"The superhero has arrived!"
Even more violent tremors struck the corridor.
A massive, obsidian form swept through the air like a falling meteor, crashing down thunderously before Hermione and the others.
Bulging, serpentine muscles—each one swollen like cast iron, radiating explosive power that made the very air hum with menace.
Floor tiles instantly caved and shattered, shock waves rippling outward in devastating rings.
Heart-stopping whistling filled the air as the massive wooden club—gnarled roots twisted into a weapon of destruction—came smashing down with accumulated kinetic energy that could pulverize stone.
Like steel gates snapping shut with mechanical precision, Venom's arms crossed in a blur, catching the hurtling club mid-flight.
Razor-sharp metallic barbs erupted from his palms and forearms, absorbing every ounce of the crushing impact.
The collision exploded through the corridor like thunder. Ancient stones trembled in their foundations as shock waves sent Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Neville's hair whipping in chaotic tangles.
From extreme violence to absolute stillness.
The muscular, alien form hadn't budged a millimeter.
"Bad troll... time to die!"
Night-predator laughter rumbled from Venom's throat—a sound that belonged in nightmares.
Venom's hands slowly closed like a vise, gripping both ends of the massive club. With deliberate, terrifying strength, he began twisting—wringing it like wet laundry.
Teeth-grinding creaks echoed through the corridor as ancient wood protested.
The club—thick as a man's torso and hard as stone—crumbled like a stale biscuit in Venom's grip. Splinters exploded in all directions, clattering against walls like wooden rain.
The troll stumbled backward, its dull eyes flickering with something approaching comprehension. Fear. Raw, primal terror that transcended its limited intelligence.
It didn't understand what Venom was, but every primitive instinct screamed the same message: apex predator.
Hermione and the others stared at Venom's rippling back, despair slowly bleeding from their eyes like poison drawn from a wound.
"Let me get a good look at you lot."
Venom twisted his head with inhuman flexibility. The grotesque mask peeled back partially, revealing Tiger's fierce features beneath—a predator wearing human skin.
His fangs stretched in an exaggerated rictus, gleaming like polished daggers in the flickering torchlight. Pure malice and dark amusement radiated from every line of his face.
"Anyone wet themselves from fright?"
The words emerged as a low, dual-toned growl—as if two voices spoke in perfect, terrifying harmony. Each syllable carried bone-deep cold.
Even so, Neville showed no fear. Instead, he bounced excitedly, face glowing with hero worship.
"Venom! Tiger!"
Harry and Ron instinctively glanced down at their robes, exhaling in relief.
Sensing Tiger's substantial attention, Hermione snapped her head up from where she'd been studying the floor. Her cheeks blazed crimson.
"I would never wet myself!" the little lioness declared, baring her teeth with wounded dignity.
Tiger rolled his eyes. Venom had asked that question—he wasn't nearly that juvenile.
Neville struggled to his feet, cherubic face radiating pure adoration.
"I knew it! I knew you'd come save us!"
Strangely, when the club had come whistling toward them, Neville's mind hadn't conjured his grandmother's protective image—but Venom's terrifying, magnificent grin.
"Naturally. Superheroes always arrive fashionably late. Prepare the after-dinner treat, chubby."
"Treat? After dinner?"
Neville looked puzzled.
"If I'm not mistaken, Mr. Venom intends to consume that troll."
"Were I you, Mr. Longbottom, I'd package myself as dessert..."
Gemma Farley and her Slytherin contingent had materialized behind Hermione's group like shadows given form. Their expressions radiated arctic indifference—as if acknowledging the Gryffindors' existence would somehow diminish their noble bloodlines.
Only Raven Bork spoke with genuine gravity.
"After all, given your demonstrated intelligence levels, you'll inevitably face death again soon. Why not—"
"Make efficient use of waste materials?"
To him, this wasn't mockery—merely pragmatic business conducted in Father's service. Everything possessed value, even Gryffindor stupidity.
As Slytherins, they genuinely couldn't fathom this peculiar Gryffindor tendency toward collective suicide.
Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously, scanning for something heavy enough to relocate this boy's front teeth.
"We were just—" Neville began, face flushing as his voice dropped to barely audible mumbling.
"Damn Slytherins! You're the waste! Always lurking in shadows like—"
Ron surged upright, indignation blazing, but Harry clamped a hand over his mouth.
Now wasn't the time for House rivalries.
"Oi, Bork!"
Venom's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Show some respect."
Neville's my friend. Hermione'sTiger's friend. Keep running that mouth and I'll find myself a different dessert..."
Venom licked his lips with a tongue that belonged on no earthly creature, tilting his head toward the restless troll with predatory anticipation.
The Slytherins' pupils contracted. They shifted subtly, reassessing Hermione and Neville with newfound wariness.
Gemma Farley's gaze dropped momentarily. In that instant of calculation, her lips curved in an expression of pure feminine venom—not House rivalry, but something far more personal.
Hermione caught that look immediately. The hostility was unmistakable—woman evaluating woman with the cold precision of a dueling blade.
Hermione didn't fully understand the emotion, but she recognized the threat. This coldly beautiful Slytherin had just declared war.
"Mr. Longbottom. Miss Granger."
Raven Bork's voice carried sudden formality. The calculating merchant's mask fell away, replaced by something approaching genuine solemnity.
"Please accept my sincerest apologies."
He executed a perfect pureblood bow—the kind reserved for social equals.
Ron's jaw nearly dislocated. He knew pureblood arrogance intimately—watching one bow to a Muggle-born was like witnessing a dragon apologize to a field mouse.
Merlin's sequined knickers, what was happening to the world?
But as Raven straightened, his gaze toward Ron and Harry remained pure, undiluted contempt. The message was clear: Hermione and Neville had earned respect through Tiger's friendship. The other two remained beneath notice.
"Ooh, chocolate drop, finally ready to play? Come to daddy..."
Venom's rumbling purr interrupted the social dynamics. All eyes turned toward their massive, unwilling entertainment.
The troll pressed against the corridor wall like a cornered rat, issuing desperate threats and roars at Venom. Its limited intelligence couldn't devise an escape route—only primal, futile defiance remained.
"ROAAAAR!"
The bellow shattered the air as the troll's body coiled with desperate fury. Bloated muscles surged beneath mottled skin like magma seeking release.
Stone foundations groaned under its weight.
With nowhere to run, the creature charged—a mountain of flesh and rage seeking to bulldoze through Venom into the corridor beyond.
The ground-shaking assault made Harry and Ron scramble backward, instinctive terror overriding courage.
Only the Slytherins remained composed, drawing wands to cast Cleaning Charms on themselves. Their expressions showed mild distaste—the troll's stench offended them far more than its violence.
The charging beast closed distance rapidly. Hermione could distinguish individual warts on its greasy hide, smell the rancid saliva dripping from yellowed fangs.
"Now we're talking!"
Venom grinned with anticipation that belonged in the deepest circles of hell.
Facing the tsunami of putrid flesh, his arms swelled with alien strength that defied human anatomy.
At the moment of impact, Venom pivoted and drove a devastating backhand into the troll's gut.
The punch landed with cannon-fire percussion. Visible shock waves rippled across the creature's belly as Venom's fist sank deep into yielding flesh.
Under Ron and Harry's horrified stares, the troll achieved brief, involuntary flight.
Momentum reversed in an instant—the charging behemoth became a screaming projectile. It tumbled end over end through the air, a grotesque pinwheel of limbs and terror, before CRASHING through the corridor's far wall.
Ancient stones exploded inward. Dust billowed like a volcanic eruption, and somewhere in the rubble, the troll's agonized wails echoed like a dying steam engine.
Venom brushed imaginary dust from his claws and turned back to his audience with the satisfied expression of a job well done.
"Anyone else hungry?"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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