"Filthy vermin!"
"He's destroyed Slytherin!"
"Vile, despicable troll—you should expel him! Dumbledore! Look what he's done!"
Deep into the night, the portraits adorning the headmaster's office erupted in particularly raucous discord.
Especially the Slytherin portraits—they gesticulated with frantic indignation, as though desperate to leap from their gilded fras and seize Dumbledore by the throat in righteous fury.
In stark contrast, Dumbledore's smile deepened with profound amusent.
Even the typically militant Phineas Nigellus Black had lapsed into ominous silence—though monts earlier, he'd been cursing with the most colorful and vicious vocabulary...
Just then, Professor Snape burst through the entrance with thunderous expression, striding purposefully to the mahogany desk before demanding in arctic tones:
"What exactly are you attempting to accomplish, Dumbledore? Are you simply permitting Shelby to run amok?"
"Observe tonight's carnage—screams echoing throughout the castle. Tell , great and benevolent Lord of Light Magic, have you developed a taste for suffering?"
"Perhaps your pitiful Potions professor should prostrate himself and kiss your feet while begging you to visit Azkaban?"
Heaven knew, he was perpetually the one dispensing acidic venom upon others—yet tonight, two elderly witches in the hospital wing had verbally eviscerated him until he could barely maintain consciousness.
He was Slytherin's Head of House!
A Potions Master of international renown!
Not so house-elf tasked with cleaning up sses!
Confronted by Professor Snape's words dripping with sarcasm and molten rage, Dumbledore displayed zero offense, instead offering gentle reassurance:
"Peace, Severus. You must understand—children invariably mature through trials and tribulations."
"Perhaps so lemon tea would help?"
"Trials and tribulations?!" Professor Snape nearly erupted in bitter laughter. "What absolute drivel are you spouting?"
For the first ti in his existence, he witnessed the perfect embodint of maddening unreasonableness—emanating from an ancient wizard, no less.
"I don't care what grand sche you're orchestrating, Dumbledore. Remove this savage—he doesn't belong in Slytherin."
Snape despised chaos above all else, and Tiger represented pure chaos incarnate infiltrating his domain.
Damn the trials and tribulations.
If these pure-blood imbeciles possessed courage to wield Dark Magic, they'd already be scattered across the dungeons in unrecognizable fragnts.
"Shelby's brain consists of muscle tissue wrapped in slug sli—he lacks sufficient wisdom and capability to fulfill your grandiose aspirations!"
Fury amplified gradually, constricting Professor Snape's throat with hissing intensity, like a genuine serpent king spraying lethal toxins.
Dumbledore shook his head with quiet certainty, his eyes behind half-moon spectacles radiating unwavering resolve:
"Severus, don't underestimate Tiger. He comprehends exactly what he's doing..."
Observing Professor Snape's increasingly livid complexion, he released a profound sigh—though this exhalation carried inexplicable relief.
"Severus."
"When facts favor Slytherin, they emphasize facts. When regulations favor Slytherin, they emphasize regulations."
"You consider this cleverness. You believe these represent necessary tactics within ordered society..."
Dumbledore's voice paused aningfully as he sighed again, helplessness blooming within his ancient gaze.
Professor Snape's eyes narrowed with disbelief—because this seed more like weakness than wisdom.
Yet in his experience, this honey-brained old bee was never weak, much less likely to display vulnerability before others.
Unless...
This damned fossil is scheming again!
At this realization, Professor Snape retreated half a step with calculated wariness, his already hollow eyes becoming utterly vacant.
Dumbledore glanced sideways at this fool corrupted by Slytherin ideology, continuing his contemplative explanation:
"Such thinking appears antiquated even to —a moldy confection past his pri."
"You see, when regulations and facts oppose Tiger, he overturns the negotiating table entirely, seizes throats, and compels obedience. They possess no alternative but compliance."
"You must understand—regardless of governntal structure, all authority originates from violence..."
"Indeed?" Professor Snape's tone carried glacial disdain. "Apparently our Lord of Light Magic has grown too comfortable and seeks to cultivate another Dark Lord?"
"Severus..."
Dumbledore shook his head with paternal exasperation.
"The world's fundantal chanics remain unchanged, but the era has evolved. Pure-blood thodologies no longer function effectively."
"The ti has arrived to pursue different paths."
"These children's ntalities cannot remain trapped in bygone centuries—such stagnation will destroy them."
In Dumbledore's perception, Slytherin differed fundantally from the other three Houses.
Their status, their accumulated wealth—they served as the weathervane for Britain's entire magical community.
They occupied trendous heights, which made their position equally precarious.
"Violence or barbarism—irrelevant."
"Provided it forces them to abandon their unstable floating thrones prematurely, it represents positive progress."
"Let them plant feet firmly upon solid ground and observe—truly see this world, comprehend their actual future..."
Within this labyrinthine world, goodness existed alongside evil.
Dumbledore felt no concern regarding what manner of individuals Slytherin students might beco.
His vision encompassed broader horizons, extended further into tomorrow.
As ti's inexorable current surged forward, the world's magnificence expanded before his eyes—ordinary human intelligence ascending continuously toward unprecedented heights.
The wizarding and Muggle realms—these two forrly parallel, non-intersecting trajectories now approached each other through subtle yet determined steps.
But beneath this seemingly harmonious convergence lurked undeniable contradictions and explosive conflicts.
How should they be resolved?
Even he possessed no answers.
He understood only that figures like Grindelwald and Voldemort wouldn't alter Muggle civilization's developntal trajectory—they would inflict catastrophic devastation upon the magical world, creating endless suffering.
He knew only that before contradictions erupted into open warfare, Slytherin students required survival wisdom and inner fortitude.
The courage and freedom to shine with magical brilliance amid tempestuous storms.
Not beco hollow puppets adorning pure-blood aristocratic thrones, subsequently nailed by history's rciless hamr to pillars of sha that Muggles would despise—lancholy footnotes in civilization's inexorable transformation...
Professor Snape maintained silence montarily, then pivoted and strode directly from the headmaster's office.
"I hope you won't regret this decision."
The stone gargoyle's grinding rotation rendered these words sowhat indistinct.
"I've transcended the age of regret."
Dumbledore murmured with serene amusent. Whether Tiger might evolve into a new Dark Lord was irrelevant—he maintained transcendent indifference toward such possibilities.
What he detested wasn't the power and malevolence behind that title, but the reckless, unrestrained madness and pathological obsessions.
The jungle law Tiger embraced was undeniably brutal, yet it represented the inevitable principle governing all growth, elimination, and renewal.
Moreover, this thoroughly corrupted young man had declared multiple tis that he was fundantally good...
Dumbledore felt inexplicably anticipatory regarding this claim.
"Forgive my perverse sense of humor, Severus. I've grown ancient enough to lose my teeth—occasionally I wonder what those pure-blood nobles will consu when they've lost theirs..."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
🤔 Want to know what happens next to the characters?
🤫 Eager to explore the untold secrets of this world?
✍️ Ready to read more of my wildest stories?
✨patreon/DarkGolds
User Comments
0 comments from readers