Amid the howling wind and pouring rain, Quirrell’s gaze lingered on Vincent…
…then shifted to the blood staining the reef.
Anyone seeing that much blood would have assumed there was no chance of survival.
Quirrell believed it.
So did Voldemort.
Behind them, the wooden hut shook violently.
Panicked voices echoed from within.
The door was about to open.
“Forget the beast.”
Voldemort’s cold voice carried through the storm.
“Harry Potter comes first.”
Quirrell immediately turned his wand toward the hut.
Rain washed across the reef.
It carried away scattered droplets of blood.
Yet the largest crimson stains remained.
Beneath the pounding rain…
Hidden from both Quirrell and Voldemort…
The seemingly lifeless least weasel smiled.
[Additional Talent Requirement: Cast 100 spells while in Animagus form.]
[Completion Progress: (100/100)]
The instant Quirrell had knocked him away…
Vincent had cast the spell he knew best.
Colovaria.
Instead of changing an object’s appearance…
He had changed the color of the rain-soaked stone beneath him.
The “blood” covering the reef was nothing more than a carefully crafted illusion.
It had fooled both Quirrell…
And Voldemort.
At the same time…
It completed the final requirement for his next talent.
A familiar notification echoed inside his mind.
[Prerequisite fulfilled: Cast 100 spells while in Animagus form.]
[Evaluating spell usage…]
[Selecting the most suitable talent…]
[Congratulations!]
[Talent Unlocked: Mastery]
[Your extraordinary combat instincts allow you to adapt mastered spells to your Animagus form. Once a spell has been mastered, it can evolve into a specialized Animagus technique.]
[Requirement: Cast any spell 100 times to unlock its specialized form.]
[Specialized Spells Unlocked:]
Colovaria → Fur CamouflageVentus → Whirlwind Assault
[Additional Talent Requirement:]
Master one specialized Charm, one Defence spell, and one Transfiguration spell.
Charm: (1/1)
Defence: (0/1)
Transfiguration: (1/1)
Vincent’s eyes fixed on the newly unlocked abilities.
He had cast Colovaria countless times while hiding aboard the buses.
He had practiced Ventus even more extensively with Neville before completing his Animagus transformation.
The descriptions slowly unfolded.
[Colovaria → Fur Camouflage]
While in Animagus form, your fur can perfectly match the surrounding environment, granting exceptional camouflage.
[Ventus → Whirlwind Assault]
While in Animagus form, you may cloak yourself in powerful winds, dramatically increasing your speed and impact.
Quirrell, completely unaware of what had happened, stared excitedly at the hut.
“Master!”
“How fortunate!”
“Harry Potter is about to die!”
“You shall reclaim your glory the very night you return to Britain!”
“I, Quirinus Quirrell…”
“…will have the honor of witnessing your triumphant return!”
Before he could continue—
“The weasel!”
Voldemort suddenly shrieked.
“Where is it?”
Quirrell froze.
He looked toward the reef.
The little beast had vanished.
Only the blood remained.
“It’s alive?!”
His expression twisted.
No enemy could be allowed to survive.
Especially not on the night his master was destined to rise again.
Frantically, Quirrell searched the reef.
He never noticed the smallest detail.
The bloodstained rocks…
Had become the perfect hiding place.
Vincent’s fur had already blended seamlessly into the crimson-and-gray surface.
The moment Quirrell looked away—
Vincent struck.
“Whirlwind Assault!”
A violent cyclone wrapped around his tiny body.
The storm itself seemed to part before him.
Rain exploded outward.
He became a blur.
Quirrell barely had time to react.
The least weasel shot through the air like an arrow.
Crash!
Vincent slammed directly into Quirrell’s right eye.
“AAARGH!”
Quirrell screamed.
His eyeball burst beneath the impact.
Blood poured from the ruined socket.
Before Quirrell could recover…
Vincent seized the man’s turban with his teeth.
Using the momentum of the whirlwind…
He landed atop Quirrell’s head.
Then attacked with everything he had.
His razor-sharp claws tore into the cloth.
“Get off!”
“You cursed little beast!”
The turban ripped open.
Beneath it…
Voldemort’s grotesque face was exposed.
Vincent’s claws raked across it.
Black blood seeped from countless fresh wounds.
The malformed face writhed violently.
Its features twisted into horrifying shapes as it screamed in agony.
Still…
Vincent refused to stop.
He immediately cast another spell.
Transfiguration.
Human Transfiguration was among the most dangerous branches of magic.
Even experienced witches and wizards avoided using it casually on living people.
Vincent had never attempted it before.
He didn’t know exactly how much force to apply.
Nor did he fully understand the consequences.
But he didn’t hesitate.
“NO!”
“STOP!”
Voldemort screamed.
His distorted face stretched unnaturally.
One moment it ballooned outward.
The next it collapsed inward.
The parasitic flesh fused to Quirrell’s skull convulsed uncontrollably.
Black blood sprayed from beneath the ruined turban.
Quirrell desperately took to the air, trying to throw Vincent free.
The whirlwind answered instead.
Another burst of wind exploded around the least weasel.
Using the momentum…
Vincent drove Quirrell headfirst into the reef.
The impact shook the entire sea stack.
Both faces scraped violently across the jagged stone.
“NO!”
“NO!”
“NO!”
Driven nearly insane by pain, Quirrell blindly thrust his wand behind him.
Again.
And again.
The tip struck Vincent’s sleek fur several times before slipping away harmlessly.
One desperate thrust missed completely.
The wand jabbed into Quirrell’s own ear.
Its tip immediately began glowing.
He didn’t care anymore.
Whether he destroyed Vincent…
Or blew off his own head…
Nothing mattered.
He was going to cast the spell.
A deafening crack of thunder split the sky.
At almost the same instant—
A flash of brilliant red streaked through the storm.
The spell struck Quirrell’s wand.
It flew from his grasp.
Spun high through the air.
Then disappeared into the sea with a distant splash.
A massive figure descended from above.
The entire reef shook beneath the impact.
Standing between Quirrell and the hut was a towering half-giant.
A huge black overcoat hung from his broad shoulders.
Rain poured from his tangled hair and thick beard.
In one hand…
He held a battered pink umbrella.
Rubeus Hagrid stared at the horrifying sight before him.
His eyes widened.
“Merlin’s beard…”
“What in blazes…”
“…are you?”
He slowly raised the pink umbrella.
Then pointed it high into the sky.
A jet of brilliant red sparks erupted from its tip, soaring upward before exploding across the storm clouds.
A distress signal.
The Aurors would soon know exactly where to look.