In a haze, Corman Avery glimpsed a steam locomotive stationed at a platform.
The vast terminal stretched endlessly toward distant horizons, sparse and blurred silhouettes seemingly awaiting someone's arrival.
"Where... where am I?"
Unbearable agony gradually transformed into numbing void, devouring every fragment of his consciousness. Terror's ripples lapped gently at awareness's periphery before receding into distant memory.
The blessed relief from torment made Corman Avery's pupils slowly dilate, his lips involuntarily curving into a subtle arc as he surrendered to blissful oblivion.
"Corman! What are you doing here!"
"This isn't your destination!"
"Return immediately! Go!"
Suddenly, a familiar figure burst forth, shoving him from the platform without explanation. Corman Avery instantly regained lucidity, his bewildered expression morphing into pure terror.
"Grandfather?!"
"Flee this place! Run!"
The moment he tumbled from the platform, blindingly brilliant white radiance erupted.
Like the universe's primordial expansion or a black hole's ravenous contraction, it completely severed Corman Avery from old Avery upon the platform.
In light's final convergence, time seemed suspended. Corman Avery stared with disbelieving eyes as his grandfather's withered lips moved slowly.
"Live..."
Old Avery had been Voldemort's devoted adherent, perishing the day the Dark Lord vanished. Though he'd never met his grandfather physically, he'd conversed extensively with the family portrait.
"Exactly... I cannot die... I must survive... I must live!"
Corman Avery scrambled upright, staggering toward the white radiance's depths.
He remained young, possessed a glorious future, held family legacy awaiting inheritance, commanded vast wealth requiring expenditure—he couldn't perish like this!
Driven by desperate longing for existence and worldly pleasures, Corman Avery fought with every ounce of strength, attempting escape from this ethereal void.
However, only blinding white brilliance stretched before him—no colors, no contours...
Intense pain quietly resurged, becoming increasingly distinct and razor-sharp, radiating from his arms throughout his entire form.
As though millions of blades sliced flesh and soul, compelling him to decelerate, even making him yearn to retreat and confront that suffocating death platform.
"No... please... let me live... I don't want to die... please..."
"I'll surrender everything I possess!"
He screamed frantically within his heart's depths, every syllable saturated with helplessness and desperate pleading...
Within the hospital wing, Corman Avery's features contorted to absolute extremes, his desperate hunger for life and agonized whimpers reaching every ear.
Only Tiger remained completely unmoved.
He wanted these pure-blood imbeciles to witness clearly what constituted genuine enemies, what defined authentic gang warfare!
His frigid, vicious gaze didn't ripple whatsoever as thick knuckles positioned over Corman Avery's legs, bone-shattering sounds growing increasingly piercing.
Except for Raven Burke, the Slytherins curled upon their beds helplessly covered their ears, burying heads deep within pillows...
"Cease this, Tiger..."
Dumbledore's voice suddenly resonated like celestial music, halting this heart-rending torment.
Bone-crushing sounds terminated abruptly.
The Slytherins jerked their heads upward. Confronting this headmaster whom all their families despised, their shattered, pallid faces transformed into incredulous joy and profound relief.
As though all suffering and struggle discovered redemption within this singular moment.
"Don't worry, children."
"This represents merely a nightmare."
Dumbledore sighed softly, then waved his wand. The Slytherins gently succumbed to unconsciousness, and the dim hospital wing restored its silence.
[Damn it, the cops arrived.]
Venom cursed with palpable regret. Tiger also released his grip, turning with visible disgust.
This epitomized gang existence—you could force-feed someone excrement, but never before law enforcement.
Moreover, this particular officer exceeded his capabilities.
Subsequently, the obsidian slime blocking mouth and nostrils burrowed into Corman Avery's throat, his shattered, twisted limbs visibly commencing regeneration.
"Tiger, Hogwarts will protect every child, regardless of identity."
Dumbledore's tone remained gentle, yet only Tiger detected the underlying warning.
Where the bloody hell were you earlier?
Tiger shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Right, absolutely correct—magnificent Hogwarts..."
He couldn't even summon enthusiasm for nodding at the impending lecture, appearing thoroughly dismissive.
As symbiotic fluid returned, Tiger strode directly around Dumbledore toward the hospital wing's exit.
This represented fundamental value differences.
He possessed zero patience for protracted conversations—comprehending the other's meaning sufficed.
Like tonight's events.
Dumbledore obviously understood this principle, so he didn't obstruct Tiger's departure. Only as Tiger approached the threshold did he slowly offer reminder:
"Shelby wouldn't harm children."
"Isn't that accurate?"
He'd never expected Tiger's compliance—he merely hoped this volatile young man might demonstrate restraint.
Manipulating hearts through terror would inevitably trigger backlash. Precedent existed within this very castle, and he refused to witness Lawrence's child suffer such retribution...
"Correct, you're absolutely right—but Shelby will eliminate every enemy, and furthermore, this bastard's already sixth year—he's not a fucking child!"
Tiger viciously raised his middle finger, vanishing rapidly beyond the hospital wing amid awkward laughter from two small Hufflepuffs.
Actually, he harbored no malice toward this elderly wizard, but maternal loyalty demanded respect.
Tiger remembered crystal-clearly Mother Polly's wariness and distance regarding Dumbledore.
Anyone capable of evoking such expressions from gang members was law enforcement—the variety of great, terrifying officers.
For society's proper functioning, they'd sacrifice anyone, including themselves...
This precisely represented Shelby's most despised archetype.
Dumbledore shook his head helplessly.
Observing the unconscious Corman Avery, he murmured meaningfully:
"This constitutes my final assistance."
"Old Avery. "
Night lay thick as velvet.
Throughout the castle, silence reigned absolute—even wall portraits snored softly.
Confronting Tiger's imposing presence, ghosts attempting to frighten night-wandering students fled with terrified shrieks.
"BANG!" The dormitory door slammed violently against its frame with thunderous impact.
"Motherfucker!"
"Someday I'll punch his nose sideways and embed his dentures in his arse!"
Tiger cursed venomously while returning to his dormitory, ripping off his constraining shirt and hurling it carelessly onto a chair.
Regarding his lost midnight delicacy, Venom shared equal heartbreak, cursing even more profanely than Tiger within his consciousness.
Meanwhile, the adjacent prefect dormitory maintained unusual tranquility. Boys who'd consumed Dreamless Sleep Potion slumbered exceptionally peacefully.
Female prefect Gemma Farley sat poised at her desk, gazing upon Black Lake scenery while sipping steaming coffee, her cool gaze profound and contemplative.
Until heavy door-slamming suddenly erupted.
"Boasted, you've finally returned."
The girl's rosy lips curved in an alluring arc as she slowly lowered her coffee cup, casually waving to eliminate all presence traces through cleaning charms.
Then she rose gracefully, smoothing her skirt as sharp, proud determination quietly emerged within her eyes.
"Such a pity, Boasted..."
"Serving anyone as a dog remains servitude."
Her pale chin lifted slightly, neck arching like fresh snow as Gemma Farley stepped lightly toward the dormitory entrance.
"Oh, I nearly forgot about you."
After opening the door, Gemma Farley seemed to recall something, turning back to curtsy elegantly before the sleeping boys within the dormitory.
"Thank you for your gracious hospitality..."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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