both looked up at her at the same time.

"What are you doing?" Harley felt a little uncomfortable being stared at, her ears turning slightly red. "After all this time, isn't it normal to be hungry?"

Vera couldn't help but laugh out loud, raising her hand to rub her face: "Let's go, there should still be food in the kitchen at this time."

The three of them finished setting up the magic array and had just stepped out of the House of Requests when they saw Sera waiting at the door.

Harley paused, instinctively shrinking half an inch behind Vera.

Hermione remained calm, giving a slight nod as a greeting, but her gaze swept between Sera and Vera.

Sera leaned against the stone wall in the corridor, first looking at Vera, then at Harley behind her, her gaze lingering for a moment on the faded scar on her forehead.

"Finished?" she asked, her tone as casual as if she were asking what she had eaten that day.

Vera nodded, took two steps forward, and naturally stood beside her: "Yes, everything went smoothly. When did you arrive?"

"I just arrived." Sera said casually, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and gently brushing her earlobe with her fingertips.

The movements were so natural, as if they had been done a thousand times, yet they made Harley's eyes widen slightly, and Hermione's eyebrows twitch up.

“That’s perfect,” Sera withdrew her hand as if nothing had happened. “I’ve saved dinner for you. Come to my place for dinner.”

“Sure,” Vera agreed readily. “Harley’s hungry, too.”

Harry peeked half her head out from behind her, her green eyes quickly scanning Sera's face before retreating back, muttering softly, "I...I'm not that hungry..."

Hermione didn't say anything, but quietly walked to Vera's other side and gently hooked her fingers around Vera's sleeve.

Sera saw all of this, a smile playing on her lips, and turned to walk ahead: "Let's go then, don't let the food get cold."

The four of them walked down the corridor. At first, Harley stayed behind Vera, but as they walked, she unconsciously walked alongside Hermione. However, her gaze kept drifting forward, landing on Sera's straight back and her long gray hair.

She recalled how this person had effortlessly defeated the Dementors in the Quidditch match, and the look in her eyes when she looked at Vera—a look she hadn't understood then, but now she did.

"We're here." Sera pushed open her office door and stepped aside to let them in first.

The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, bathing the whole room in a warm orange glow. Several simple dishes were laid out on the round table, still steaming, and the air was filled with the sweet aroma of toasted bread and pumpkin soup.

Harley's stomach let out a disapproving growl, and she immediately covered it, her ears turning bright red.

Sera acted as if she hadn't heard anything, walked straight to the table and sat down, gesturing with her chin: "Sit down, don't be shy."

The four of them sat around the round table and ate quietly for a while, the firewood in the fireplace occasionally crackling softly.

Harley buried her head in her soup, occasionally glancing up at Sera before quickly lowering her eyelashes again, like a small animal tentatively approaching unfamiliar territory.

Hermione ate slowly and deliberately, but her eyes never left the subtle interactions between Vera and Sera.

For example, right now, Sera pushes a slice of bread toward Vera, who naturally picks it up and takes a bite without even saying thank you.

That tacit understanding wasn't something that was deliberately cultivated; it came as naturally as breathing.