HP: What, You've Never Seen a Symbiote at Hogwarts?

"Are you sure you don't need an owl?"

"No, I hate the smell of bird shit."

Passing the magical creatures shop, Tiger's gaze lingered momentarily—perhaps even he didn't notice.

Tommy looked over thoughtfully.

A palm-sized black cat with blue eyes was hissing dangerously at its keeper.

The shopkeeper seemed wary of something, hastily filling the cat food with a wooden spoon before quickly departing...

Recalling the stray cats that gathered around The Shelby pub, Tommy's lips curved in an enigmatic smile.

His brother was always so kind-hearted.

"Oh, what's this?"

"Flying broomsticks?"

"So the cartoons were actually real?"

"Tiger, will you have to ride one of these too, like the witches in animations?"

Curiosity flickered in his misty grey eyes.

"Perhaps. There seems to be a course for it, but they look like they'd be murder on your arse. I doubt I'll fancy it."

"Also..."

"Don't look at me like that, Tommy, or I'll show you exactly how well that broomstick would suit you."

"Ha! Alright, alright..."

Perhaps it was a matter of orientation, but Tommy always showed such keen interest in objects placed beneath one's bottom...

Curious about the magical world, the brothers didn't rush to purchase school supplies but wandered several more circuits.

Just as they spotted the sign for Knockturn Alley and prepared to explore, a kind witch nearby warned them about the dangers within.

Only then did they halt.

Gazing at the shadowy figures barely visible in the winding alley entrance, both Tommy and Tiger displayed ravenous expressions.

"The magical world's underground black market?" Tiger couldn't help licking his lips. "Tommy..."

"I know..."

Since The Shelby Family's development had reached a bottleneck, why not set their sights on the magical world?

The brothers reached this conclusion with perfect synchronicity.

"Now isn't the time, Tiger."

"The Shelbys need more intelligence and a sufficiently robust protective umbrella, you understand..."

Tommy was certainly tempted.

But his mind remained exceptionally clear, and he grasped precisely what Knockturn Alley represented—this was an essential quality for any family leader.

"Naturally."

Tiger nodded slightly, uncontainable greed flickering in the depths of his amber eyes.

Like a feline predator lurking in dark forests, fixated on prey about to enter striking range.

He'd always been fascinated by black-on-black operations.

However, the Shelbys never fought unprepared wars, and the magical world remained largely foreign to both brothers.

After one final glance into Knockturn Alley's depths, Tommy led the reluctant Tiger away...

"You still need several sets of robes..."

"Oh, and a cauldron—bloody hell, we passed that shop earlier and I completely forgot."

"Hmm... time's running short."

"I'll handle the cauldron, you sort the clothing, then we'll rendezvous here."

Outside Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Tommy hurried off. Tiger watched his brother's retreating figure with puzzlement, sensing the bastard was concealing something.

"That git..."

"He's not actually buying a broomstick, is he?"

"Speaking of which, who'd use it—him or Monte?"

An inexplicably filthy image flashed through his mind.

Tiger couldn't suppress a shudder, then entered Madam Malkin's with a disgusted expression.

The instant he opened the door, a mass of thick brown hair crashed into Tiger's chest.

Accompanied by a pained cry, Hermione Granger sat on the ground clutching her nose and front teeth.

"Oh dear, are you hurt?" Dr. Granger rushed to help his daughter up.

"I'm fine... God, my teeth are killing me. Did I hit a wall?"

Hermione Granger slowly stood, gasping sharply, her vision blurred with tears.

Observing the two gaps that had appeared in his metal buttons, Tiger's mouth twitched. Without those buttons, he'd probably be missing flesh.

"Bloody hell, Granger..."

"Your front teeth are considerably harder than walls."

Hearing the somewhat familiar voice, Hermione Granger snapped her head up, her young face still bearing traces of irritation.

"Shelby!?"

After clearly seeing Tiger's fierce eyes, Hermione Granger instinctively stepped back.

But immediately she pressed closer, chattering like an agitated sparrow:

"Shelby, did you receive your Hogwarts letter too?!"

"Oh God, this is wonderful!"

Tiger suddenly noticed that Hermione Granger's typically proud brown eyes were actually seeping misty moisture, like a homeless otter.

Though Tiger's bone-crushing display had cast quite a shadow over Hermione Granger, at this moment she resembled a traveler wandering alone in wilderness—filled with anxiety and uncertainty about the magical world and her future.

Tiger's appearance undoubtedly provided this lonely, bewildered girl with a trustworthy traveling companion, even if that companion was the Shelby feared by all teachers and students.

Hermione Granger couldn't help grasping Tiger's arm.

"God, I still feel like I'm dreaming. If I hadn't come to Diagon Alley..."

"Are you from a wizarding family?"

"Oh, you probably aren't."

"You're from a gang."

"I feel like I'll definitely fall behind academically—I know nothing about this place!"

"Did you get your gun?"

"They say the wand chooses the wizard."

"God, I don't even know if I can own a gun. If I'm not chosen by a gun, will I be expelled..."

What bloody nonsense.

Tiger felt his brain exploding.

"Granger, if you can't control yourself and shut up, I'll help you find silence."

Speaking thus, a black three-edged blade appeared in Tiger's grip, its razor tip subtly aimed toward Hermione Granger's mouth.

Not just Sigma—Shelby men feared nothing.

Hermione Granger seemed to remember something, her face rapidly shifting from excited crimson to deathly pale.

She hastily retreated several steps.

As his classmate, she knew precisely how much damage Tiger could inflict with a ballpoint pen, let alone this wand resembling a military blade.

Military weapon encyclopedias clearly described such weapons—once they pierced chest, abdomen, or internal organs...

"Tiger, you can't do this!"

"Hogwarts doesn't permit killing."

"They'll expel you!"

"You... blah blah blah..."

Why did this creature grow a mouth?

Tiger suppressed his urge to snap Hermione Granger's front teeth, walked past her expressionlessly to Madam Malkin, and spoke rapidly:

"You know what I need."

"Quickly!"

"Please!"

To prevent Madam Malkin from moving too slowly, Tiger made the unprecedented gesture of saying "please" to an outsider.

"Of course, dear."

Madam Malkin smiled and waved her hand.

Two measuring tapes moved like living serpents, swiftly measuring and dancing around Tiger's form.

"I suggest choosing a larger size."

"At your age..."

Hermione Granger's prattling continued. Tiger regarded Madam Malkin with detached indifference.

"Doesn't matter. I have one requirement."

"Fast!"

Meanwhile, Dr. Granger certainly understood his daughter's emotions, but as a man, he also comprehended Tiger's feelings perfectly. He approached his nearly hysterical daughter:

"Darling, we haven't purchased textbooks and a wand yet. Time's running short. Perhaps you could arrange to meet at the station together?"

The Shelbys were bad—irredeemably so—but they weren't cruel to ordinary people living honest lives.

They never harmed the elderly or children.

As Surrey's most powerful gang, The Shelby Family had earned their reputation. In certain respects, the public trusted them more than local police.

Dr. Granger knew the Shelbys well, particularly eldest brother Arthur Shelby.

He still remembered that stormy night.

He'd returned to his dental clinic for a birthday present he'd forgotten for his daughter.

Then Arthur Shelby burst in, pressing a gun to his head.

Using inadequate surgical instruments, he'd performed his first operation—extracting three deformed bullets from Arthur Shelby's skull.

From that day, he'd known The Shelby Family weren't ordinary people. Besides dentistry, he'd acquired an additional specialty—exclusive Shelby medical services.

Consequently, Dr. Granger trusted the Shelbys implicitly in certain matters.

Hearing her father's suggestion, Hermione's chatter ceased abruptly. Tiger unconsciously twitched his ears...

Bloody itchy.

The story isn't over...

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