"I guess that's the only thing we can do." Astoria stretched her neck, glancing around cautiously. The eerie atmosphere made her uneasy—if not for her friends accompanying her, she might have been scared out of her wits.
As soon as they stepped about a hundred meters into the swamp, the dense canopy of banyan trees overhead completely blocked out the sky. Even sunlight couldn't penetrate the thick, interwoven branches.
Harry raised his wand, conjuring flames for illumination. The group moved carefully, stepping over tangled roots with expressions of tense vigilance, afraid that at any moment, some hidden creature lurking in the dark would grab their ankles and drag them into the depths of the murky swamp forever.
"Could that be the cinnamon tree?" Hermione suddenly brightened, pointing ahead.
Everyone looked up at once—and sure enough, a lone tree stood in the distance, its trunk and branches radiating a golden glow, standing proudly amidst the shadows.
It looked utterly out of place in the gloomy swamp, like a divine entity that had fallen into darkness.
The tree's entire surface shimmered with a metallic luster, and even its leaves glowed with golden light. The moment they stepped within a meter of it, a distinct, rich cinnamon scent filled the air.
However, it wasn't time to harvest it yet. The Moonlight Cinnamon could only be plucked when bathed in moonlight—attempting to do so earlier would disturb its slumber, and this ferocious magical plant would retaliate with razor-sharp leaves, mercilessly attacking any intruder.
This tree was no ordinary plant—it was a lethal magical organism.
Even wizarding books carried repeated warnings about it: Never attempt to harvest cinnamon from the tree during the daytime, unless you want to be riddled with holes.
Fortunately, they had arrived just as dusk was setting in.
They didn't have to wait too long—before their eyes, moonlight gradually spread across the swamp, draping it in a soft, silvery glow.
As the light touched the muddy waters, it was as if something deep within the swamp began to awaken. Faint ripples formed on the surface as creatures slowly emerged, their eyes gleaming with an eerie hunger as they absorbed the moon's gentle radiance.
The once-dark swamp transformed into a scene of ethereal beauty. It was like stepping into a dream—an enchanted realm where silver light cascaded like falling stars, shimmering upon the wet earth.
Astoria, mesmerized by the sight, instinctively reached out, wanting to touch the glowing particles that danced in the air.
The moment her fingers brushed against one of the glimmering lights, a searing pain shot through her hand.
She gasped in pain and immediately withdrew her hand.
The silvery glow she had touched trembled slightly before floating away into the night sky—leaving behind a smear of crimson where it had grazed her skin.
It was then that they realized—the beautiful silver lights weren't ordinary particles at all.
They were tiny, luminous insects.
They resembled fireflies, emitting a bewitching glow from their translucent bellies, luring in those drawn to beauty.
But unlike harmless fireflies, these creatures had needle-like mouthparts—sharp and cruel. The moment someone reached for them, those tiny fangs would pierce flesh and begin sucking blood.
Ginny clutched her injured hand, her eyes welling up with tears. "It hurts! It hurts so much!"
She couldn't believe that something so breathtakingly beautiful could be so deceptive—so merciless, even toward someone as lovely as her.
The scent of blood quickly drew more of the glowing insects toward them. The number of floating silver lights increased, swirling ominously in the air.
Hermione attempted a healing spell on Ginny's wound, but to her shock—the spell had no effect.
"I'll wrap your hand first. Bear with it," Hermione said quickly, pulling out a handkerchief to bandage Ginny's hand.
When she cast the spell earlier, she had sensed something strange—some sort of corrosive magical energy surrounding the wound, actively resisting healing magic. Instead of closing up, the injury seemed to worsen, oozing fresh blood.
"These damn bugs are multiplying!" Ron's voice was tight with unease. He instinctively took a step back but still stood protectively in front of his sister.
"They must be drawn to the smell of blood," Harry muttered, gripping his wand tightly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he prepared to cast a Fire Charm to ward them off.
But before he could do so, a sudden voice interrupted—
"Fire won't work on swamp creatures like these."
The four of them froze at the unexpected voice.
They turned toward the source and saw a bat hanging upside down from a tree branch.
Its scarlet eyes gleamed in the darkness, staring directly at them.
As the bat unfurled its wings and flipped upright, Nolan's figure emerged from the shadows.
He landed gracefully in front of Harry, his gaze sweeping over the floating silver lights with mild disinterest.
He didn't make a move. Instead, his eyes drifted toward Astoria.
"These creatures despise sunlight," he said simply. "They can't stand the presence of pure light energy."
Astoria's eyes lit up.
Raising her wand high, she began chanting an intricate, ancient incantation. The words flowed swiftly from her lips, growing in power until she finally called out—
"Sanctuary of Light!"
At that moment, a brilliant white glow burst from beneath her feet, expanding outward like a protective dome. The pure radiance enveloped them all, pushing away the suffocating aura of blood.
The silver insects, unable to withstand the holy energy, hissed and retreated, scattering into the darkness.
Astoria exhaled sharply, her face pale as she lowered her wand. The spell had drained her energy significantly, but at least the danger had passed—the creatures showed no signs of returning.
"Thank you for your guidance, Nolan," she said breathlessly.
Then, to everyone's surprise, her eyes turned dreamy as she gazed at him.
"I never imagined our fates were so intertwined," she murmured, practically starry-eyed. "Destiny has brought me to your side once more."
Nolan ignored her infatuated expression, his eyes instead settling on Ginny's injured hand.
"Her wound won't heal with magic alone," he stated flatly. "You'll need a mixture of Slime Extract and Thorn Grass essence. Soak her hand in the solution for three minutes, and it will recover."
Ginny's eyes were filled with tears—whether from the pain or the thought of her hand being permanently damaged, she wasn't sure.
"Then we should hurry and find Slime Extract and Thorn Grass!" Hermione declared, ready to take action.
But Ginny was in no condition to move, let alone go on a search.
Harry thought for a moment before making a decision.
"You two stay here with Ginny," he said. "Ron and I will split up and search for the ingredients."