The girls fell to the floor, still unconscious, their breasts and intimate area covered just enough by the black roses Maxime had summoned. Skarooth's massive form moved steadily toward them, its eyes glinting with an eerie hunger.
Panic seized Hermione as she darted toward Maxime, desperation in her voice. "Please, stop it. You have the wand. You have control over Skarooth. What more could you possibly want?"
Maxime tilted Hermione's chin up with surprising gentleness, her towering figure casting a shadow over the young witch. "My poor, whiny Hermione," Maxime said mockingly, "the ritual is not yet complete."
Hermione, fueled by anger and hopelessness, swung her fist and delivered a punch to Maxime's chest. But Maxime barely flinched. She chuckled softly, "Oh, stop with the tickling."
Hermione's mind raced—what could she do? She had no wand, and the Skarwand's power was already in Maxime's grasp. There were no clear answers.
Maxime seemed to ponder for a moment before adding with a cold smile, "Well, the sacrifices of those three are non-negotiable. But as for you, Hermione... whether you live or die? That depends entirely on Skarooth. If it chooses to let you go, I won't stop it. But if it's hungry..." Her words trailed off.
Skarooth, still inching toward the girls, seemed to consider Maxime's words, its attention briefly shifting to Hermione as if weighing its options.
Hermione's heart raced as she watched Skarooth open its fangs, ready to strike Ginny. Without thinking, she ran toward the massive creature, her determination overpowering her fear. As Skarooth leaned in for the kill, Hermione swung her fist with all the strength she could muster, landing a punch on its face. The force barely deflected the creature's head, but it was enough to make Skarooth pause.
"Ow!" Hermione yelped, her hand throbbing painfully from the impact.
Skarooth's eyes snapped toward her, and it slowly turned, its full attention now on Hermione.
She staggered backward, losing her balance and falling onto the cold, hard ground. Panic gripped her as she tried to crawl away, her eyes never leaving the approaching beast. It moved with purpose, closing in on her, its fangs gleaming in the dim light.
But then something unexpected happened. As their eyes locked, Hermione felt an overwhelming connection, something she couldn't explain. Skarooth, who moments ago was poised to kill, hesitated. Its rage seemed to fade, and instead of attacking, the beast leaned down, brushing its massive face gently against Hermione's cheek.
Hermione sat frozen in shock, feeling the soft fur of the creature that only moments earlier had been her enemy. Skarooth no longer seemed like the terrifying monster it had been before. Something had changed between them, something deeper than she could understand.
Maxime screamed, stomping toward Hermione and Skarooth, "Kill her, you stupid beast."
Skarooth turned to Maxime, its gaze narrowing. In a swift, powerful motion, it pounced on her, knocking her off balance. The wand slipped from her grasp, rolling across the floor as she hit the ground.
Maxime's eyes widened in shock as she lay frozen beneath Skarooth's massive frame. The beast hovered over her, its sharp fangs mere inches from her face. A drop of saliva splattered onto her cheek, sending a shiver of disgust down her spine. She had never imagined losing control like this, especially over the very creature she thought she had tamed.
Skarooth let out a thunderous growl, its teeth bared, ready to strike. Maxime trembled, fear consuming her, the Skarwand now lying uselessly on the floor beside her.
Hermione, still in shock herself, watched the scene unfold. Skarooth had spared her and now stood over Maxime, poised to do the opposite. But something inside Hermione stirred.
"Skarooth, stop!" Hermione commanded. "Don't kill her."
To her astonishment, Skarooth halted immediately, its growl subsiding. The beast slowly stepped back, leaving Maxime lying there, terrified and vulnerable.
Maxime stared at Hermione in disbelief, her chest heaving. The power she had fought so hard to control had slipped through her fingers, and now, even the creature she had raised turned to Hermione for guidance.
She was still processing everything when Maxime's voice broke the moment, "Like you and this beast can—"
Before Maxime could finish, Skarooth swiftly slapped her across the face with its massive paw. Red claw marks appeared on Maxime's cheek, and she screamed in agony, "No, my face!"
Skarooth, uninterested in Maxime's suffering, turned away and brought the Skarwand to Hermione, gently placing it at her feet.
"It's for me?" Hermione asked, her voice soft.
Skarooth nodded slowly, and Hermione, with a mixture of awe and trepidation, reached out and took the ancient wand. As soon as her fingers wrapped around it, she felt an odd sensation. The mighty Skarooth began to fade, as though vanishing into thin air, but not before Hermione thought she heard a faint whisper, a farewell from the beast.
Suddenly, a sharp burning sensation flared up between her neck and chest. Alarmed, Hermione pulled down her top to inspect, revealing the symbol—a mark of three wands etched just above her bra. The burning subsided, but the mark remained, glowing faintly against her skin.
Her head spun as dizziness overtook her, and before she could react, the world blurred, and she collapsed onto the cold stone floor.