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

It had to be said that for Hermione, Neville proved an exceptionally qualified listener.

She hadn't experienced such a satisfying sense of unburdening in ages.

Most of the time, people found opportunities to escape midway through what seemed like interminable conversations.

Her parents included.

Seeing Hermione finally cease her chatter, Neville timidly ventured:

"Granger..."

"Have you seen a toad?"

"He's called Trevor... I can't find him anywhere." The pudgy boy's eyes gradually reddened.

"Trevor?"

Perhaps because the scene of Tiger jamming Trevor's shotgun barrel into the headmaster's mouth before shattering his teeth with a vicious uppercut had been too explosive—

Upon hearing the toad's name, Hermione instinctively shuddered, then realized she still hadn't spotted Tiger.

He couldn't have failed finding the entrance, could he?

The thought that Tiger might still be wandering King's Cross Station at this very moment sent waves of regret and guilt crashing over Hermione's heart.

I should've told him!

I'm such an idiot!

"I've searched everywhere—Trevor's not in the compartment."

Chubby Neville stuck his bottom up, thrusting his head beneath the seats, his muffled voice barely audible.

"Neville, Trevor might've run outside. I'll help you search." Hermione suddenly sprang to her feet.

"Really?!"

Neville struggled upright, regarding Hermione with surprise and helpless gratitude.

This marked the first time in his life a peer had shown kindness to clumsy him.

"Really..." Hermione's face flushed slightly as she turned away, conscience pricking.

"Stop waffling—let's go!"

With that declaration, she departed the compartment.

Neville hurried after her, joy at gaining a new friend quietly blooming in his heart...

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad..."

"No. Please leave."

"Right then..."

"Neville lost a toad called Trevor. Have you seen him?"

"No."

"Have you spotted a toad?"

"Neville lost him."

Reaching the final compartment in the first-year carriage, Hermione hastily surveyed its occupants.

Though Ron, preparing to demonstrate magic for Harry Potter, sparked her curiosity about wizarding families, more pressing matters demanded attention.

"No..."

"Haven't seen one."

Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered glances, shaking their heads.

Hermione sighed with mounting dejection, then continued searching with Neville.

Bloody hell...

He couldn't have actually missed it, could he?

I'm such a fool!

I've ruined Tiger's magical future!

As compartment after compartment flashed past, dejection and regret deepened across Hermione's features.

Even when impatient voices drove them away, she remained undeterred. She simply wanted to locate Tiger quickly.

"Hermione, if we can't find him, perhaps we should give up."

"I reckon Trevor might appear on his own."

After enduring several rejections aimed at both him and Hermione, Neville felt retreat stirring within his heart.

Being refused wasn't pleasant—he didn't want his new friend suffering on his account.

"No!"

"I absolutely must find him!"

Hermione's eyes blazed with determination.

She genuinely believed that if Tiger lost his Hogwarts opportunity because of this, she'd never forgive herself!

"Him?"

Neville blinked in confusion.

Pushing open the final carriage door.

Green decorative styling utterly different from other carriages met Hermione and Neville's gaze.

"Hermione, we should return." Fear crept across Neville's face.

"This is the Slytherin carriage..."

But Hermione seemed deaf to his words. Spotting Tiger's upright figure, her perpetually tense expression finally relaxed—as if receiving divine salvation.

"Thank God..."

"Finally found you..."

Just as she prepared calling out to Tiger, she witnessed him stride into a compartment wearing a sinister grin. The door slammed shut with thunderous finality.

That smile—as his classmate, Hermione knew it intimately.

"Oh no no no no!"

Ignoring Neville's alarmed protests, Hermione raced toward the compartment with ashen features.

Standing behind her, Neville gritted his teeth, suppressed his terror, and hurried after her.

It must be acknowledged that compartments belonging to pure-blood nobility far exceeded other houses' standards.

Soundproofing included.

Hermione stood outside the compartment door, instinctively reaching to push it open—then recoiling as if electrocuted.

Dull impact sounds. Splintering table boards. Abruptly severed roars. Shrill, agonized screams...

Hearing chaos faintly seeping through door cracks, color gradually drained from Neville's face as he swallowed hard.

"Oh... Merlin..." Hermione clutched her head in anguish. "I knew it..."

Were it anyone else, she'd immediately intervene. Only with Tiger...

This bloke recognized solely family and enemies.

No men or women. No adults or children.

If she interrupted now, the sole possibility would be catching a fist...

Hermione silently sighed, crossed herself for the compartment's occupants, and began softly praying.

Dear God...

Please let him not be wearing brass knuckles.

Minutes ticked past as sounds from the door crack gradually quieted.

Sensing something ominous, Neville's trembling fingers clutched Hermione's sleeve.

"Hermione, we should scarper quickly."

"I've got a dreadful feeling."

"Don't fret, Neville. Your feeling's spot-on—but fortunately, the dreadful bit's finished."

Hermione opened the compartment door with grim expression.

Complete chaos greeted them.

Blood-stained table corners lay snapped in two. Sofa seats dripped with crimson and vomit.

Three Slytherin upperclassmen had been thoroughly pummeled into bloody pulps, carelessly discarded in the corner.

Shattered teeth scattered everywhere. Twisted arms bore torn flesh. Deformed faces resembled car crash victims.

"Sweet Merlin, someone help me..."

Hermione moaned weakly.

She could already envision Tiger's expulsion from Hogwarts before term even began.

Help... Gran...

Neville held his breath, face deathly pale. He wanted dragging Hermione away in flight, but couldn't budge his legs.

In his perception, Slytherin housed nothing but villains—and pure-blood nobles within Slytherin represented villains among villains.

Tiger, with those savage eyes, had transcended humanity entirely. Neville felt death approaching.

Tiger wiped his brass knuckles clean with tablecloth, then glanced indifferently at Hermione standing in the doorway.

"This is the magical world."

"You should call Merlin to handle this."

(?_?)

"This isn't the bloody time for jokes!"

Hermione, emotions somewhat collapsed, wanted screaming but suppressed the instinct.

She pressed both hands over her mouth, yanked Neville into the compartment, and swiftly sealed the door.

"What d'you plan doing!"

"This is malicious assault—you'll be expelled..."

Halfway through her words, Hermione seemed recognizing her own madness and slapped her forehead repeatedly.

"No no no..."

"You'll be arrested, Tiger!"

She glanced anxiously toward the carriage window, then gritted her teeth and whispered beneath Tiger's surprised, astonished gaze:

"Tiger, chuck them out the window!"

"I know cleaning charms and mending spells. Then we'll pretend nothing happened..."

The little girl's voice trembled violently.

Dark brown eyes flickered with anguished light—the moral transgression of enabling violence against her own kind.

Despite her heart overflowing with terror and pain, she still mustered courage to advise Tiger.

Tiger studied Hermione steadily. Her pallid little face appeared quite pitiful, misty eyes brimming with confusion about the future. He couldn't suppress amusement.

"Your idea's absolutely rubbish."

"Like some clichéd detective film."

"You!"

Witnessing Tiger mock her thus, Hermione felt utterly heartbroken as tears gradually overflowed her constantly trembling eyes.

"Bloody hell... Merlin..."

Tiger grimaced with considerable discomfort.

Whether in past or present life, he'd never been a father. Consoling weeping little girls remained a complete mystery to him...

The story isn't over...

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