Chapter 140: You're Snape's Favorite Student?

December brought even colder weather. The wind carried the biting chill of pine needles from the Forbidden Forest. Dylan was waiting for the 19th. That was the full moon, the time he would begin preparing for his Animagus transformation again.

However, before that, after a Potions class, students streamed out of the classroom. Professor Snape, with a grim expression, walked over to Dylan.

"Come with me."

Before Dylan could even react, Professor Snape was already a long way off, his black robes billowing, barely touching the ground. Dylan blinked, then hurried to catch up with the professor's steps, his shadow stretching long in the setting sun.

Professor Snape led him all the way to his office. Once inside, as Dylan settled, Professor Snape spun around, his black robes flaring, a cold frown on his face.

Dylan: ⊙_⊙

My dear Professor, it's just the two of us. Do you really need to be so dramatic?

"Professor, is there something you need me for?"

It was almost dinner time. A whole class of brewing had been exhausting, both mentally and physically, and his stomach was already rumbling in protest. But Dylan remained patient, looking up at Professor Snape, maintaining the respect due to a professor.

"Did you see the announcement on the bulletin board?" Professor Snape asked, arms crossed.

"Announcement?" Dylan was startled, then shook his head. "I didn't notice."

"You don't usually read the academy's announcements?" Professor Snape narrowed his eyes.

"To be frank, no, I don't," Dylan replied sincerely.

"..." Professor Snape's mouth twitched. Without further ado, he spoke directly, "You'll participate in tonight's Duelling Club."

"Hmm?" Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Duelling Club? The one the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor started?"

Professor Snape nodded slightly. "Yes."

Dylan tilted his head. "Professor, are you sure you want me to participate? If I were to duel with other students—wouldn't it look bad if I made them cry?"

(_)

Professor Snape shot Dylan a sidelong glance. After a brief silence, he continued, "You won't be duelling with the students."

"Then who?"

"You can duel directly with a professor. Lockhart, he's been loudly proclaiming that he needs an assistant—I recommended you to him."

Professor Snape paused. "McGonagall and the others also recommended you."

Dylan's eyelids twitched.

He wants me to duel Lockhart?And it's a suggestion from all the professors?They're really going to make Lockhart suffer!

Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape had previously put Dylan through a duelling assessment. After that duel, the professors undoubtedly knew his strength was almost on par with—or perhaps even surpassed—a highly skilled adult wizard.

As for Lockhart... in the past six months, the professors probably knew exactly what his level was.

So, they really want me to beat up Lockhart, don't they?

"Wait, I thought Professor Snape also participated in this club activity? And wasn't Lockhart supposed to have asked Professor Snape to be his duelling assistant?"

Dylan clicked his tongue.

What kind of beating is this?

If he thoroughly thrashed Lockhart, a student humiliating a professor—if that news got out, what would happen to his reputation?

Dylan tried to warn Professor Snape: "You know, I've recently gained a lot more insights into many spells, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor... what if I accidentally cause serious injury? That wouldn't be good, would it?"

Professor Snape's face was calm: "Don't worry, I'll be there to heal him."

(_/) Oh, alright!

With Professor Snape's assurance, Dylan finally felt relieved. Lockhart had no real skill; even a casual spell from Dylan could cripple him. He didn't want to accidentally injure Lockhart severely and then be blamed for it.

"Remember, don't hold back at all. You'll be facing the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor personally invited by Headmaster Dumbledore!"

"His methods are extensive, and his experience ruthless, something you, a student, cannot contend with. So—"

"Use every means at your disposal against him, understood?"

Dylan swallowed hard.

What did Lockhart do to anger his kind-hearted Professor Snape so much?

To drive such an honest man to be so venomous…

But… telling him to use every means?

What if he just threw fifty Avada Kedavras?

—Professor Snape, you'd better protect me then!

Of course, even without using Avada Kedavra, if he casually unleashed a couple of Sectumsempra spells,

Old Dumbledore would have to carry a freshly reborn Fawkes, begging Lockhart not to die—at least not at Hogwarts!

"I understand, Professor."

Dylan composed himself and nodded to Professor Snape, accepting the task. Regardless, Lockhart was still a professor. Since beating up Quirrell last time, he hadn't had a chance to unlock any achievements related to beating up professors. This would be a good opportunity to try.

Grrr...

Dylan's stomach rumbled at just the right moment, sounding like a Doxy chewing on a brain, echoing the faint groans of cracking ice on the Black Lake outside the window. The fireplace flames flickered, casting a shadow of Professor Snape's aquiline nose on his profile.

Seeing Dylan so readily accept his arrangement, Professor Snape finally showed a hint of satisfaction.

—A slight curve appeared at the corner of his lips.

"Come on, let's go eat. Your stomach is noisier than a troll rampaging through a corridor."

Dylan chuckled awkwardly: "It seems to have more courage than I do, urging you to go eat."

"Do you think I've wasted your time?" Professor Snape narrowed his eyes.

"No, no, not at all! Let's go to the Great Hall together, Professor, you should eat too."

Professor Snape paused, let out a soft huff, and then walked towards the door first. As he passed Dylan, he tossed back, "Still hungry? Why aren't you moving?"

"Coming right away," Dylan immediately followed.

After dinner, Dylan first returned to his dormitory to read for a while, and also entered his suitcase to check on the space's condition.

—After all, he now had a group of goblins that were a bit different from normal Goblins. He was worried that these creatures, who seemed to be distant relatives of Goblins but were far less intelligent, would cause some trouble or chaos for him.

The last time, he had caught them a few times trying to harm the few small animals in the forest.

He had taught them a severe lesson with the Cruciatus Curse.

They were much more well-behaved now.

Around eight o'clock,

Dylan left his dormitory and headed to the Great Hall again.

As he entered, Dylan thought he had walked into the wrong place.

The entire Great Hall's decor had changed.

Above, hundreds of candles emitted a blinding light, dazzling yet exuding an indescribable gaudiness. And that light only illuminated the upper area, making the rest of the Great Hall appear somewhat dim.

At the same time, the four long house tables were gone again. In their place was a narrow, but much smaller, platform. Unlike the large, elevated stage Professor Snape and the others had prepared before, this looked like a fashion runway, but only an "I" shape, not a "T".

The platform even seemed to be gilded, with intricate and exaggerated patterns on the dark gold stage, looking flashy and quite tacky.

At this moment, many people had already gathered around the long platform, students from all houses, and quite a large number of them. After all, Lockhart was famous; no matter how incompetent he had appeared in the academy recently, there would always be some book fans who supported him.

It was just unclear whether most of the people watching now were there to support him or to witness his humiliation.

"Duelling Club! Sounds so cool!"

"Practical magic duels, absolutely no ambiguity in style!" "Hahahaha, you're actually betting on it?"

"Just being polite, I just said it casually."

"Hogwarts is only having a Duelling Club for the first time; I heard Professor Lockhart is in charge!"

"Could it be that Professor Lockhart has had enough of the rumors circulating around the school and has decided to personally prove his abilities?"

"Possibly! I guess so too! After all, that's Lockhart! Lockhart, who walked with a troll!"

Dylan moved through the crowd, overhearing many student discussions.

Just then, Lockhart dramatically stepped onto the long platform amidst a burst of cheers. Dylan looked up, his eyes nearly burning from the sight. Lockhart was wearing a vibrant, hot-pink velvet robe that looked like it had just been pulled from the sun. The robe was embroidered with large, golden floral clusters, each almost the size of a hand.

"Is that actually appealing?"

Also, why is Lockhart's fashion sense getting bolder and more bizarre?

He was decked out like a… well, Dylan shivered.

Looking at Lockhart's signature smile, Dylan felt an urge to just walk up and slap him a few times.

"Everyone, gather 'round—come closer!"

Lockhart dramatically flung his robe, hitting a student nearby squarely in the face, causing the student's eyes to roll back and almost making him faint.

"Pleh! Pleh! Pleh! It smells like a hundred perfumes on this thing, I'm practically suffocating!"

The student tossed Lockhart's robe onto the ground. However, Lockhart was too caught up in himself to notice. Or rather, even if he did, he'd probably just assume the student wanted to take his robe home as a souvenir.

"I must inform you all, to prevent Hogwarts students from being helpless in dangerous situations, allowing cowardice to consume you!"

"—Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to establish this Duelling Club, to ensure that one day you can confidently protect yourselves, just like me!"

"—To learn more details, simply read my published works. Every single one is sure to move you!"

Lockhart put his hands on his hips. "Before we begin, allow me to introduce my assistant—Professor Snape."

"And, he graciously recommended his prize pupil—almost every professor has said so, but that's not important, the point is—Mr. Dylan Hawkwood! Please come up!"

Lockhart's voice rang through the Great Hall, and the gold dust from his shirt cuffs sprinkled down in the candlelight. This caused a Hufflepuff student to suddenly start sneezing—Achoo!

Dylan paused, then walked towards the stage. The gazes of the surrounding students fell upon him.

"Oh, Mr. Hawkwood, don't be nervous, I won't hurt you."

Lockhart beckoned to Dylan. He saw Dylan's gaze drifting and, thinking he was scared, smiled warmly.

In reality, Dylan was discreetly glancing at Professor Snape's expression at the other end of the platform. Lockhart actually called him Professor Snape's prize pupil?

What would the Slytherins think?

However, Professor Snape seemed to have no objection to this title. He simply sat there with a flat expression, his gaze not even falling on Dylan. His chin just seemed to be raised ever so slightly.

Truly, only a tiny bit.

"Come, child, come over here."

After Dylan stepped onto the stage, Lockhart quickly pulled him closer, then turned and announced to the surrounding students:

"Mr. Hawkwood will return to you safely. I'm merely inviting him to provide a demonstration—a simple demonstration."

Below, Harry, Hermione, and the others had pushed their way through the crowd. Seeing Dylan and Lockhart as the first pair on stage for the newly founded and launched Duelling Club, all three were somewhat bewildered.

"Huh? Are they going to duel? Is he crazy? How dare he?"

Ron's voice was a bit loud and close to the viewing area. Lockhart heard it, turned around, and smiled at Ron, saying, "I told you, don't worry, your friend will be perfectly fine."

Nonsense!

Ron's eyes widened.

Was I talking about Dylan?!

He opened his mouth, but Lockhart had already turned back, gripping Dylan's shoulder tightly, with considerable force, then patted it twice and abruptly pushed Dylan forward.

"Go on, stand over there. I heard Professor Snape say you understand duelling etiquette."

Dylan felt the force on his shoulder, took a step back, and frowned slightly. However, he said nothing, instead taking his place opposite Lockhart.

Both gripped their wands, held them horizontally across their chests, and bowed slightly.

Dylan simply performed a standard wizarding duelling bow, quick and precise. Lockhart, on the other hand, held his wand with both hands as if under a Confundus Charm, making many elaborate flourishes before finally bending at the waist.

"Indeed, this is the duelling bow, just as simple as you see it—"

As Lockhart straightened up, he looked at the surrounding students.

"Next, I will count to three. At that moment, Mr. Hawkwood and I will simultaneously cast a spell—rest assured, I will not cast a spell that could take a troll's life on Mr. Hawkwood."

"And you, Mr. Hawkwood, do not hold back. Feel free to cast any spell you wish upon me!"

Upon hearing this, Dylan silently raised his wand.

Lockhart also slowly raised his wand.

"Three—two—one!"

Dylan tapped his wand lightly.

"Sectumsempra!"

—In fact, Dylan didn't even need to raise his wand or utter the incantation. His proficiency with Sectumsempra was already so high that he could cast it nonverbally. However, Dylan worried that if he didn't vocalize the spell, Lockhart wouldn't understand what spell had attacked him, so he still uttered the incantation.

The moment his voice fell,

the void twisted, and an indistinct, blurry streak tore directly through space, vibrating the air, and shot forth.

"Puff—!"

Lockhart's body suddenly erupted in a large spray of blood.

Students in the front rows immediately caught the scent of iron, reminding many of the bloody experience of processing salamanders in Potions class that afternoon, under Professor Snape's instruction.

Looking at Lockhart, a horrifying long gash extended sharply from his left shoulder to his right waist. The invisible blade instantly shredded his pristine white shirt, and torn scraps of fabric churned out with the freely flowing crimson blood.

—The splattered blood somewhat resembled the raspberry jam from the Halloween feast, giving off an equally sickeningly sweet impression.

Dylan was a bit surprised.

Why did this guy's blood have such a cloying smell?

But before he could ponder it further, a piercing scream followed.

"Ah!"

Lockhart's body went limp, he crumpled to his knees with a thud, and then collapsed to the ground. He tried to raise his wand to heal himself, but the pain made his body convulse.

Lockhart's already shaky will completely buckled under the pain of his injury.

In truth, Dylan hadn't genuinely gone all out. The moment Sectumsempra hit Lockhart, he had dispersed the spell. This meant that while the gash on Lockhart's body looked gruesome and terrifying, it hadn't actually caused much damage; it just made him bleed a tiny bit more.

—He didn't even injure the bone; he must have gone easy enough, right?

Dylan didn't want to deliberately hold back, but he didn't want to use Sectumsempra, split Lockhart in half, and then have Dumbledore bring Fawkes over only for him to be beyond saving, leading to Dylan being called into the headmaster's office.

—He wasn't ready for the "tough love" from past headmasters just yet.

Clearly, Professor Snape knew this as well. The gash on Lockhart's body could be easily healed with a counter-curse. But for some reason, Lockhart just lay there, screaming continuously, clutching his wand but never waving it.

Dylan entered the crowd and overheard many students talking.

Just then, Lockhart strode onto the long platform to a burst of cheers. Dylan looked up, his eyes nearly burning from the sight. Lockhart was wearing a vibrant, hot-pink velvet robe that looked like it had just been pulled from the sun. The robe was embroidered with large, golden floral clusters, each almost the size of a hand.

"Is that actually appealing?"

Lockhart's fashion sense was getting bolder and more bizarre, becoming quite flamboyant, like... well, Dylan shivered.