The night was thick and dark.
Atlantis Burstrode was still in the washroom, persistently casting Freezing Charms on the Ashwinder eggs.
Tiger sat at the dormitory desk, writing letters.
Gunpowder sat quietly by the window, eyes blazing as he watched the "delicacies" swimming in the lake outside.
Under the warm glow of the desk lamp, Tiger's sharp features seemed somewhat softened.
"Dear Mum, I hope you'll still recognize me next time we meet."
"Don't expect me to say I'm heartbroken..."
Sealing the envelope, Tiger pulled another sheet of paper from his folder and began writing to his brothers.
"Arthur, Tommy, John—you Shelby idiots, how are you getting on..."
Before Tiger had entered school, Tommy had already begun preparing to establish a foothold in the wizarding world.
But this place was far more complex than it appeared. The shadows of pure-blood nobility lurked everywhere.
Even in the seemingly chaotic Knockturn Alley—as a gang member, Tiger could see this clearly. After all, in Surrey, the Shelbys operated the same way.
But the superstructure determines the foundation.
In the Muggle world, the Shelby family didn't lack protective umbrellas, but in the wizarding world, they were no different from Squibs—the lowest form of existence.
No wizard or institution would show mercy to Squibs, much less treat them as equals or cooperate with them.
This was an insurmountable chasm.
Many senior Slytherin students had already begun taking over their family businesses, and Tiger had gleaned considerable information from their conversations.
The wizarding world was both vast and small, and the interests within had long since solidified.
Pure-blood nobles firmly controlled their slice of the pie whilst secretly eyeing others.
For the Shelby family to snatch a piece from the pure-bloods would be like reaching for the sky.
And this was yet another chasm.
"Arthur, before I snap these idiots' necks, I need you managing the Shelby operations properly."
"You're not a soldier—you're a general. We're about to shift battlefields, and the rear can't fall into chaos..."
"Tommy, wizards' methods are impossible to guard against completely. We need more intelligence and better defenses. Keep cultivating Uncle Martin—he'll surprise you..."
"John, some Shelby business can see daylight, some cannot. Time to make a choice. You're not a bloody duck—no need to service so many women..."
Sealing the envelope again, Tiger exhaled lightly.
Creation was far less efficient than plunder—the Shelby family had built their fortune this way. But plunder inevitably produced bloodshed, and he didn't want his brothers facing any accidents.
So before that happened, Tiger needed to understand exactly how that organization called the Death Eaters had developed.
He'd heard Ron mention that the Death Eaters had once been the largest gang in the British wizarding world.
They reveled in slaughter, acted with violence, and enjoyed witnessing fear and wails before life faded.
After killing, they'd leave distinctive marks to intimidate opposing forces.
If not for Harry's additional explanation, Tiger would've almost thought Ron was describing the Shelby family.
But this was good news.
At least it showed the bastards of the wizarding world ate this stuff up—the Shelbys wouldn't need to change much...
Just then, Atlantis Burstrode emerged from the washroom, his gloomy, aristocratic eyes showing faint traces of satisfaction.
However, the moment he glimpsed Tiger, joy receded like a tide, replaced by indescribable fear.
"Boss, the initial brewing and preparation for the love potion are ready. We can proceed with final brewing tomorrow. If there's nothing else, I'll head back."
"Go ahead. You don't need to report these things to me." Tiger gathered his letters and waved dismissively.
"May you have a pleasant evening."
Atlantis Burstrode bowed slightly, not daring to look directly at Tiger. He stepped backward twice, then turned to open the dormitory door and quickly departed.
Looking at the closed door, Tiger's gaze was indifferent.
Venom's biomimetic transformation altered instincts, not thoughts—precisely why he hadn't included Atlantis Burstrode in his plans.
He feared Tiger, but that didn't prevent him from refusing Tiger's orders, just as humans feared wild beasts but didn't submit to their management...
"Gunpowder, fancy seeing the night view with me?"
Tiger planned to visit the Owlery tonight to send his letters. He turned toward Gunpowder.
"Meow!"
The cat immediately jumped down from the windowsill, climbed up Tiger's trouser leg to his head, then swept his tail as if urging him on.
After leaving the Owlery, Tiger didn't return but began wandering the castle.
The Weasley Twins had mentioned that the Ravenclaw common room boasted Hogwarts' most beautiful night view.
Tiger was filled with anticipation.
Hogwarts at night couldn't exactly be called quiet. The silent, dark corridors rustled with whispered conversations, with occasional ghosts drifting past.
But for some reason, those ghosts who usually loved pranks seemed to encounter their natural predator upon seeing Tiger, fleeing through walls with wailing shrieks...
Staring at his fingertips that had suddenly ignited, Tiger's expression was unreadable.
Though searing pain assaulted his nerves, he had no intention of extinguishing the flames.
The second magical outburst had made him suffer greatly—he had to understand what was happening.
Just as his fingertips turned to white bone, a hoarse cat's cry rang out at the corridor's end. Tiger clenched his fist, and the flames died.
"A cat?"
Tiger raised an eyebrow. Remembering the Weasley Twins' warning, he stroked his head.
"Gunpowder, lead it away."
"Meow~"
Gunpowder sat up straight and yawned lazily, the light in his blue-green eyes intensifying.
With a soft "pop," another Gunpowder materialized on Tiger's shoulder, then leaped lightly to the ground and padded toward the corridor's end...
"Mrs. Norris, what did you see?"
"Those annoying brats again?"
Filch suddenly turned, carrying his lantern with a sinister smile as he approached Mrs. Norris.
He relished these nighttime chase games.
All the daytime contempt and provocation would transform into ghostly terror at night, giving him immense satisfaction.
However, as the lantern's glow drew closer, Filch was astonished to discover Mrs. Norris grooming a small black cat at the corridor's end.
Her usually malicious expression had softened like melting ice, her murky eyes flickering with rare tenderness.
"Well, look at that~"
"What a little darling that's gotten lost."
Filch set down his lantern and scooped up Gunpowder, his tone reproachful.
"I told Dumbledore ages ago—these filthy-minded, rule-breaking little bastards can't care for pets. They can't even care for themselves!"
"You must be starving to have wandered out." Filch fumbled in his pocket for dried fish.
"Meow!"
However, Gunpowder suddenly leaped from his arms, mewed softly at Mrs. Norris twice, then turned toward the corridor's other end.
"Where are you going?"
Seeing Mrs. Norris follow, Filch reluctantly picked up his lantern and trailed behind.
Rounding a corner, he stopped abruptly.
"Meow? Meow?"
Under the dim yellow light, Mrs. Norris was turning in circles, her hoarse cries filled with confusion, as if searching for something.
But the little black cat had vanished—only barely perceptible black smoke lingered in the air...
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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