Lunchtime.
McGonagall stared at the beetle-shaped skewers on her plate. Laughed despite herself.
Still ate them, though.
"Little brat who never takes a loss..."
The professors had been eyeing the Slytherin table's Chinese food for ages. Especially Dumbledore with his sweet tooth.
Problem was, only one house-elf knew how to make these dishes. And that elf refused to serve anyone but Tiger...
Slytherin common room.
Tiger skipped his usual nap. Found Timaeus instead.
"Timaeus."
"Need one of your silencing bugs for an experiment. What do you want?"
Direct as always.
No games.
"No, Father."
"Nothing."
"This is a blessing..."
Devotion flashed in Timaeus's eyes. He removed his golden bracelet without hesitation.
Mysterious whispers filled the air.
The bracelet came alive. Shell split. Wings spread. The scarab revealed itself, faint light flickering.
"Just need one."
Tiger plucked a scarab. Tossed it behind him like candy.
The bug traced a smooth arc.
Instantly.
Venom's head appeared. Fangs snapped. Swallowed the scarab whole.
"Hmm... weird texture..."
Venom made a curious sound after the taste and magic hit.
"Oh, this..."
"Like chewing sticky sand."
"Cut it, Venom." Tiger shot it a look. "How's the effect?"
"Obviously nothing." Venom put two tentacles on its hips.
Tiger: "..."
He could never win against Venom's unreasonable confidence.
Just then.
The scarabs in Timaeus's hand flew outward. Golden points of light hovered in the air.
Instantly.
A silencing barrier expanded around them, sealing their conversation inside.
"Father, if I'm right."
Timaeus's voice echoed in the barrier, cautious and fervent.
"Mr. Venom absorbs traits by eating creatures. Evolves from it. You want it to eliminate its sound weakness?"
Tiger felt nothing.
Since last year ended, he'd known his weaknesses weren't secret anymore. If Voldemort figured it out, Dumbledore definitely knew.
"Suggestions?"
Tiger looked at Timaeus.
"Scarabs don't have silencing abilities. They're conduits for magic. Like wands. Mr. Venom eating wands wouldn't help."
Timaeus's voice grew strange. Trembling. Breathing heavier.
"So..." (?_?)
"You..." (?y?)
Tiger's eyebrow went up.
Veins bulged on Timaeus's forehead. His mouth curved into a twisted smile—like some hellish flower blooming.
His dark face looked fierce under the lake's light.
His eyes overflowed with fanatical devotion.
"Taste me!"
"Mr. Venom!"
"For my lord!"
"..." (ΩДΩ)
Venom was terrified.
Before Tiger could speak, it shot back into his body. Refused to look at this maniac.
In its mind, Timaeus right now was like a deformed Cthulhu chocolate cake.
Forget eating it.
Just looking made the symbiote sick.
"Calm down, Timaeus."
"You're misunderstanding." Tiger rubbed his forehead, exasperated.
Honestly, if he were Venom, he wouldn't want to eat Timaeus looking like that either.
Too damn scary.
"Venom isn't magical."
"The abilities it absorbs come from gene sequences. Nothing to do with magic."
Tiger extended his arm. Dark golden dragon scales appeared, metallic luster gleaming. His amber eyes became orange-yellow dragon pupils.
"Like this."
"But I can't breathe fire..."
He paused. Patted his head.
"Dragon breath, I mean. Under normal conditions, I can't breathe dragon breath."
"If Venom ate you, besides filling its stomach, it'd maybe speak some Egyptian."
"Your magic? It can't cast spells. Your magical power would just be fuel."
"Like food."
"I see..."
Timaeus calmed down. His fervent gaze showed regret.
For Egyptian priests, death wasn't an end—it was the first step to becoming a divine servant.
"Alright, enough."
"I'll think of something else..."
Under Venom's urging, Tiger patted Timaeus's shoulder and left the common room.
He'd thought Gemma Farley was crazy enough. Turns out there was another one hiding.
Timaeus remained on the sofa, eyes calm. Recalling something.
After a moment, he looked enlightened. Pulled out parchment. Started writing a letter...
Afternoon.
Tiger walked drowsily into Defense Against the Dark Arts. The noise around him made him yawn repeatedly.
Hermione saw his condition. Quickly pulled him to the back row.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you sick?"
Her eyes were full of concern.
"No, just didn't nap."
"Really sleepy."
Tiger yawned deeply. Tears formed at his eyes.
Hermione sighed in relief. She'd known about his napping habit since Muggle school.
Lockhart's Defense textbooks numbered seven volumes.
Hermione stacked fourteen books on Tiger's desk. The layered pile perfectly hid his drowsy eyes.
"Ha, that's so you!"
Tiger ruffled her messy hair. Then settled at his desk under her indignant gaze...
After class began, Lockhart didn't notice Tiger sleeping in back. Too busy with self-promotion. Told jokes gracefully.
Few played along.
Slytherins had stopped appreciating this flashy type. Gryffindors just disliked his greasy manner.
Especially when some girls still cheered.
Hermione frowned. The professor seemed completely different from the textbooks.
"Right then."
"Little quiz now."
"Don't worry. Just checking your prep. Some things need mastering in advance."
Lockhart picked up test papers. Flashed his brilliant teeth at the students. Drew dreamy sighs from some Gryffindor girls.
Hermione's frown deepened.
For some reason, she wanted to throw all the textbooks at Lockhart's face.
"Thirty minutes to answer."
As papers were distributed, Hermione suppressed the urge. Picked up her quill. Started writing in Tiger's handwriting.
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