Fortunately, when the long-awaited Chinese feast appeared on the Slytherin table, complaints instantly vanished, and the new students' eyes widened dramatically.
Exquisite, gorgeous delicacies lay before them, rich sweet aromas wafting like silk around their noses.
This wasn't merely a visual feast—before their taste buds even made contact, the desire for deliciousness had already awakened in every Slytherin's heart.
"Try some, Astoria."
"It's really good..."
Daphne thoughtfully served her sister some pastries. The delicate lion-shaped cookies were so beautiful the little girl couldn't bear to bite them.
Seeing the upper-year students picking up their knives and forks, the new students—already dizzy with hunger—hurriedly began eating.
"You can eat flowers?"
Leon Shafiq accepted the lotus pastry his sister handed him, his young eyes full of confusion and amazement.
"Everything on the table except the utensils is edible."
Riley Shafiq glanced coolly at her brother, then picked up a lotus pastry herself.
The crispy, sweet texture pampered the tongue with every bite. After a clear crunch came the soft, delicate interior—smooth as jade, seeming to melt directly into one's heart.
The dessert brought satisfaction and joy from within, gradually spreading throughout the body as their stomachs filled.
The new students' pale, frightened faces quickly regained color, with barely contained excitement and amazement rising and falling.
Seeing Tiger attempt to grab dumplings with his hands, Theodore, Burstrode, and others all set down their utensils, silently watching him.
"What?" Tiger's brow furrowed dangerously.
But no one said anything, letting the pleading in their eyes run wild.
Theodore even tried hard to widen his eyes.
Though his emotional expression wasn't quite right, Tiger correctly understood his brother's meaning.
"Fine, fine!"
"Stop looking at me like that—I know what to do!"
Tiger irritably withdrew his hand, picked up his fork, and elegantly speared the dumpling back onto his plate, then methodically cut it in half with his knife.
Fuck...
He couldn't help cursing silently.
Seeing this, Burstrode and the others lowered their eyes, picked up their utensils, and began eating breakfast, slight smiles playing at their lips.
Slytherin was fighting desperately to change, and they hoped Father could make some changes too.
Using torn beef bones as toothpicks or carelessly staining himself with grease—such behavior unbecoming of his status—they didn't want to see anymore.
This wasn't for Slytherin, but for Slytherin's leader, for Shelby...
Tiger grew increasingly uncomfortable eating, not because of the change in habits, but because someone was still watching him.
He silently raised his head and met those eyes.
"Why aren't you eating?"
Actually, what Tiger wanted to ask was: Do you want to eat me?
Gemma Farley's intense, sticky gaze made him rather uncomfortable, like ants crawling on him.
"Is this some new curse magic?"
"Like making people unable to eat?!"
Tiger looked irritably toward Gemma Farley's spokesperson. Riley Shafiq's mouth twitched slightly.
"It's not. Farley isn't very hungry."
Cool fingertips couldn't help pinching her friend's arm under the table, trying to remind her of something.
Looking at Gemma Farley's face—noticeably thinner, filled with pale, fragile beauty—Tiger looked skeptical.
"You sure?"
"I think she's about to die..."
"Have you figured out how to handle it?"
These blunt words struck Riley Shafiq like a heavy hammer, making her chest tight.
So the love potion was absolutely ridiculous—besides the victim, who the hell would fancy this beast?!
The short-haired girl silently lowered her head, not wanting to look at Tiger again. To her, the love potion deserved to die, Tiger deserved to die more, and only the tormented Farley was innocent.
"If I really die..."
"Just fill my ashes into your utensils, so I can accompany you for three meals a day."
The cold, calm voice finally spoke.
But these words, which others might see as malicious provocation, made Riley Shafiq bang her head on the table.
"Merlin, spare me!"
Her friend's do-or-die determination left her somewhat collapsed.
Tiger completely lost his appetite.
As time passed, more and more students filled the Great Hall. Just as the Slytherins were rubbing their bellies and secretly burping, dark clouds suddenly covered the ceiling.
Over a hundred owls flew into the Great Hall together.
Before students from various houses could hide their breakfast under the tables, feathers and bird droppings were already falling.
Only the Slytherins calmly stood up, preparing to leave the Great Hall for their classrooms.
"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"
The furious maternal roar made Tiger suddenly stop, turning around in panic.
Fortunately, the voice didn't come from Mother Polly, but from a red letter with particularly vicious fangs.
"I thought it was Mom."
Theodore clutched his chest, face slightly pale.
"Me too..." Tiger imperceptibly suppressed his rapidly beating heart.
Seeing the brothers' instinctive reactions, Gemma Farley raised an eyebrow slightly, seeming to notice something.
A moment later, a barely perceptible wicked smile flashed through her cold, proud eyes.
At the nearby Gryffindor table, Ron sat pale-faced, staring in terror with wide eyes as the deafening roar made his face tremble.
"This is a disgrace to the Weasley name!"
"Your father was fined fifty Galleons! Plus suspended pending inquiry! This is all your fault!"
"If you dare make another mistake, we'll bring you straight home!"
Before the words finished, the Howler burst into flames. Everyone seemed to feel Mrs. Weasley's fury through the fire.
Ron sat there stunned, watching the letter turn to ash, unable to speak for a long time.
Until faint laughter arose around him.
"Whew~~"
Draco whistled gleefully.
"Fifty Galleons."
"How terrible—that's a fortune for the Weasley family. They won't have to sell their house, will they?"
Though not loud, the words clearly reached Ron and Harry's ears...
"Malfoy!"
Hermione glared angrily at Draco.
Though she was annoyed by Ron's brainlessness, as a friend, she had to step in.
"Alright, alright, I won't say anything."
Draco shook his head with raised hands, as if surrendering. He always kept his distance from Hermione.
However, his pale, flippant face still wore a rich smile, full of contempt and provocation toward Ron—as if mocking Ron for being just a coward hiding behind a girl.
"Malfoy!"
"What makes you so special?!"
Ron stood up through gritted teeth, walking step by step toward the Slytherins, face flushed red.
"You're nothing but a vile Death Eater's son! What are you so proud of—that your father nearly got thrown into Azkaban?!"
"What!"
Draco's smile froze.
"Son of a bitch Weasley!"
With an angry roar, Draco lunged straight at Ron. Unexpectedly, the seemingly frail platinum-haired boy actually pinned Ron beneath him.
His tightly clenched fist swung hard toward Ron...
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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