Honestly, that bizarre scene moments ago had made every hair on Tiger's body stand on end.
Venom had roared in his mind several times before he could barely wrench himself free from that intoxicated state.
This was a sensation Tiger had never experienced—that intense craving controlled by pure instinct was so alien it made his heart race with dread.
Second floor of the headmaster's office.
At the end of the staircase.
In Venom's infrared vision, a tall red thermal signature stood prominently, yet in normal sight, the space appeared completely empty.
[Found you, you bastard...]
Tiger crouched low in a predatory stance, coiled to strike.
Terrifying fangs unfurled as his muscled thighs tensed to their absolute limit...
"What did you see?"
"Explosions of fire, screams and wails, severed limbs and blood everywhere, horrifying sounds of mastication..."
"And despair..."
Dumbledore still vividly recalled the Sorting Hat's anguished expression when it had spoken those words, as though every second of that memory was pure torment.
When he snapped back to awareness, Venom's massive, nightmarish form had already assumed its attack position.
A thunderous crash shattered the silence—the floor cracked and buckled. Accompanied by deafening roars, Venom launched itself toward the staircase's end, its savage, merciless presence rushing forward like a suffocating wave.
Too late for verbal intervention, Dumbledore swiftly drew his wand, brilliant light erupting from its tip.
"Impedimenta!"
Venom's airborne body froze mid-lunge, as though trapped in an ethereal quagmire.
Invisible ropes materialized from all directions, binding Venom's limbs and torso with crushing force.
Silent casting of Incarcerous.
Flawless multiple spellcasting executed to perfection.
But this only enraged Venom further. Were it not in its weakened state, it could transform into bladed weapons at will, pulverizing these mystifying restraints and obstacles.
Now, it could only focus on protecting Tiger.
"Tiger, calm yourself."
"It's me!"
A steady, commanding voice rang out as Dumbledore's towering figure materialized within Tiger's field of vision.
Though bewildered by how Tiger had penetrated his Disillusionment Charm, this wasn't the moment for such considerations.
Seeing Dumbledore, Tiger initially froze—then struggled with renewed violence.
His suspended roars rattled the windows in their frames.
"Motherfucker!"
"I bloody knew it! You damn son of a bitch aren't worth shit!"
"Come down here and fight me one-on-one, you coward!"
"Fuck you sideways! Sour-faced bastard!"
"I'm gonna rip out your kidney stones and shove 'em back up the same bloody way!"
"Motherfucker..."
Regardless of Dumbledore's feelings, this F-bomb-laden, creatively vulgar tirade left the portraits of former headmasters speechless—their initial exclamations dissolving into indescribable silence.
Phineas Nigellus Black, perpetually dissatisfied with Dumbledore, twitched his beard slightly before suppressing a smirk and shaking his head with meaningful satisfaction.
"Dumbledore, Gryffindor having such an... outstanding student is truly what you deserve..."
"He's Slytherin."
Dumbledore cast him a mild glance.
Phineas Nigellus Black's smile crystallized, then he shrieked in disbelief.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
"Dumbledore! You senile bastard! You actually dare manipulate the Sorting—I'm going to—"
Deep purple flannel curtains suddenly unfurled, completely obscuring the portraits of former headmasters.
The furious screaming ceased abruptly. Dumbledore sighed with bone-deep weariness.
"Tiger, child, please calm down."
"Trust me—I harbor no ill intent."
Facing Tiger, who continued cursing and thrashing, Dumbledore explained with patient persistence:
"Please forgive an old man's curiosity. I'm simply somewhat... concerned about this Mr. Venom..."
"Wary, perhaps..."
"Yes, let's call it wariness."
"You understand—Hogwarts is filled with children. I must shoulder the responsibility of comprehending any creature that might pose danger to them..."
Utterly sincere and benevolent words, yet Tiger indicated he wouldn't believe a single syllable.
Like a massive feline caught in a snare—no matter how profusely the hunter apologized, it would bare its fangs in defiant resistance.
Dumbledore could certainly perceive this. The situation troubled him deeply, and he could even predict Venom's next gambit.
Tiger's profanity wasn't merely venting frustration.
It was calculated provocation.
The moment these restraints loosened, this enigmatic creature would seize Tiger and escape through the windows, then lurk in shadows during the days ahead, silently observing him...
Nobody desired such a creature's attention.
Himself included.
"Child, shall we sit and discuss this civilly?"
Dumbledore waved his wand with resigned helplessness.
Every door and window throughout the headmaster's office sealed itself with brick and stone—thick, seamless barriers.
The chamber's walls reflected faint metallic luster beneath the fireplace's glow.
Simultaneously, those dense, intricate ropes vanished entirely.
Venom, suspended in midair, lost its restraints and executed a perfect landing. Its massive weight pulverized the floor again, sending tremors through the entire structure.
Dumbledore's eye twitched.
It was deliberate.
He knew it was deliberate.
Recognizing their escape route was completely sealed, Tiger and Venom reluctantly abandoned thoughts of flight.
"Please, take a seat, child."
"Perhaps some chocolate?"
Like a weary patriarch, Dumbledore descended the stairs slowly and settled behind his desk, his smile radiating grandfatherly warmth.
Confronted with Dumbledore's invitation, Tiger didn't advance. Quite the opposite—he regarded the blood-crimson stone on the desk with profound suspicion.
"What the hell is that thing?"
A hoarse, ominous duet resonated throughout the chamber.
Venom's fangs and alabaster eyes receded like liquid mercury, revealing Tiger's fierce, volatile half-visage.
"Don't worry, Tiger."
"Truth be told, I hadn't anticipated the Philosopher's Stone would render you so... uncontrolled."
"The Philosopher's Stone?"
Tiger's eyes narrowed to predatory slits.
Despite considerable distance from the Stone, he could still sense that indescribable, magnetic allure.
"Indeed, but don't be concerned—it poses no harm whatsoever. Its creator was Nicolas Flamel—I believe you're quite familiar with him."
Of course he was familiar.
The mentor of the Shelby family's ancestor, Londo Shelby, and architect of the Shelby bloodline's magical heritage.
Tiger could still recall the fanaticism and regret coloring his father Lawrence's voice whenever he recounted this family history.
Observing Tiger's furrowed brow relax marginally, Dumbledore nodded and continued his gentle exposition:
"This stone transmutes base metals into gold and brews the Elixir of Life..."
"Most crucially."
"Its magic can facilitate the Shelby family's second magical awakening."
As his words concluded, Dumbledore studied Tiger silently—but what startled Dumbledore was Tiger's complete failure to mask the avarice and hunger blazing in his eyes.
Indeed.
Wealth, immortality, power.
Who could resist such temptation?
But you...
Must you be so bloody direct?
"So you're planning to hand this over to me?"
Venom retreated entirely. Under Dumbledore's flabbergasted gaze, Tiger licked his lips and strode purposefully toward the desk, his stare locked with deadly intensity upon the Philosopher's Stone.
He'd always embraced uncompromising masculinity, despising roundabout expressions and diplomatic niceties.
Whether desire or demand—real men had nothing they couldn't voice directly.
I want it. So bloody what?
Concealment and pretense, craving yet lacking courage to speak, affecting airs of nobility—what distinguished such behavior from sewer rats?
Whether through force or plunder.
He was determined to possess this stone.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
🤔 Want to know what happens next to the characters?
🤫 Eager to explore the untold secrets of this world?
✍️ Ready to read more of my wildest stories?
✨patreon.com/DarkGolds