After class, he was the first to walk out of the classroom and stretch. Hermione was still at her desk, catching up on some notes and insights from the practical session. Hermione's notes were always extensive, dense, and neatly written.
Completely different from his.
"Oh, the savior is still waiting for the little mudblood." Harry suddenly heard a voice and turned his head.
It was three Slytherin boys, not Draco's group. One of them deliberately spoke in a mocking tone, "Oh~ a Potion for lunch~"
"Hey, quiet down, he might hear you."
"He can understand what mudblood means? Don't joke, I heard he lives in the Muggle world."
"Who cares? Professor Snape clearly dislikes him, always finding fault with him, and even in Potion Class, he doesn't assign him Slytherin teammates. He puts him in a group with Gryffindor people… "
Harry's face immediately darkened. Just then, Hermione finished packing her things and walked out.
"Let's go, time for lunch. Did you say you wanted to bring Hagrid some dessert?" Hermione said.
Harry turned his head back, "Uh… I just remembered I need to go back to the common room to get something. Why don't you go to the first floor first?"
Hermione was a bit surprised, then nodded, "Alright, I'll head up first then."
With that, Hermione turned around and left along the underground corridor.
Harry also walked in the direction the three boys had left…
"I'm serious, I think he's really putting on an act. I heard he wakes up early every day, goes for a run, then comes back to pick out clothes, and even combs his hair!"
"He's always alone, acting like he looks down on everyone. There are plenty of Slytherins with prominent family backgrounds, and none of them are as pretentious as him!"
Suddenly, a hand landed on the boy's shoulder. He turned his head and saw a face that shouldn't have been there at that moment.
"Oh, Mr. savior?!" The boy had brown hair and some freckles on his face. He looked at Harry with annoyance, "Is there something you need?"
The two people beside him also moved closer.
"Of course there is." Harry nodded, "I just heard some unpleasant words, so I hope you can apologize."
"Did I say anything?" The person spread his hands, like a street rogue, grinning and looking at his friends beside him, "I didn't say anything about what happened to our savior, did I?"
There weren't many people coming and going in the underground corridor. It was just after class, and almost everyone here was from Slytherin. They slowed their steps, tacitly making space.
"You cursed my friend," Harry said.
"There aren't many things I value, but friends and dignity are among them.
You cursed my friend in front of me, which is hurting my dignity."
"So what?"
"So—"
With that, Harry suddenly raised his hand and threw a punch.
Blood splattered, and the person stumbled backward repeatedly. However, he was much tougher than the previous Crabbe. He supported himself by gripping the shoulders of his two friends and charged at Harry.
Harry's fake wand suddenly appeared in his hand, pointing at the guy's leg.
"Leg-Locker Curse—"
In an instant, his two legs seemed to be bound together by invisible ropes, forcing them to close. Driven by inertia, he fell heavily forward.
Making intimate contact with the ground.
At the same time, the other two also pounced. Harry didn't really want to cast spells; he felt that even if Klee were here, he could knock these guys down with a few punches and kicks.
Thinking this, he quickly threw punches, easily knocking down the other two. However, he also got into a lot of trouble himself; his clothes were somewhat disheveled, and his hair was messy.
"Harry Potter, don't think that just because you have a big name, you can do whatever you want! Don't go too far!!" Two third-years stepped out and roared at Harry.
Harry straightened his back, looking directly at them without fear, and ran a hand through his hair, tidying it up again.
"Then come on!"
His voice wasn't loud, but it truly exploded in everyone's ears.
This was a small trick taught to him by the spell-casting Viking Warriors in the Viking village: putting magic on his vocal cords to produce a battle cry that could intimidate people.
"Lax-Jinx!"
Suddenly, a spell accurately crossed the crowd of onlookers and landed in the center of the battlefield, followed by heavy footsteps from behind the crowd.
Snape pushed through the crowd, his face as black as coal.
"Harry Potter, just as I expected, just like your father!"
"Why bring up my father, Professor?" Harry heard this and turned to look at Snape:
"Shouldn't you first ask what happened?"
"I don't need to ask you!" Snape roared at Harry, then scanned the crowd: "Someone, explain to me the cause and effect of what happened here!"
The outcome was obvious.
Harry also looked around, saying coldly, "I need a truly proud person, someone who disdains lying!"
"Potter, shut up!" Snape placed a hand on his shoulder, his anger reaching its peak.
A girl could no longer bear the icy atmosphere. She was only eleven, and this was the first time in her life she had seen blood, and in such a violent way.
"Pro… Professor, it was Field and them. They called Potter's friend a mudblood, the girl from Gryffindor. That's why Potter confronted them and demanded an apology… and then… then this happened."
mudblood?
Snape's eyes suddenly lost focus, and his face turned pale.
Harry felt Snape's hand on his shoulder suddenly increase its grip at that moment.
What did this mean? Expressing dissatisfaction?
Perhaps, in his view, it was excessive and unnecessary to beat up someone from his own house like this just for cursing someone from another house.
However, Harry felt it was very necessary!
So he said, neither humble nor arrogant, "Yes, Professor! They called my friend a mudblood, and for that, I beat them up like this."
After speaking, he looked around, "I know, no one in this world is free from being talked about behind their back. I understand all your gossip!
But the premise is—don't let me hear it."
After speaking, he slightly averted his gaze and saw Snape clutching his wand, his knuckles white and trembling.
"Professor, I am willing to accept any school punishment, but I must state my position. This has nothing to do with which house I'm in!"
However, what he didn't expect was that Snape abruptly flung him away, swiftly moving through the crowd and departing quickly, even faster than when he arrived.
"Send them to the infirmary, what are you standing around for!! Potter, you wait for your detention!!"
With that, he quickly departed. His long robes swirled through the entire corridor, and anyone who saw him quickly pressed themselves against the wall, not daring to cross him.
Hurrying back to the office adjacent to the Potion Professor's, Snape slammed the door shut, his body leaning against the massive office door as if utterly drained.
After a long while of continuous panting, he staggered towards his desk.
Before his eyes, Harry's appearance from moments ago kept flashing back:
That face, which brought instant disgust upon sight;
Those emerald green eyes;
The fluent answers in Potion Class…
In his ears, Harry's young yet stubborn voice echoed continuously:
"He called my friend a mudblood, and for that, I beat him up like this!"
"Professor, I'm willing to accept the punishment, but I must state my attitude!"
The Gryffindor girl…
The Slytherin boy…
Snape leaned weakly on the desk, his eyes bloodshot, his face contorted.
Bang—
With a loud crash, thick smoke rose. The entire desk suddenly exploded due to immense, chaotic magical power!
In the dusty shadows, his perpetually flowing black robes lay on the ground, his figure like a hunched old man who had lost his cane…
Gaunt, weak, powerless…