"Idiot! Coward!"
"Don't forget his weakness!"
"Kill him!"
"Kill him now, then bring the boy in and retrieve the Philosopher's Stone..."
Voldemort's glacial voice hissed urgently from the back of his skull.
Simultaneously, soul-deep agony struck like winter's cruelest wind—piercing straight through bone and marrow.
Quirrell snapped awake from his daze.
The initial terror slowly drained from his eyes, crystallizing into something cold and vicious.
"Shelby, you shouldn't have come here."
His voice rasped like a broken bellows as Quirrell slowly raised his hand, pulling back his tattered hood.
Time seemed to freeze.
What had once been a gentle, timid face was now a roadmap of horrific burn scars—twisted and writhing like centipedes across his flesh.
Below his collarbone, barely healed rot and exposed bone gleamed wetly, charred black and reeking of decay.
"Bloody hell!"
Venom's breathing turned predatory, then erupted in pure frustration.
"Another spoiled chocolate treat!"
He stalked toward Quirrell with deadly intent. Venom had zero patience for rancid prey.
The suffocating presence of an apex predator rolled off him in waves...
Learning from bitter experience, Quirrell wasted no words. Before Venom could strike, he whipped out his wand and pressed it to his throat.
"Say goodbye, Shelby!"
"Mimicus Sonus!"
The Voice Mimicry Charm flickered at his wand tip like a dying star.
Quirrell's jaw distorted grotesquely, his mouth gaping impossibly wide.
The rotting flesh above his collarbone began writhing obscenely—like countless savage little mouths opening in unison.
Visible sound waves erupted from Quirrell's throat, carrying an indescribable aura of malevolent doom.
Instantly, layer upon layer of sonic assault—the razor-sharp resonant screams of banshees—exploded through the chamber with violent intensity.
A symphony of torture began, but for Venom and Tiger, it was nothing short of agony.
Venom's advance stopped dead as he instinctively clutched his head, but the resonating waves penetrated everything.
It felt like thousands of red-hot needles simultaneously piercing his eardrums—each strike surgical in its precision and cruelty.
"FUCK!!!"
Twin roars of anguish tore through the air.
Venom's mask began separating from Tiger's contorted face, stretching like taffy as if someone was violently ripping apart their symbiotic bond.
The massive obsidian form crashed to the stone floor.
His body displayed agonizing tension—like a violin string stretched beyond its breaking point...
Exactly!
Cold satisfaction flickered in Quirrell's eyes.
Die, Shelby!
The next moment, chunks of masonry rained down as the sound waves exploded with even more devastating force. The ear-splitting, heart-rending resonance sliced through Venom's form like a chainsaw.
Ever since the Opening Feast, Voldemort's attention had been laser-focused on Tiger.
An Obscurial—and the rare mutated Obscurus dwelling within him—both represented immense strategic value.
When the Sorting Hat had released that piercing shriek, Tiger's sudden volatility and loss of control had been like lightning in a storm—brief but impossible to ignore. Voldemort had catalogued every detail.
In the days that followed, Quirrell would occasionally test him with strategic sounds.
Faced with sudden harsh noises, Tiger would invariably tense, his expression darkening with displeasure and revulsion. Louder sounds made him instinctively retreat.
Pure self-preservation instinct.
And every single reaction had been filed away in Voldemort's memory...
"Get back, Venom!"
"Get the hell back!"
"I can kill this bastard myself!"
Tiger's eyes blazed crimson, his face a mask of excruciating pain, veins bulging across his forehead like lightning.
"Despicable piece of shit!"
With Venom's reluctant roar, Tiger stood fully revealed. He clenched his fists, struggling to rise, blood seeping between his gritted teeth.
Wave after wave of body-shredding agony crashed over him, threatening to drag him under.
Tiger slowly straightened his spine.
His blazing, feral gaze locked onto Quirrell with predatory intensity—displaying the kind of savage ferocity that made hearts skip beats.
"Son of a bitch, I'm gonna rip out your kidney stones and shove them up your ass!"
The guttural snarl leaked through his teeth like a trapped beast's final roar.
Indescribable torment flowed beneath every word.
Steady, implacable steps carried him toward Quirrell—each footfall like a hammer blow to the man's heart, the rhythm accelerating.
Tiger drew brass knuckles from his coat, slipping them on with a savage grin as blood and saliva dripped from his mouth.
"You pathetic fuck—you seriously underestimated me!"
Watching this human predator approach, Quirrell's heart hammered against his ribs.
He stumbled backward involuntarily, and the chamber's resonance seemed to falter slightly.
"Fool! What are you afraid of!"
"Give me control!" Voldemort seized Quirrell's body in fury.
He understood perfectly—Quirrell's magical reserves had reached their absolute limit, his physical form barely holding together. If Tiger wasn't eliminated now, they'd have no power left to resist.
The resonance paused for a heartbeat, then concentrated with laser focus in front of Quirrell, forming rippling walls of sonic devastation.
But Tiger relied on sheer, inhuman willpower to suppress the agony. He crouched low and exploded forward—advancing instead of retreating.
His thunderous step shattered floor tiles in all directions.
Sensing something, Voldemort's gaze flicked almost imperceptibly toward Tiger's rear.
"Protego!"
"DIE!!!"
The furious battle cry erupted as violent air displacement shattered layer upon layer of sound waves. The five spikes on his brass knuckles gleamed with soul-stealing menace.
Magic-breaking. Disruption. Impact.
The moment those runes blazed to life, Voldemort'sShield Charm popped like a soap bubble.
"CRACK!"
Tsunami-force devastation swept forward.
A sickening wet thud echoed through the chamber.
Like striking rotted leather, Quirrell's body rocketed backward like artillery fire.
He traced a bone-jarring trajectory through the air.
The impact with the far wall was thunderous—a dull, resonating crash before he slumped lifelessly to the ground, debris raining down around him.
But horrifyingly, the ear-splitting Voice Mimicry Charm continued unabated.
Smoke cleared rapidly, revealing the motionless Quirrell beneath the wall... slowly crumbling into scattered stones.
"Fuck..."
Just as Tiger reached his breaking point, terrified screams suddenly erupted behind him.
Tiger gritted his teeth and forced himself to look back.
Before the door wreathed in black flames, Harry was being violently tackled to the ground by Quirrell, their silhouettes dancing in firelight and shadow.
"Tell me, boy!"
"Where is the Philosopher's Stone?!"
Tiamat, who'd entered next, completely ignored the scene unfolding.
"Father!"
He sprinted straight to Tiger.
The golden bracelet on his wrist instantly dissolved into cascading points of light.
Sacred scarabs awakened like stars, scattering through the air to weave an intricate pattern.
The body-rending agony vanished instantly.
The harsh, cacophonous shrieking was silenced, leaving only eerie, absolute quiet.
Tiamat's anxious face hovered inches away, his lips moving rapidly as if asking urgent questions.
But Tiger heard nothing.
Only that persistent, faint ringing—like lonely echoes from the ocean's depths.
Just then, the murderous gleam in Tiger's eyes shifted toward Tiamat's back.
Blinding fire and smoke erupted from Harry's chest as shrapnel and steel balls scattered like deadly rain.
Quirrell's body was swept into the air like a leaf in a hurricane, torn apart completely.
Surveying the scattered limbs and devastation, Harry collapsed unconscious.
The claymore mine's casing slid from his body, the wooden talisman on his wrist crumbling to black ash...
Cold, sinister howling swept through the chamber.
Tiger shoved Tiamat aside.
Surging, scorching flames wrapped around half his body as flesh receded, revealing pale, hollow eye sockets staring into the void.
Faced with hellfire, Voldemort's remnant soul dared not approach—only glaring with infinite hatred at Harry before wrapping himself in dark wind and vanishing into nothingness...
"Tiger!"
Moments later, a familiar voice rang out behind him.
Tiger, clinging to his final thread of consciousness, finally recalled the flames.
"You bastard—I will find you!"
In his dimming vision, the black fire at the doorway extinguished.
The fluffy lioness ran toward him in tears, Dumbledore following behind as he lifted Harry's unconscious form.
"And you too, old man..."
"I'll get you eventually... fuck..."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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