Dawn gently fell, draping the Black Lake in faint gold. Like nature's gentlest brushstroke painting the quiet water.
The Slytherins resting by the lake enjoyed the calm after training. Winter's cold had passed. Spring's warm sun felt incredible.
"Longbottom!"
"What are you doing!"
"Get up!"
"Stop panting like a damn dog!"
Quidditch training continued.
Captain Marcus's roar rang across the lake, making ripples on the water. His spit splattered Neville's head and face.
The little snakes were used to this. Didn't even look back. Only a few first-years craned their necks—after all, this was the snake den's only stupid lion.
"No... no... Flint... I wasn't resting... I was just..."
Chubby Neville's face went pale as he braced his knees. His chest heaved violently.
Unable to speak, he could only anxiously point at something in the distance. His eyes full of worry.
The Quidditch team looked back instinctively. Their tired eyes gradually widened.
Tiger, who hadn't shown up all morning, was now dragging someone by the leg. Like dragging a lifeless dead dog, he strode toward the Black Lake.
The person's face scraped the ground, leaving a shocking blood trail.
Tiger ignored it completely. His fierce, brutal eyes held no mercy.
"That's... Professor Lockhart!"
Pansy Parkinson jumped up first. Shock filled her eyes. The noble girl who loved drama knew Lockhart's exaggerated performance style all too well.
Not to mention that dazzling golden hair.
"Are they..." Daphne Greengrass frowned slightly, puzzled.
"Rehearsing some kind of show?"
Theodore's eyes narrowed as he observed, then shook his head expressionlessly. "No."
"How do you know?"
Lisa walked over, curious.
After all, Lockhart's classroom performances were so exaggerated, no one knew what this fraud might pull next.
"Don't need to know."
Theodore glanced at Lisa sideways. Like looking at an idiot. Then lay back on the grass.
"You..."
Before Lisa could speak, Tiger grabbed Lockhart's hair and hurled him straight into the Black Lake. Like swinging a torn sack. Violent splashes shot skyward.
"Oh! Merlin's gallows!"
"Good heavens!"
"Quick! Go!"
"Stop Father!"
"Damn it, what did that idiot fraud do now!"
The little snakes resting by the lake became chaos. Incoherent exclamations rose everywhere. Everyone chased toward Tiger, as if one second later, he'd board the express to Azkaban.
In Hogwarts' history, there'd never been a case of a student killing a professor.
However, when they met Tiger's wild, fierce gaze, they all stopped involuntarily. Frozen by invisible force ten meters away. Not daring to advance.
Only Gemma Farley walked toward Tiger with leisurely steps.
She had no intention of stopping him. Just curious why this beast had exploded again.
After all, the Defense position had a 100% casualty rate. Even if Lockhart died here, so what? This was Slytherin. This beast's territory.
As icy lake water invaded his lungs, the instantly awakened Lockhart felt pain everywhere. As if he'd fallen from Hogwarts' tower onto concrete. Shattered bone pain kept spreading.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his hair, brutally pulling him from the icy water. Tearing pain shot from his scalp.
Shrill screams echoed across the shore.
"No no! Let go... Ah!"
"Who... Shelby..."
When he saw who attacked him, Lockhart's already pale face lost all color. His whole body trembled violently.
Tiger lowered his eyes slightly. His tone flat: "I heard you had conditions?"
Lockhart instinctively wanted to shake his head, but as sharp pain came from his scalp, he seemed to remember something. His timid expression gradually calmed somewhat.
He gritted his teeth and nodded.
"Yes, I want..."
"Splash!"
Before Lockhart could finish, Tiger shoved his head into the Black Lake. Violent struggling splashes scattered everywhere. His shoes floated up.
Yet Tiger's eyes showed no emotion. He just watched Lockhart's struggles gradually weaken.
The little snakes' faces went white with fear.
"Shelby, I have something better."
"Want to try..."
"Auror interrogation special."
Gemma Farley pulled a potion from her pocket. Her eyes looking at Lockhart were full of amusement.
She knew clearly—if Tiger wanted to kill Lockhart, this guy wouldn't appear by the Black Lake.
So what was stopping this unrestrained beast from killing Lockhart?
She was curious.
Tiger ignored the prefect behind him. Pulled Lockhart out of the lake again.
Lockhart's face was iron-blue. His hands weakly slapped Tiger's arm, trying to break free.
But the tearing sensation on his scalp grew worse.
Difficult, painful coughing was like knife cuts, stabbing his lungs. Foul-smelling lake mud spilled from his nose and mouth.
"No... don't..."
"Cough cough cough..."
"Please... Shelby..."
"I'm going to... die..."
Tiger ignored Lockhart's painful pleas. Lifted him to his face again. His tone calm: "I heard you had conditions?"
"I... I..."
"I'm sincere..."
Lockhart stammered, trying to explain. But Tiger didn't want to waste words with this bug.
"Wrong answer."
With shrill, terrified screams, he pressed Lockhart hard into the lake again.
That old thing Dumbledore seemed very empathetic about this son of a bitch's emotional problems. But what did that have to do with Tiger? Mother Polly wasn't their bargaining chip.
For Mother Polly's sake, Tiger hadn't taken this son of a bitch's life. That was already generous.
But if this son of a bitch still insisted, Tiger didn't mind letting him die at Hogwarts.
Helplessness and terror crept into his heart.
Lockhart tried to break free, even if it meant tearing off his scalp. However, this time, Tiger's hand clamped on his head seemed to have no intention of letting go.
No no no, it's real!
Shelby really wants me dead!
When he sensed Tiger's terrifyingly calm tone, desperate regret flooded Lockhart's brain.
He didn't want to die!
He hadn't seen Polly yet!
No, he couldn't die!
Strong will to survive gave Lockhart's body an inexplicable burst of strength. With muffled pleading sounds, the struggling splashes grew more violent.
Until he became powerless...
Tiger's eyes paused. He casually pulled half of Lockhart's body onto shore. Seeing this son of a bitch had fallen unconscious, he smiled coldly.
"Rip!"
The once shining golden hair was torn off entirely by Tiger. Shrill screams rang out. Blood began seeping from his scalp.
"Cough cough... cough..."
"Ugh..."
The fully awakened Lockhart vomited painfully. Pungent, foul smell filled the lakeside. Lake water mixed with vomit covered Lockhart's chest.
"Shelby... I..."
Tiger ignored Lockhart.
Simply lifted his foot and stomped on the back of his head, crushing it hard into the foul vomit.
"Professor Lockhart."
"Can you tell me your conditions?"
Still the same question.
But this time, Lockhart didn't dare answer carelessly.
His thin body trembled violently. Terror and pain in his eyes nearly overflowed.
He forced himself to endure the pain of vomit flowing back into his nose. Screamed hoarsely:
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"No, I never said the word 'conditions.' Our dramatic performance should end, Shelby."
"Please, I need to go change. I've never heard the word 'conditions' from anyone except you."
Lockhart didn't know if he'd ever see Polly again. He only knew that if he said "conditions" again, he definitely wouldn't have a chance.
A low voice came from above.
"Very good, Professor."
"I hope you'll also tell that old bastard Dumbledore. Otherwise, I'll let your head truly experience the sphincter limits of history's strongest White Wizard."
As Tiger removed his foot, Lockhart immediately gasped for air. Relief at surviving mixed with sharp lung pain.
"Of... of course..."
His heartbeat thundered in his chest.
Lockhart supported his trembling legs, gritted his teeth, and struggled up from the ground.
He didn't dare look up at Tiger. Just scrambled toward the castle, afraid that one second later, this unreasonable beast would drown him in the Black Lake.
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