Five meters above ground, the students attempted low-altitude flying practice.
Draco Malfoy, meanwhile, had brought his cronies over to Harry Potter's side.
Within moments, the two were bickering, with surrounding students gathering like spectators at a show.
"Theodore, do you realize what you're doing?"
"Actually showing favor to a beast?"
Blaise Zabini didn't respond, instead flying with several pure-blood Slytherin students to Theodore Nott's side, his seemingly questioning tone laced with profound bewilderment.
Slytherin had no need for beasts. Tiger's incompatibility made everyone deeply uncomfortable.
Elegant, composed mannerisms.
The hierarchical order of pure-blood nobility.
Before Tiger, it all seemed like a steaming pile of fresh dung. No Slytherin would tolerate such contempt—it was utterly humiliating.
Upper-year students, influenced by their prefects, buried this discomfort deep within and chose temporary indifference.
Lower-year students, intimidated by Tiger's presence, couldn't straighten their spines and could only resort to avoidance.
But in every Slytherin's eyes, their behavior wasn't passive ignorance and evasion—it was active isolation.
They weren't reckless lions who'd charge foolishly before a beast to issue challenges.
They watched coldly, waiting for their moment, waiting for this barbaric, crude Squib beast to stumble into someone's trap...
"Blaise."
"Do you lot realize what you're doing?"
Theodore Nott's gaze was glacial and hollow, his lips twitching slightly as if mocking their tedium.
"Don't tell me..."
"You didn't notice that Burstrode bloke—he bowed to Shelby. You know he did."
His calm tone was chilling upon reflection.
Blaise Zabini pressed his lips tightly together. Of course he'd noticed.
As male prefect, Atlantis Burstrode's pedigree and capabilities were beyond question.
Yet he couldn't fathom it.
In the end, he could only reluctantly attribute this inadvertently witnessed scene to Burstrode's fear of the Obscurus.
Family tomes clearly recorded:
[An Obscurus losing control is akin to natural disaster—even trolls refuse to face it...]
"Blaise, humans are born to revere strength. This is eternal truth."
"You may despise Shelby, but maintain respect for power. It protects you as well."
Theodore Nott regarded his friend meaningfully, his indifferent tone suddenly revealing mockery.
"Besides, since when did you become more naive than Malfoy?"
"Even he knows to avoid danger, to remain silent and patient when facing beasts."
"Code of Conduct, Article Twenty-Four."
"You just recited it yourself."
With that, Theodore Nott ignored the others, turning his head slightly to gaze with penetrating eyes at Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, who had suddenly taken flight.
After hearing Theodore Nott's words, several Slytherins fell into eerie silence.
Slytherin Code of Conduct, Article Sixty-Nine: You may assess circumstances, but never grovel before enemies.
Shelby wasn't an enemy.
Though Theodore Nott's deferential behavior toward Shelby made them feel humiliated, upon careful reflection, Theodore hadn't done anything wrong—he'd simply done what a Slytherin should.
"Heh..."
"Theodore, I understand your concerns, but this is Hogwarts. This is Slytherin."
Blaise Zabini's throat felt parched. He attempted to convince his friend—or perhaps himself.
"We won't face any danger. Shelby must be bound by rules. He must submit to Slytherin's order. He's too volatile—it's not good for anyone."
"Gemma Farley won't tolerate this indefinitely. Sooner or later she'll come to us, demanding we—"
"Then I can only wish you luck."
Observing Harry Potter's spectacular aerial maneuver, Theodore Nott snorted derisively and descended toward the ground, his detached, ethereal voice lingering in the air.
"When tigers kill antelope, they don't consider order, much less morality."
"Blaise, for friendship's sake—look into his eyes more often. You'll understand."
As early as the opening feast, Theodore Nott had noticed Tiger.
Domineering, tyrannical, discourteous...
And suffocating.
He couldn't identify the source of this sensation, but he glimpsed much in Tiger's gaze.
It was how adults regarded children.
Mockery, irritation, dismissal.
And utter disdain.
Slytherin's rules, in this beast's eyes, resembled scripts children created for playing house. Shelby wasn't as simple as he appeared.
And they—these pure-blood nobles...
Theodore Nott detected hunger and avarice in Tiger's stare, identical to how Crabbe and Goyle eyed drumsticks.
Are we food?
This thought arose quietly in Theodore Nott's mind. He couldn't be certain, yet dared not dismiss it...
Nearby, Madam Hooch hauled down Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.
Theodore Nott watched with vacant eyes—Draco Malfoy's shameless sophistry, his threats toward Harry Potter.
Honestly, regarding Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott felt disdain, but more envy—precisely why he befriended him.
He could sense familial warmth from Draco Malfoy, feel a child's willfulness, experience parental indulgence.
All things he'd never possessed.
Like a mouse born in shadows, only able to absorb that final trace of warmth in twilight's dying glow.
"Draco..."
"You're the fortunate one."
At Madam Hooch's whistle, the group reassembled. Theodore Nott walked over slowly.
Precisely because he was a mouse, he understood predators' terror and needed to seek shelter under darkness...
"Weasley?"
Stone grinding against stone rang out suddenly.
Seeing the twin brothers emerge from behind the wall, Tiger halted.
At the opening feast, the Weasley twins' funeral march had left quite an impression.
The twins hadn't expected anyone here and nearly jumped, but upon seeing Tiger, their identical faces became exaggerated to the extreme.
"Blimey, George! I'm not seeing things, am I!"
"No, Fred, you're spot on."
"Look at those solid muscles!" George used his own thigh to measure Tiger's wrist.
"Check out that terrifying glare!" Fred formed binoculars with his hands, studying Tiger's features.
In unison: "You must be Shelby's older brother!"
"No, I amShelby."
Tiger regarded the brothers with amusement.
Like a delightful stage performance—these two could lift spirits merely by speaking.
Venom's ghastly pale eyes manifested, confirming his identity and prompting the twins to throw up their hands with soft exclamations.
"That's absolutely brilliant, mate!"
"You're definitely the Halloween King!"
George and Fred circled Tiger, examining him like a priceless artifact.
"Oi, mate."
Fred familiarly slung his arm around Tiger's back, his grin meaningful as he lowered his voice:
"We've cooked up something special, but we need a spot of Aging Potion. Fancy a trade?"
"Absolutely won't shortchange you!" George produced a heap of fireworks and sweets from his bag.
"I haven't got Aging Potion."
Somewhat uncomfortable with this presumptuous familiarity, Tiger lifted the continuously exclaiming Fred and deposited him beside George.
"Come on~ Don't be like that, brother." The twins wailed disappointedly.
"Trust us!"
George embraced Tiger's thigh like a theatrical performer, sobbing dramatically.
"We absolutely won't breathe a word! Plus we'll give you an unexpected surprise!"
(?n?)(¤n¤)
"I simply had some accidents."
"Early physical development, that's all."
Tiger lifted the continuously exclaiming George and placed him beside Fred, speaking earnestly:
"But I'm bloody starving right now."
"If you can help me find food, I don't mind procuring some Aging Potion for you."
"Oh! Absolutely no problem!"
The twins' eyes blazed with excitement. As if fearing Tiger might reconsider, they both bowed in perfect synchronization:
"Please follow us, magnificent Halloween King!"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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