This ti, not only Harry and Ron, but even Madam Pince, who'd been eavesdropping nearby, was absolutely terrified.
As far as she knew, even Voldemort hadn't personally killed so many people with his own hands.
Seeing Madam Pince's panicked, fleeing figure, Hermione set down her quill and heaved a heavy sigh.
Bloody Shelbys...
Look what you've done now.
"Dumbledore..."
"Look what you've done."
Dumbledore muttered to himself and sighed heavily, his wrinkled face etched with helplessness and self-reproach.
"I'm sorry, Irma. This is all I can do."
The Elder Wand was returned to its drawer.
Madam Pince, who monts before had been shrieking in terror, had now regained her composure, her vulture-like, gaunt features showing traces of bewildernt.
She quietly departed the headmaster's office, as though she'd rely experienced a nightmare that would be forgotten upon waking.
Accompanied by the grinding sound of shifting stone gargoyles, the headmaster's office fell silent once more.
"..."
Dumbledore rubbed his knuckles, gazing at the Philosopher's Stone on his desk, his eyes deep and conflicted.
He was contemplating whether this Philosopher's Stone, entrusted to him by an old friend, should be given to its rightful owner.
[Ah, Nicolas...]
[You've presented with quite the dilemma.]
On the wall behind him, portraits of forr Hogwarts headmasters exchanged aningful glances.
"This isn't your fault, Albus."
Dilys Derwent, the only female headmistress in Hogwarts history, offered gentle consolation.
Honestly, Madam Pince's hysterical state made it appear more as though she herself had murdered three hundred people, rather than rely having overheard a student's confession.
Dumbledore's attempts at persuasion had proved futile. In her position, she would have cast the mory Charm as well.
If necessary, a concentrated Draught of Living Death wouldn't have been unreasonable either.
Phineas Nigellus Black, the most unpopular headmaster in Hogwarts history, had montarily ceased his constant prattling about pure-blood superiority and glory.
His stern, harsh features took on an indescribable expression as he spoke slowly, his voice heavy with concern.
"Albus, I understand your love and worry for Hogwarts."
"But regardless..."
"You shouldn't be recruiting from Azkaban. Slytherin is troubleso enough as it stands."
Dumbledore glanced at him silently. "Phineas, I haven't yet reached such depths of senility."
"Perhaps I should relocate you to the Muggle world—let you observe how Muggles have progressed?"
"Oh... that won't be necessary..."
Phineas Nigellus Black sheepishly closed his mouth and resud his static portrait pose.
Another troubled sigh echoed through the office.
Ti crept by, minute by minute.
Beyond the headmaster's office windows, darkness and silence reigned.
Until several beams of brilliant moonlight stread through the glass, cascading like silver threads across the desk.
The dull grinding of moving stone suddenly resud.
Tiger pushed through the door, only to discover the headmaster's office completely empty, shrouded in silence.
"Headmaster?"
Tiger frowned slightly. The wall portraits turned in unison, casting peculiar looks in his direction.
"I wasn't addressing you lot."
He waved dismissively, choosing to ignore the portraits entirely.
Phineas Nigellus Black's beard bristled with indignation, but rembering Dumbledore's earlier instructions, he rely snorted coldly and returned to stillness, allowing Tiger to wander the headmaster's office alone.
"Bloody hell, that's a gorgeous bird."
Spotting the phoenix Fawkes resting on its perch, Tiger approached with undisguised admiration.
However, seemingly sensing an inexplicable threat, Fawkes startled awake with a jolt. Dazzling flas erupted as its deep crimson feathers transford entirely into fire.
The searing heat rushing toward him forced Tiger to retreat several steps, his previously lazy gaze instantly blazing with ferocity.
Venom's tentacles imdiately began spreading.
Fawkes, perched on its stand, grew increasingly agitated, the flas adorning its body burning ever more brilliantly.
The portrait of Armando Dippet, Hogwarts' previous headmaster, suddenly sparked to life.
The elderly figure seated within the fra spoke with quiet authority that brooked no argunt.
"First-year, don't approach Fawkes. Phoenixes can easily detect any malicious intent."
Hearing this loaded warning, Tiger froze montarily, then understanding flickered across his fierce eyes.
As a symbiote, parasitizing or devouring any creature that could aid its evolution was Venom's instinct—its very purpose.
What Fawkes confronted wasn't re malice—it was a predator, a mortal enemy locked in an eternal dance of survival.
This instinctual threat was more primitive, more intense than simple hostility.
Tiger offered no explanation, instead choosing to withdraw. Venom remained in a weakened state, and fire was its greatest vulnerability. Should conflict erupt, they'd stand virtually no chance of victory.
"They" regarded Fawkes with equal wariness.
[Such a sha...]
[If I could devour its head...] Venom's ravenous voice carried hints of regret.
[The opportunity will co...]
Tiger's cold, bone-chilling smile reached his eyes. This ti, he made no attempt to mask his malevolent intent.
Predation was equally ingrained in Shelby nature.
Fawkes shook its head and cried out in distress. The wall portraits displayed expressions of astonishnt.
Phoenixes were XXXX-level magical creatures. Setting aside their ability to vanish at will, their offensive capabilities far exceeded what ordinary wizards could match.
Yet now it was actually urging Dumbledore to return swiftly? Was it... afraid?!
Absolutely incredible!
Tiger paid no heed to Fawkes' reaction.
His attention had been captured by the Philosopher's Stone casually resting on the headmaster's desk.
For reasons he couldn't fathom, he could distinctly sense the pulsing and heat radiating from the Philosopher's Stone.
A warm, powerful force spread slowly in all directions with each pulse...
This energy felt gentle yet brimming with vitality, as though it could make him forget all exhaustion and troubles.
Tiger reached out as if bewitched.
Dumbledore, concealed in the shadows, instinctively moved to intervene but then halted.
The confusion in Tiger's eyes vanished entirely. As he withdrew his hand, his pupils contracted sharply.
"Venom! Symbiosis!"
With a fierce battle cry, Venom's massive, terrifying form—like shadow incarnate—instantly enveloped Tiger's entire body, wrapping him in its protective embrace.
Hogwarts' portraits witnessed this transformation with slack-jawed amazent, as though ti itself had crystallized.
Venom opened its nightmarish maw, bristling with razor-sharp fangs, and roared with primal fury at an unseen enemy.
"Co out! Food!"
The thunderous, earth-shaking bellow reverberated through every corner of the headmaster's office. Powerful sound waves sent papers, parchnts, and various items scattered across the desk flying in all directions.
Fawkes flapped its wings in panic and unease before vanishing from its perch entirely, leaving only drifting sparks slowly descending through the air...
"rlin's saggy left—!"
"What manner of monster is that?!" Dilys Derwent couldn't suppress her exclamation.
During her lifeti, she'd served not only as Hogwarts' headmistress but also as St. Mungo's most accomplished healer.
Dark curses, exotic pathogens, spell injuries, demonic possessions—all manner of cases were etched deeply into her mory, yet she'd never encountered such a bizarre and frenzied creature as Venom...
Symbiotes possessed comprehensive night vision capabilities, with visual functions distributed throughout their entire being, allowing perfect observation of every corner within their combat environnt.
Staring at the Philosopher's Stone on the desk, Tiger and Venom's nerves stretched to their absolute breaking point.
This seemingly tranquil room felt saturated with danger to them...
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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