Snape, hearing Harry's words, felt his organs explode with rage, his souls flying to heaven.
He aimed his wand at Harry, his teeth grinding. "How dare you! Harry James Potter! How dare you say such a thing to me!"
This oily scoundrel was furious. Harry assumed he had hit a nerve, and sneered. "If you don't want people to know, don't do it. You wear your heart on your sleeve, scoundrel. How could this one not know?"
"On my sleeve? I wrote it on my face?!" Snape snarled. "Go on, Mr. Potter. Tell me where I wrote it."
Harry snorted. "The ancients said, 'The face is born from the heart.' This Patronus is born from the heart's desire. You scoundrel summon a female... is that not wearing your 'ass-presenting' desires on your face!"
"Of all the male and female creatures in the world, you just had to summon a Doe! Did you think this one didn't know my father's Patronus was a Stag?!"
Hearing this, Snape was dumbstruck.
What is he saying?
He... he thinks I'm in love with James Potter?
He trembled violently, like a diviner shaking yarrow stalks. Only the image of Lily in his mind allowed him to suppress his rage and stop the Sectumsempra curse on his lips.
"I... love James? What nonsense are you spouting!"
Seeing him deny it, Harry sneered. "Hah! You still deny it?"
"Just tell this one: why is the Patronus a Doe? Is it not to match the Stag?"
Snape was incandescent. He couldn't say it wasn't to match the Stag (as it was), but he refused to admit it was to remember Lily.
He was speechless. Harry's continued sneering only fanned the flames.
He wanted to accuse Harry of slander and deduct points, but he couldn't announce the reason for the slander.
He was trapped, unable to speak, nearly suffocating on his own rage.
"Get! Out! Get out!"
Snape pointed his wand at the classroom door. "Sectumsempra!"
A flash of light, and the door was blasted to smithereens. Harry was shocked.
"What a powerful spell! I wonder what year that's taught."
"What year? In your dreams, Potter!" Snape seethed. "I invented that spell. You will never learn it!"
His words were venomous, but Harry felt no anger. He just clasped his hands, gave Snape a pitying look, and left.
After Harry was gone, Snape unleashed a volley of curses, destroying the dungeon classroom.
The next morning, the students went to Herbology.
Professor Sprout led them to Greenhouse Three to repot Mandrakes.
The roots looked like babies and shrieked horribly.
Sprout instructed everyone to repot them. As soon as Harry pulled his up, it wailed.
The Mandrake squirmed, but Harry's arms had the strength of a thousand jin; he would not tolerate the creature's defiance.
Ron and Hermione, seeing this, copied him. Though it took them more effort, they both succeeded.
Ron patted his arm. "Harry... muscles are great."
That afternoon, they went to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lockhart was waiting.
Seeing Harry, he gushed, "Oh! A very fine outfit! The saber and bracer, a classic retro style."
"One point to Gryffindor, for your fashion, Harry!"
Lockhart knew Harry was a rich young man. Pleasing him was worth more than selling many books.
The students were stunned. Fashion... gets points?
Harry was baffled, but clasped his hands. "Thank you for the praise, Professor."
Class began. Lockhart handed out a stack of papers—a quiz.
Harry looked at it. It was all about Lockhart's personal life.
Favorite color... favorite food... preferred shampoo...
Harry filled in random answers and turned it in.
As Lockhart was about to grade them, the cage on his desk rattled.
Malfoy asked, "Professor, what's in the cage?"
Lockhart smiled. "Eager, are we? Inside are very dangerous creatures!"
He whipped off the cover, revealing several small, blue-skinned sprites.
"That's right! Freshly caught Cornish Pixies! And they are very fiery!"
The students laughed.
"Professor," Seamus held back a smile, "they don't look very dangerous."
Malfoy flexed his arm. "I think I could handle them with one arm. Don't even need a wand."
Lockhart, annoyed, opened the cage. "Very well! If you're so confident, let's see you handle them!"
The pixies swarmed out, wreaking havoc.
Students screamed. Neville was dragged by his ears and thrown out a window.
The pixies were too fast; no spells could hit them.
Lockhart, seeing things were out of hand, fumbled for his wand. "Don't worry, children! I'm here!"
A pixie snatched his wand.
"Oh, well! Anyone willing to stay and clear them out? I'll give extra credit!"
The students were already fleeing. But Ron and Hermione looked eager.
"Harry, let me and Hermione try," Ron said, cracking his knuckles. "I trained all summer, I haven't used this yet."
Hermione nodded. "That's right. I need to test my skills, too."
Harry, seeing they were willing, grinned.
He drew his saber. "Big Sister and Brother are right! Let us practice on them today!"
Lockhart, seeing the three of them staying, was overjoyed. He ran for the door. "I knew I could count on you, Harry! Five points to Gryffindor—for your courage!"
"Oh, and Slytherin! Five points as well!"
The trio heard this, confused. They looked back and saw Malfoy, still sitting at his desk.
And so it was, the pixies wrecked the class, and Lockhart called for champions. The sworn heroes answered the call, but the points were also given to Malfoy, who sat firmly in his seat. Why did Malfoy stay? You must listen to the next chapter.
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