Chapter 148: Gift
Tamara's hand hung suspended in the dead air of the Great Hall, her fingers locked in a rigid claw.
At this critical moment, right after Dumbledore had left and the atmosphere in the castle remained dangerously unclear, if she were to suddenly burst into tears while hugging Ginny Weasley in front of the entire student body, her painstakingly crafted, terrifyingly elegant image would be completely shattered.
'You despicable, malfunctioning piece of garbage.'Tamara let out a desperate, furious roar within the confines of her own mind.'Can you not see? This is not a blessing at all! This is harassment! This is blatant coercion!''She is trying to force a massive slab of greasy trash down my throat! In any civilized society, this would be legally defined as an assault!'
However, the System's mechanical, overly cheerful electronic voice merely echoed in her mind with a sickening sense of righteous confidence, carrying an impeccable, inescapable logical loop.
[Logical self-consistency check in progress... Check passed.]
[Host, please note that this System's judgment logic is entirely based on your previously established behavioral patterns.]
[Reviewing historical data: In previous interactions, you successfully categorized your sarcasm, mental suppression, and blatant disregard for Miss Weasley as 'tough love,''strict teaching to fortify her mental fortitude,' and'frustration-based education to cultivate independence.']
[The System has deeply assimilated this pedagogical logic.]
[Therefore, according to the principle of reciprocity in emotional interaction:]
[Since you are actively roleplaying a well-intentioned, strict mentor, Miss Weasley's current behavior is naturally interpreted by the System as...]
[The most passionate, unreserved, and even slightly clumsy sincere reciprocation from a student deeply moved by your great love!]
[This is ironclad proof of your educational success! A glorious preview of a world filled with your devoted disciples!]
[Please do not underestimate yourself, Host. With a heart brimming with relief and emotion, consume this fruit of your educational labor in large, enthusiastic bites!]
She looked down at the massive sandwich sitting before her. It radiated an offensive amount of heat and the cloying stench of cheap cooking grease. Then she looked up at Ginny's beaming face. The Gryffindor girl's bright brown eyes practically screamed a single, unspoken threat: eat it, or I will throw a massive tantrum right here.
She had absolutely no choice.
"...Just this once."
Tamara squeezed the words out from between her tightly clenched teeth.
She took a slow, deep breath, violently suppressing the sheer humiliation and nausea rising in her throat. Her pale, slender hand reached out, trembling ever so slightly, and accepted the heavy, greasy monstrosity.
Then, under Ginny's suffocatingly maternal gaze, she took a stiff, mechanical bite.
"Is it good?" Ginny asked, a wide, genuine smile splitting her face. She actually reached out, her thumb lightly brushing the corner of Tamara's mouth to wipe away a completely non-existent smudge of sauce.
"...It is terrible, do not touch me."
Tamara chewed expressionlessly. Her jaw moved up and down, but she felt as though she wasn't chewing roasted beef. She felt as though she was tearing into Ginny Weasley's raw flesh.
"Then I will bring you something else tomorrow!"
Ginny was not discouraged in the slightest. Instead, she nodded with deep satisfaction, patted Tamara affectionately on the shoulder, and turned away. Humming a cheerful little tune, the red-haired girl marched away from the Slytherin table looking exactly like a conquering hero.
It wasn't until that flash of red completely disappeared through the grand oak doors of the Great Hall that the room, which seemed to have been trapped under a collective Body-Bind Curse, finally shattered its silence. A tidal wave of incredulous buzzing and frantic whispers erupted across the four long tables.
The Gryffindor table was by far the loudest.
Fred and George Weasley sat completely frozen, their forks suspended halfway to their open mouths. Their identical faces mirrored the exact same expression of utter stupefaction.
"George, was that Ginny just now?" Fred rubbed his eyes, staring blankly at the empty space where his sister had just been standing. "I mean, was that actually our sister? She dared to march over to the Slytherin table all by herself? And she just fed that Riddle a sandwich?"
"If there is nothing wrong with my vision, then yes, Fred." George turned his neck mechanically, the joints practically creaking as he looked at his twin.
They stared at each other in absolute silence.
Sure, they harbored a decent impression of Tamara Riddle. She had stayed at The Burrow over the summer, they had witnessed her delivering those gloomy little monologues by the lake all alone, and they knew their mother Molly spoke highly of the poor, destitute girl.
But this was Hogwarts. And that was the Slytherin table.
How did little Ginny possess the sheer nerve to charge into the snake pit single-handedly?
The twins sat with their mouths hanging open, completely unable to process the sheer absurdity of the scene they had just witnessed.
"This is truly outrageous."
Sitting a few seats down, Percy Weasley scowled. He slammed his golden goblet of pumpkin juice onto the wooden table with a heavy thud, letting out a loud huff of bureaucratic disapproval.
He reached up, carefully straightening the polished silver prefect badge pinned to his chest, and glared at his two dazed younger brothers.
"While Mum does favor that Riddle girl and even permitted her to stay under our roof... that serves as absolutely no excuse for Ginny to blatantly ignore school rules!"
Percy pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, his tone dripping with the exhausted distress of a middle manager.
"Intruding upon another House's designated seating area without prior permission? Publicly shoving classmates out of the way? And making such... such an unseemly, intimate gesture in front of the entire student body!"
"This is simply bringing shame to the noble name of Gryffindor! This caliber of impolite behavior might very well result in a severe deduction of House points!"
He puffed out his chest, fully assuming the insufferable air of an elder brother playing the role of a strict father, and continued to ramble.
"The atmosphere in the castle is incredibly tense right now. Yet, instead of considering how to properly maintain order, she runs off to the Slytherin side to instigate trouble. As a Gryffindor prefect, I have a solemn responsibility to remind her—"
"Oh, give it a rest, Percy."
Fred rolled his eyes so hard he nearly tilted backward, unceremoniously cutting off the pompous lecture on propriety.
"You are just jealous that Ginny actually had the guts to run wild on Slytherin turf."
George immediately caught the rhythm, leaning forward with a wicked, mocking grin.
"Exactly. And what about you? Dear Mr. Prefect, every single time you cross paths with Snape in the corridors, you don't even dare to breathe too loudly. You are just busy bowing and scraping like a spineless flobberworm."
"That is basic respect for a Professor!" Percy sputtered, his ears turning a brilliant shade of crimson.
On the complete opposite side of the Great Hall, the reaction at the Slytherin table was entirely different.
"Merlin's beard..."
Pansy Parkinson sat a few seats away, one hand clamped firmly over her mouth. She stared at Tamara with wide, unblinking eyes, her expression a chaotic mixture of absolute shock and deep, deep admiration.
"Tamara, you are simply incredible..."
"...What?" Tamara finally swallowed that dry, agonizingly hard-to-chew bite of beef. She turned her head, shooting Pansy a look cold enough to freeze the Black Lake.
"That Weasley... that feral girl from the ultimate blood traitor family!"
Pansy leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, though her tone still trembled with raw excitement.
"She looked like a rampaging troll when she shoved Goyle out of the way just now! But... but she acts as obedient as a beaten House-elf the second she stands in front of you!"
"She actually took the initiative to bring you food! She even tried to wipe your mouth!"
Draco Malfoy leaned across the table, his pale, pointed face suddenly lighting up with an expression of absolute realization.
"I see it now... Tamara, you did all of this on purpose, did you not?"
"You are taming her!"
Tamara paused. '?'
Draco stared at the half-eaten sandwich still clutched in Tamara's hand, his silver eyes practically shining with pure, unadulterated awe.
"Making a Gryffindor, and especially one from the Weasley family, completely betray their own House just to serve a Slytherin... this is the absolute highest level of psychological humiliation and conquest!"
"No wonder you were actually willing to eat that filthy thing. So it is all just a calculated part of your method for training that country rube!"
"As expected of you, Tamara! Such ruthless, brilliant methods would even make my father admit defeat!"
Hearing the rising waves of praise echoing around her, and feeling the sheer weight of those blindly worshipping gazes locking onto her face.
Tamara's hand, still gripping the greasy bread, began to tremble.
She stared at Draco's smug, self-righteous face. In that specific second, the Dark Lord wanted nothing more than to violently shove the remaining half of the sandwich directly up the Malfoy heir's nostrils.
Which eye did these absolute idiots use to see her taming Ginny Weasley?
This was blatant, unadulterated humiliation!
But she could not say a single word of that aloud.
Tamara Riddle, the terrifying, brilliant future ruler of the entire Wizarding world, could only sit there and swallow the suffocating grief and indignation burning in her chest. Surrounded by a sea of blindly worshipping sycophants, she forced her facial muscles to maintain that deep, unreadable, and utterly fake smile.
She let out a low, chilling laugh, casually tossing the sandwich back onto her silver plate.
"As long as they remain obedient, I do not mind granting those lowly creatures a little... grace."
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