Though Hogwarts' recent chaos hadn't happened before the professors' eyes, they all knew about it.
Even before the competition game began, Professor Flitwick had told Dumbledore...
"A very meaningful educational approach. I must say, I underestimated that little rascal's wisdom."
Dumbledore didn't object.
He even expressed regret that Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw should have joined too.
This kind of practical competition was extremely beneficial for young wizards—equivalent to another Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
The wizarding world wasn't peaceful. This could give them experience protecting themselves...
Night fell. Heavy rain subsiding.
Dumbledore gazed out the window, lost in thought. A faint curve hidden in his thick white beard.
"BANG!!!"
A violent explosion echoed into the headmaster's office. Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched.
"Dumbledore! I think we should stop this game. The spells they're using are getting more dangerous."
No one knew better than Professor McGonagall how gifted young wizards this age were at finding creative ways to die.
"What do you think, Severus?"
Professor McGonagall looked at Snape beside her, severity in her expression.
Toward this professor who had once taught him, Snape found it hard to ignore. His tone was gloomy:
"Professor McGonagall, I think we shouldn't obstruct the children's freedom to rush toward death. That goes against Hogwarts' educational philosophy."
The seemingly contradictory words were full of annoyance at this competition, and mockery toward Dumbledore.
As of tonight, three waves of stupid lions had tried sneaking into his dungeon to steal Draught of Living Death. He'd had to cast counter-curses and protective spells on his office.
"Dumbledore... Albus!"
Hearing Professor McGonagall's annoyed voice, Dumbledore finally turned around as if just awakening. His eyes behind his glasses still showed confusion.
Seeing that Dumbledore had completely ignored her words, Professor McGonagall's face darkened.
"Minerva..." Dumbledore asked thoughtfully. "I suddenly feel that Mr. Shelby has great potential to become Hogwarts headmaster. What do you think?"
"What?!"
Professor McGonagall stared in disbelief. Her slightly aged face overflowed with absurdity.
She even thought she might have misheard.
But before she could speak, Professor Snape's sarcastic voice rang out first.
"Headmaster. I can accept the outside world calling Slytherin a cradle of Dark wizards, but I think no one could accept Hogwarts becoming Azkaban's job training school."
"You'd better not be serious."
With that, Professor Snape turned and walked out. He might not truly understand Dumbledore, but he knew his style well.
Once this old bee started playing dumb, it meant no room for discussion.
He wouldn't waste more time.
Professor McGonagall knew this too.
Looking at Dumbledore's familiar gentle smile, all her anger turned to helplessness.
"I don't deny Mr. Shelby's talents. But he's too radical... No! To be precise, he's somewhat mad. This unrestrained madness is influencing Slytherin."
"BANG!!!"
Another explosion sounded outside.
Professor McGonagall paused, suppressing the veins bulging at her temples, gritting her teeth:
"Many Slytherin students have already started asking Filius about new sword-wand combat techniques."
"Dumbledore! Hogwarts is a school, not a wizard assassin training base. You should talk to him!"
Before she finished, Professor McGonagall strode out, carrying lioness-like fury toward the explosion's source.
"..."
Looking at the tightly closed door, Dumbledore shook his head and sighed quietly.
Some things even he couldn't accomplish.
Under the sweep of the times, the wizarding world was accepting change at an imperceptible pace.
But wizards' thinking remained stagnant.
Tiger might be somewhat mad. But he wasn't a madman.
Those pure-blood noble classes who should be most stubborn and conservative were accepting his ideas.
Dumbledore didn't care about good and evil.
He only hoped wizards' thinking could keep up with the times and successfully integrate.
Wizards could take planes, watch TV, do business and politics in the Muggle world, even become gangster villains.
Wizards and Muggles were never enemies.
Wizards could normally integrate into the Muggle world. This was Tiger's essential difference from those two.
They were too arrogant. Too arrogant to see ordinary wizards' faces clearly.
The air was filled with the fresh fragrance of earth and grass—the unique scent after rain. The breeze from the Black Lake seemed able to blow away all fatigue.
Slytherin's morning training group unconsciously slowed down, enjoying the refreshing comfort.
Only the Quidditch team members, along with Neville, continued their exercises methodically.
The girls whispered together.
Tiger rarely failed to urge them on.
Even seeing the slacking Crabbe and Goyle, he only kicked them back into formation.
The deafening gunshots seemed to have misfired.
"Riley, Shelby today... seems to be in a particularly good mood?"
Lisa looked at Tiger strangely. The little snakes around her seemed to notice too.
"He's been like this since returning last night. Theodore and Timaeus were right beside him. Did something good happen? Did he fall in love?"
The surrounding chatter rose and fell, but Riley Shafiq had no time to deal with Lisa now.
Tiger's pleased expression was like a tiger slowly pacing through the forest, lazily swishing its tail, making people want to go up and pet it.
Gemma Farley's steps gradually began moving uncontrollably toward Tiger's direction.
Riley Shafiq was desperately dragging her back.
Afraid that if she wasn't careful, her friend would stick herself to Shelby. The scene was unimaginable.
Only after morning training ended did she hurriedly drag the hot-breathed Gemma Farley back to their dormitory...
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