The wheelchair-bound warrior is speedrunning Hogwarts.

Clearly, Kreacher had been diligently managing the place while she was away.

“The young lady’s room is ready,” Kreacher said, pushing Vera through the dimly lit corridor. “Kreacher did not touch anything that should not have been touched, as instructed by the young lady.”

“Well done, Kreacher,” Vera praised it softly.

For a house-elf like Kreacher, who has been subservient for generations, being treated with such a peaceful and polite attitude by its master is enough to make it utterly devoted.

Her bedroom was on the second floor, east side. The heavy curtains were drawn back, and the setting sun shone through the gleaming glass windows, dispelling some of the gloom.

The room was spacious but simply furnished, with only the necessary bed, wardrobe, and desk; there were almost no other decorations. It was much the same as when she left—clean but deserted.

“I’m a little hungry,” Vera said gently as she entered the room. “Go and prepare dinner.”

"Yes, Miss." The house-elf bowed and disappeared with a snap.

For a moment, she was the only one left in the room.

A silence instantly descended, deeper than ever before at Hogwarts.

There was no sound of Harley turning pages beside him, no soft rustling of Hermione turning pages, no distant noise from the common room, and not even Knox's snoring.

It ran off on its own as soon as it entered the door, and I don't know where it went.

A familiar, slightly chilly sense of emptiness enveloped her.

Vera pushed her wheelchair to the window and looked out.

Grimmauld Place was shrouded in the typical London gray sky, with pedestrians hurrying by and vehicles shuttling back and forth. It was a Muggle world that was completely different from the one she had just left behind, a world of routine and order.

She watched for a long time until the last rays of the setting sun were completely swallowed by the city skyline, and the room fell into darkness.

Her fingertips unconsciously brushed against the star bracelet on her wrist, the cool metallic touch bringing her back to her senses.

Strange, she had spent several months in this room before and hadn't noticed anything wrong with it.

Why do I start missing them so soon after we've only been apart?

Vera gently stroked the star pendant on her wrist, the cool metal gradually warming up with her body heat.

Outside the window, London's night deepened, and streetlights lit up one after another, outlining the city's cold silhouette.

It was so different from the brightly lit castle of Hogwarts, the star-studded night sky, and the always chattering companions around me.

A subtle, unfamiliar emptiness crept into my heart like a tide.

She could even clearly recall last night, when Harley was squeezed into her bed, breathing evenly, one hand unconsciously clutching the hem of her clothes;

Hermione was turning the pages of a book on the opposite bed, occasionally letting out a soft sigh; Knox was curled up at her feet, the tip of his tail occasionally brushing against her ankle...

Now, there is only silence.

It really is... a bit hard to get used to.

……

Kreacher prepared a standard English meal, delicate but lacking in warmth, quietly set on a long table covered with a clean white tablecloth.

The long dining table could easily seat more than a dozen people, but at this moment she was all alone.

Vera ate quietly, unusually with little appetite, barely managing to eat a little before putting down her knife and fork under Kreacher's hesitant gaze.

“Kreacher,” she said softly.

"Miss, is it that Kreacher's cooking doesn't suit your taste?" The little elf shuddered and immediately asked timidly.

Vera smiled and said, "No, I... I recently got a pet, and I might need your help with something."

Not just Hermella, but also Luwei; she'll bring the child back soon.

two months.

She had many things to do: researching magic circuits, practicing ancient magic, and taking care of Hemera and Luwei…

She doesn't have much time; today is the only time she has to grieve.

The author's words:

Vera's imagined summer vacation: Harley and Hermione must miss her terribly and be hoping for her to write to them every day.

The actual summer vacation: I was already thinking about other people on the very first day of the vacation.

Chapter 135 Summer vacation is the perfect time to overtake others!

Upon hearing that his little master was raising a fire dragon, Kreacher's large, bulbous eyes widened even more, and his pointed ears trembled violently.

"A dragon? Miss, that's too dangerous!" It excitedly twisted its tattered tea towel, its voice rising, filled with fear and disapproval.

“This is an order, Kreacher,” Vera’s voice was calm but unquestionable, interrupting the house-elf’s potential long-winded speech. “I need you to prepare a large quantity of fresh meat, as well as other food and supplies that the dragon needs.”

She paused before softening her tone and saying, "It's safe, Kreacher. If you'd like, I'll take you to see it once everything is ready."

Kreacher seemed to want to say something more, but his absolute obedience to his master's orders overwhelmed his fear of the dragon.

It bowed deeply, its nose almost touching the floor: "Yes, Miss! Kreacher will take care of everything and won't let anyone know about this!"

“Very good, go ahead.” Vera nodded.

Kreacher bowed again and disappeared with a snap.

She was left alone in the restaurant again, and silence descended once more, heavier than before.

She pushed her wheelchair and went straight to the training room instead of returning to the bedroom.

Pushing open the door to the room at the end of the fourth-floor corridor, you'll find that Kreacher has reinforced it again. The walls and floor are engraved with protective runes, enough to withstand the power of most spells.

The wheelchair glided silently across the cold floor. Vera didn't turn on the lights, letting the thin London night light filtering in from the window mingle with the faint embers of the fireplace, barely illuminating a small area.

She needed to do something to dispel the inexplicable, lingering feeling of unease that arose from the separation.

She lightly touched the wall with her fingertips, trying to feel the ancient mansion itself.

Unsurprisingly, while Black's Old House has a long history, it is not an ancient magical creation like Hogwarts.

His magic circuits could only sense a cold, lifeless object, and he couldn't connect to it at all.

“…It didn’t work as expected.” She muttered to herself, but she wasn’t too disappointed.

It seems impossible for her to be aware of her surroundings as easily as she is at school during the holidays; she can only rely on her own alertness and magic.

Actually, this is for the best; relying on external things is not a long-term solution.

She needs to learn to adapt to this feeling instead of letting herself continue to depend on it.

She pushed her wheelchair to the center of the training room and slowly closed her eyes.

As the mind sank into the body, the increasingly powerful magic flowed slowly along the constructed magical circuits.

She guided him carefully, no longer trying to communicate with the outside world, but purely perceiving herself, perceiving the three powers from different magical creatures that had become one with her.

As the agility and strength bestowed by the three-headed dog awakened from their slumber, Vera slowly rose from her wheelchair, looking down at her legs, which, with the aid of magic, were able to stand again.

Meanwhile, the hardened scales that Hemera the Little Dragon brought, which provided solid protection, were also flowing invisibly beneath her fair skin.

And... there's also the newly acquired Unicorn Blessing, which greatly extends her combat duration.

She looked at the dummy target in front of her, her fingertips twitched slightly, and the wand silently slid into her palm.

“Fragmented.” she whispered.

A sharp white light flashed and struck the dummy's arm precisely, leaving a shallow mark.

Of course, there was a reason for her deliberate control, and also because the dummy itself was inscribed with a lot of protective magic, making it easier for the Black family wizards to practice spells more freely.

not enough.

She needs to be more precise and stronger.

She began to move, her mimicking legs creating a faint rustling sound in the dim light.

It was no longer a simple straight-line attack, but incorporated more changes of direction and evasion, just like when we were traversing and leaping through the Forbidden Forest, each step was light and silent.

"They've all collapsed!" "All petrified!" "Immediately imprison them!"

The spells were fired one after another, and several beams of light flashed alternately around her.

She would sometimes rush forward rapidly, and sometimes stop abruptly, the trajectory of her wand swinging becoming increasingly tricky, attempting to simulate the most unpredictable attack angles.

As her strength began to wane, sweat gradually soaked her hair, and her breathing became rapid.

Magic surged through the magical circuits, and the powers of the three magical creatures were gradually activated and utilized—

The faint glow of hardened scales flashed beneath the skin, deflecting the occasional, weak aftershocks of the incantation that bounced back from the dummy.

The warmth brought by the unicorn's blessing also flowed through her body, supporting her through her exhaustion.

But that's not enough...

She gasped for breath, recalling her brief but thrilling encounter with Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest, and the perilous confrontation with Voldemort in the final room.

Practicing with cold mannequins simply cannot simulate the oppressive and uncertain atmosphere of real combat, where everything changes in an instant and lives hang in the balance.

She needs a sparring partner who is of equal or even greater strength and absolutely trustworthy.

Once the thought arises, it's hard to stop.

Vera slowly stopped moving, feeling the fatigue in her body after the strenuous exercise and the slight buzzing of her heartbeat in her chest.

Trustworthy and powerful enough...

"Kreacher," she called softly, her voice ringing out clearly in the empty training room.

With a loud crack, Kreacher appeared.

However, upon suddenly seeing Vera standing normally, it trembled with excitement, its huge eyes filling with tears.

The little elf twisted the tea towel excitedly, her voice choked with emotion: "Merlin... Kreacher, Kreacher is so happy! Miss can finally..."

“This is temporary, Kreacher,” Vera interrupted, sighing softly. “It’s just a magical effect; my legs… are not truly healed.”

Kreacher paused for a moment, and sadness inevitably returned to his large eyes.

“Don’t cry, this is just the beginning,” Vera gently comforted it. “Believe me, I will be fully recovered soon.”

"Yes, Kreacher believes in you, Miss. Kreacher knows you can do it!" The elf, no longer in his prime, sniffed hard and wiped his eyes vigorously with a tea towel.

Vera looked at it, a hint of consideration flashing in her eyes.

House-elves have a different magical system than wizards. They cast spells swiftly and silently, and their power is considerable. House-elves from ancient families like Kreacher, in particular, may have more combat experience than she imagined.

More importantly, as Kreacher's master, as long as he gives the order, Kreacher will not reveal a single secret about her current situation, even if it means death.

“Kreacher,” she said earnestly, “now, I need you to do something for me.”

Upon hearing this, the little elf puffed out his small chest and said, "What does Miss need Kreacher to do? Kreacher is willing to do anything for Miss!"

Vera stared intently at it: "Treat me as an intruder who needs to be subdued, and then... attack me with any magic you can think of, as long as it's not lethal."

Kreacher's eyes widened again, and it took a step back in fright, shaking its head vigorously: "No! No! Kreacher must not hurt Miss! Kreacher swears to protect Black—"

“This is an order, Kreacher.” Vera’s voice was calm but carried an undeniable power. “I need to become stronger, and you are the only one here who can help me.”

As she continued speaking, the house-elf's face was filled with pain and struggle, as the instinct to obey its master's commands and protect its master clashed fiercely in its brain.

It clutched its large, bat-like ears, shook its head frantically, and let out a whimper.

“Kreacher…” Vera softened her tone, “You’re not hurting me, you’re helping me.”

Imagine if, when real danger strikes, I were injured or even killed because of insufficient training… wouldn't that be your dereliction of duty?

These words seemed to touch Kreacher, who stopped sobbing, raised his tearful eyes to meet Vera's gaze, and sobbed silently.

“Kreacher,” Vera reached out her hand to it, “you were the person my father trusted most. Now, I trust you just as much as he did, and I believe you can handle things properly.”

Kreacher's small body trembled violently, and large tears rolled down from his bulbous eyes, hitting the cold floor.

Vera's words, especially the last one, "trust," were like a heavy hammer, shattering her last resistance.

It suddenly blew its nose with a tea towel, making a loud sobbing sound, and then straightened its already hunched back.

“Kreacher understands.” Its voice was still choked with tears, but now held a hint of resolve. “Kreacher will obey Miss’s orders…Kreacher will help Miss train…but Kreacher will never truly harm Miss! Kreacher swears!”

This was the biggest concession Kreacher could make. Vera smiled slightly and nodded: "Very well, then... let's begin."

“Yes, Miss.” Kreacher’s voice still trembled, but he slowly raised his thin, bony fingers, and magic began to gather at his fingertips. “Kreacher… as you command.”

The next moment, a silent binding spell shot towards Vera's wheelchair like a venomous snake!

Vera's pupils contracted, and her mimic legs instantly exerted force, propelling her to the side and backward like an arrow. The original wheelchair was struck by the spell, emitting a piercing twisting sound, and one of its wheels went flat.