"Hmm..."
As time passed, a peculiar and perplexed expression crossed Dumbledore's weathered features.
The magical power within Tiger's body wasn't particularly abundant—no different from other Shelby Family members. It felt like hardened pebbles crystallized within his core.
He retained vivid memories of an Obscurus's chaotic, terrifying magical signature, yet he couldn't detect even a whisper of it here.
Instead, through his own magical senses, he perceived an evil, savage soul with utterly chaotic thoughts. The sheer volume and density of this consciousness was absolutely unprecedented.
Obscurials fed on their host's suppressed magic and emotions—they couldn't possibly generate independent souls...
"This is simply miraculous..."
Venom itself possessed no magical power, but precisely because of this, Dumbledore released an irrepressible sigh of wonder.
"It is a genuine, living entity. It's not an Obscurus. It's more akin to a..."
Even the usually eloquent elder found himself at a loss for appropriate terminology.
"Magical creature?" Mother Polly studied her youngest son Tiger with mounting anxiety.
"Perhaps..."
Dumbledore didn't entirely embrace the classification.
Technically speaking, magical creatures possessed inherent magic, but presently, no more suitable designation existed.
Just as he prepared to withdraw his fingertip, a semi-solidified black liquid tentacle materialized like a phantom, coiling around his finger with serpentine grace.
Dumbledore's eyes flickered with interest, but upon catching the resignation and calm in Tiger's gaze, he permitted Venom's appendage to spread vine-like until it encased his wrist entirely.
"Hey there, dear chocolate bean."
"I'm absolutely fascinated by your magical essence. Might we continue this delightful encounter?"
Venom spoke in its characteristic flirtatious drawl.
After confirming this terrifying old codger posed no threat to Tiger, its confidence swelled considerably. The menacing, nightmarish head emerged from behind Tiger's neck, offering what it considered a friendly greeting.
Though to any observer, the scene remained spine-chillingly horrific.
"Naturally, dear friend."
"Where do you originate from?"
Dumbledore displayed obvious fascination with Venom.
Despite his magical energy being siphoned at an imperceptible rate, he remained unconcerned.
His priority lay in understanding exactly what Venom represented.
Though Venom wasn't an Obscurus, that soul-deep evil and chaos bore striking resemblance to Obscurial magical characteristics. Dumbledore couldn't afford carelessness.
"Friend? Haha!"
"I adore that word."
Given Dumbledore's formidable power, Venom forced its meat-grinder maw into what passed for a grin, feigning jovial laughter.
"I spring from Tiger. I manifested when he turned seven. We're brothers."
"I cherish this foul-mouthed bastard, and I believe he cherishes me too, don't you?"
The statement rang true.
Venom nearly licked Tiger's cheek before Tiger's murderous glare forced retreat.
"This fellow's actually quite shy..."
Venom awkwardly tongued the corner of its maw.
Dumbledore's magical essence felt intoxicating. A few more minutes of conversation would definitely elevate its evolutionary tier.
Of course, if it could achieve parasitic union just once...
Copious saliva began pooling between razor teeth at the thought.
"Indeed, I can observe that clearly."
"You share a remarkable bond..."
Dumbledore possessed the wisdom to perceive essence beneath surface appearances.
He keenly detected Venom's ravenous, burning hunger while simultaneously sensing the restraint and boundaries Venom maintained beneath its madness.
An invisible yet unbreakable barrier—one that originated entirely from Tiger.
With this realization, Dumbledore smiled and crooked his finger.
The semi-liquid threads encasing his wrist encountered resistance and gradually receded.
"Mr. Venom, the pleasure has been mine, though delightful interludes must inevitably conclude. You'll forgive an old man's pressing obligations, won't you?"
"Oh... naturally..."
Venom reluctantly withdrew its appendages, retreating into Tiger's form to metabolize the absorbed magical energy.
"Polly, Lawrence..."
Dumbledore winked at Tiger before struggling upright, massaging his thighs with audible pops.
"Ah, excellent news indeed. Mr. Venom is decidedly not an Obscurus. From all appearances, Tiger remains perfectly safe."
"Then what the bloody hell is this thing?"
Lawrence appeared increasingly agitated within his portrait frame, as though desperate to escape the confines of paint and canvas, his eyes brimming with paternal concern for Tiger.
"I suspect this represents a mutation of The Shelby Family's bloodline magic—something resembling life alchemy, perhaps."
"You understand."
"I possess limited expertise in alchemical matters."
Dumbledore's beard quivered with theatrical flair, his demeanor notably relaxed.
Observing Lawrence's continued anxiety, he smiled reassuringly:
"Nicolas would absolutely relish meeting Tiger. Trust me—given sufficient time..."
"Very well, Dumbledore..."
Hearing Dumbledore's assurance, Lawrence finally relaxed marginally, settling back wearily into his portrait's armchair.
"Polly." Dumbledore's expression carried subtle gravity. "Mr. Venom is extraordinarily unique..."
Before he could elaborate further, Mother Polly anticipated his direction. She irritably discarded her cigar with sharp movements.
"It's merely a somewhat distinctive Obscurus—not some damned bloodline magical mutation. Tiger remains an Obscurial who could perish at any moment!"
A rare, specialized magic would inevitably attract the covetous attention of the wizarding world's power brokers.
But an Obscurial capable of obliterating entire cities when provoked would only inspire universal avoidance.
"You remain brilliantly perceptive."
Dumbledore chuckled with genuine admiration before turning toward Tiger, who was engaged in heated mutual verbal combat with Venom.
"Mr. Shelby..."
"The pleasure has been entirely mine. You're a fundamentally good person. I eagerly anticipate our reunion at Hogwarts."
"Really?"
Tiger snapped his head up with sudden intensity.
His amber eyes blazed with unexpected brightness as they fixed on Dumbledore—the first genuine warmth he'd shown this presumptuous intruder.
"You honestly believe I'm a good person?"
As though receiving recognition for the first time in his existence, Tiger's voice carried unmistakable excitement.
Only Mother Polly and big brother Arthur responded with helpless eye-rolls and exasperated gestures.
"Absolutely."
Dumbledore's smile radiated grandfatherly warmth.
"Bloody hell!"
Tiger cocked his head and released a triumphant gang-style roar.
He then strode directly to Dumbledore and thrust out his right hand with aggressive enthusiasm, his posture resembling a challenge to mortal combat.
"Damn it!"
"Headmaster, I've got to say—your fucking eyesight is spot-on brilliant."
"I'm genuinely looking forward to our next meeting. We'll definitely have to raise those son-of-a-bitch glasses in proper celebration."
"..."
The room fell into momentary silence as Mother Polly's lips curved into something that might charitably be called a smile.
"Mr. Shelby..." Dumbledore shook Tiger's hand with visible resignation and mounting headache.
"I sincerely hope our next encounter finds you... somewhat transformed. At least within school grounds..."
"You understand..."
Before Tiger could formulate a response, Dumbledore vanished from his position, leaving only a soft pop echoing through the chamber.
Such an abrupt departure bore unmistakable resemblance to tactical retreat.
Tiger couldn't care less. He turned and spat contemptuously before flashing his family a smugly triumphant grin.
"Hey, Mom! Arthur!"
"That old bastard called me a good person! Haha—I'm starting to genuinely like the codger..."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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