Chapter 141: So This is the Professor Snape You Are!
Lockhart's torn shirt fabric clung to the gilded floor, looking like a mistletoe wreath trampled by a crumple-horned snorkack.
The wizards of all years gathered around the long platform finally reacted. A small witch with pigtails gasped, her voice shrill and broken: "My Merlin! Hawkwood killed him!" As her cry died down, some of the more timid students around them immediately covered their eyes.
However, a group of boys were flushed with excitement.
"Look! The professor who supposedly defeated a troll got taken down by Dylan with one spell!"
"Hahahaha! He kept bragging, and I didn't believe it, but—Dylan really did handle a troll himself!"
"Exactly! Not many saw it, but the professors all vouched for it! This professor, who's useless in class, I seriously wonder how he wrote his books!"
A chattering crowd pointed and gesticulated at Lockhart on the platform. Unsurprisingly, most of these instigators were Gryffindor students.
A few Hufflepuff students looked distressed. A round-faced boy stepped forward, anxiously saying, "No matter what, someone call the school healer! He's bleeding so much!"
By the platform, Hermione's expression was conflicted: "He's not actually going to die, is he?"
Ron shrugged: "Who cares?"
A faint cry emanated from the platform. "My intestines, my intestines, I feel them spilling out—where's the doctor? Where's the doctor—I need a doctor!"
Lockhart lay on the ground, feeling warm blood gush from his body, his lips trembling with fear. He lay almost flat, daring not to move or speak loudly, terrified that too large a movement would actually cause his intestines to spill out. His whispered pleas for help were drowned out by the surrounding clamor.
Dylan pursed his lips. Seeing that it was indeed time to treat the man, he stepped forward, ready to cast a spell.
However, Professor Snape swept his robes around and strode over briskly, his robes flapping behind him. Snape reached Lockhart's side. Though his expression remained cold, Dylan, who had spent at least a year around him, sensed that Snape's mood at that moment... seemed rather good?
A nearly imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Snape's lips, but as his gaze fell upon the cowering, babbling Lockhart, a flicker of disgust crossed his eyes.
"Oh, the famous Lockhart, didn't you tell the students that if you and I were in the same year, perhaps Potter's wife would be yours, and the Boy Who Lived would be your child—"
Snape's lips tightened, the muscles in his cheeks flexing slightly as he bit out a few words. "It seems you've even lost the admiration of these young wizards around you now, haven't you?" Though a question, it carried an undeniable certainty.
As Snape spoke, he silently cast a spell to prevent the surrounding students from hearing him. Even Dylan was excluded. However—Dylan was close, and while Snape's silent spell was powerful, it couldn't stop Dylan, who had inexplicably mastered lip-reading after recently learning various creature languages. This allowed him to roughly understand why Snape was targeting Lockhart so fiercely.
—In fact, he should have realized it sooner.
After all, Professor Snape seemed to dislike everyone. But no matter how much he disliked someone, he rarely took any real action. The only one who could truly enrage Professor Snape was that "Pure Yuan."
Dylan clicked his tongue, momentarily unsure whether he should cast the counter-spell to save Lockhart. —Even if he hadn't hit a vital organ, too much blood loss could still lead to death.
But thankfully, Professor Snape seemed to only want to teach Lockhart a lesson. After speaking, without waiting for Lockhart's reaction, he reached out and directly lifted Lockhart's head by his hair, like dragging a dead pig. With his other hand, he drew his wand, pointed it at Lockhart's bloodied body, and rapidly moved his thin lips, chanting the counter-spell for Sectumsempra.
"Vulnera Sanentur... Vulnera Sanentur... Vulnera Sanentur..."
Professor Snape's voice was deep and strong, and as he chanted the Healing Charm, it seemed to imbue the surrounding air with a mysterious pull. As Snape's wand moved rhythmically above the wound, Lockhart's exposed flesh gradually began to close inward, and the bleeding noticeably slowed. The splattered blood around them gathered drop by drop, forming a thin red stream that circled the two of them before re-entering Lockhart's wound.
As the blood continuously flowed back, the wound on Lockhart's body completely healed—until not even a trace remained.
The spell Sectumsempra is powerful, yet it can be completely healed with just its counter-spell, erasing all damage caused by it. This is precisely why Sectumsempra, created by Professor Snape and widely known, never caused Snape to face any accusations despite being a Dark Arts spell.
—No one ever jumped up to say why Professor Snape would research such a cruel spell.
—If there were no counter-spell, the power of Sectumsempra would make you bleed continuously, and the wound would simply not heal on its own.
After all, one only needed to master the counter-spell to completely negate the damage caused by Sectumsempra. When two wizards dueled, it ultimately became a test of who could gain the upper hand with their spells first. Thus, Sectumsempra became increasingly practical—after all, it was unlikely to kill the person being hit.
However, this spell was still classified as "not advanced." If Sectumsempra had no counter-spell, Dylan believed it could easily be called a minor Unforgivable Curse. Just the thought of bleeding someone to death sounds truly wicked.
Soon, the paper-white color returned to Lockhart's face, the floor was clean, not a drop of blood visible, and Lockhart's wound was completely smooth again. Of course, while the counter-spell could heal the injuries caused by Sectumsempra, it couldn't restore clothing. This meant...
Lockhart lay sprawled on the ground, completely uninjured. But his torn clothes couldn't hide the loose flesh on his belly; his pale body looked a bit like frozen pork just out of the freezer, or perhaps poached chicken.
Lockhart was dazed for a moment. When he suddenly felt no pain, his eyes widened, and he scrambled to his feet.
"Where's my robe?"
He looked around frantically, trying to find his pink robe, but it was nowhere in sight. Left with no choice, Lockhart had to shield his chest with his hands, then pinched his fingers, pulling up what remained of his clothing to press the torn shirt against his body, trying to cover his exposed, flabby torso.
Professor Snape glanced at him, and Lockhart's neck recoiled.
—He still didn't understand why Snape always seemed to have some animosity towards him. And what did Snape's earlier words even mean? Did Snape also want to be the Savior's father? Indeed! Humph, everyone's the same after all! Lockhart thought to himself.
Then he heard Professor Snape's voice echo throughout the entire Great Hall: "Hawkwood! How dare you severely injure a professor in a demonstration duel! You will serve detention!"
Dylan: ДO??
How is this my fault now? Professor! Didn't you allow this??? Heavens! Voldemort above! Please, come and control your manipulative subordinate who burns bridges after crossing them!
Professor Snape had even used a Sonorous Charm when he said this, making his voice reverberate through the Great Hall. Especially when he said "severely injure a professor," he added extra emphasis.
Lockhart instantly snapped back to attention, his eyes bulging. "Wait a moment!"
He clutched his body. Without his wizard's robes, he looked like a pathetic duck that had been attacked, killed, and then instantly revived. He took two shaky steps forward.
Lockhart frantically shook his head. Though it was clearly Dylan who had left him in this miserable state, he couldn't admit it. Instead, he had to try and dissuade Snape from punishing Dylan.
"He didn't severely injure me at all—I mean, Snape, Mr. Hawkwood didn't take any precautions—I was just deliberately acting that way!"
"To help the children build confidence in spell-casting, I don't mind paying a small price—I mean, in terms of my dignity."
"Of course, I believe you all should know that I wasn't defeated by Mr. Hawkwood. In fact, I could have completely stopped his spell from forming; it would have been effortless for me!"
"But a child's confidence must be built up. Otherwise, when you face a crisis, when you face enemies more powerful than yourselves, how will you be able to raise your wands and bravely confront them?"
Lockhart, holding his belly with one hand and his chest with the other, was utterly disheveled, yet he showed no sign of embarrassment. Instead, he exuded a gently serene aura.
—Dylan had to admit, Lockhart, that scoundrel, had managed to reach his current position with just one spell, and he definitely had his own particular talents. Despite having just faced being disemboweled, screaming miserably, and desperately begging for help, Lockhart could still maintain his dignity under so many watchful eyes, speak confidently, and quickly provide a relatively reasonable explanation.
—Many young wizards in the audience, who had initially been shocked, even showed expressions of understanding after hearing Lockhart's words.
So that's it!
It turns out Professor Lockhart's intentions were painstakingly good! And truly painful indeed!
At that moment, Fred and George, hidden in the crowd, secretly picked up the bright pink robe that had been discarded on the floor. They exchanged glances, golden Galleon-shaped flames reflected in their eyes, and their sly grins were more cunning than a Flobberworm's mating dance.
Facing Lockhart's incredibly stubborn mouth, Professor Snape narrowed his eyes, reminded of the half-giant's rock cakes. —That thing had almost broken his teeth!
Then, he composed himself, his lips twisting into a smile, as if pulled by an invisible string, carrying unconcealed malice.
"I didn't realize your performance just now was merely a demonstration. Excellent! It seems my intervention was unnecessary. Since this was just a misunderstanding—"
Professor Snape's voice was deep and resonant, with a chilling undertone.
While Dylan internally marveled at how Lockhart's mouth was probably tougher than a Horcrux, he also raised his wand again, his gaze falling on Lockhart's thigh—or more accurately, between his legs. Might as well have some fun blowing up a testicle. It would also help Professor Snape calm down. —No matter what, he had to side with Professor Snape.
Lockhart stood frozen on the platform. Seeing the actions of Snape and his student, he clenched his buttocks tightly. He was genuinely afraid that Snape would make him duel Dylan for another round.
—This little wizard must have grown up on growth-hormone potions!
How can he be so powerful?!
He had planned this club to make an unforgettable first impression on everyone. He had originally intended to invite Snape to duel, thinking that by defeating the renowned and supposedly talented Potions Master, his fame would skyrocket again! But after some thought, he worried that defeating Snape would humiliate the so-called famous genius, so he had instead asked all the teachers to recommend a young wizard for him to duel.
Despite all the professors unanimously recommending Hawkwood, and having seen the boy's skill in class, Lockhart still thought—how could he, Lockhart, possibly be defeated by a second-year brat? So he had readily agreed. He never expected this damn little wizard to be so merciless, using such a wicked Dark Arts spell to cut open his body and intestines! And he had even been thinking of holding back, only intending to disarm his opponent!
Lockhart, now fully recovered, hastily spoke up before Professor Snape could arrange another duel with that infuriating young wizard.
"—I believe this demonstration has been quite sufficient to build Mr. Hawkwood's confidence, wouldn't you agree? After all, he has defeated a renowned professor!"
Lockhart forced a smile, maintaining his composure, disheveled but not without grace. "Therefore, let's conclude this demonstration here. We should move on to the next stage—it's getting late, and the children need to get back to rest."
He looked at Dylan: "Mr. Hawkwood, please step down. Your performance was excellent. I hope my unreserved guidance will be of assistance to you."
"And, please gather a little closer. I will divide you all into two groups, and then we will begin our preliminary duelling training! Professor Snape, would you be willing to help me group these young ones?"
"Of course."
Seeing this, Dylan slowly stepped off the platform and went to stand by Neville.
.....
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