Accompanied by Professor Snape's icy incantation, the suit of armour Harry had earlier hoisted into the air suddenly bloomed with ghastly gashes.
It was as if invisible blades were shuttling back and forth across the armour.
One could easily imagine what it would look like if it were human flesh.
Harry's face went abruptly pale.
He had heard in class about the horrors of Dark Magic, but only by witnessing it did he understand how extreme the Curses branded as Dark truly were.
Even the "fairly mild" Sectumsempra in Snape's words was enough to cause grievous harm.
For a moment, Harry hesitated over whether he should learn this spell at all.
Honestly, he felt disarming people and the like suited him better.
Just then, Snape was also watching Harry.
Seeing Harry's obvious wavering, a deep, bitter look swept slowly through Snape's eyes.
Lily's child, indeed—so alike; the same resistance to Dark Magic.
Recalling how Dark Magic had driven Lily and him further apart, Snape clenched his hand, remorse surging, and said coldly to Harry:
"If you don't want to learn it, then don't."
"Dark Magic is used by Dark wizards—scum and dregs. Do not keep company with them."
"Potter, your choice is the right one."
"That's enough. Your detention is over for today…"
But just as Snape, vexed, meant to drive away the irritating sight before him and return to his little office to "keep vigil" by Lily's photograph, Harry seemed to come to a decision and aimed his wand at the armour.
"Sectumsempra!"
A faint, shallow cut appeared upon the metal.
Snape blinked. Harry looked at him with trusting eyes.
"Professor, you were my mother's friend. I don't know exactly what happened in the past, but I believe that even if you know Dark Magic, and even if you're Head of Slytherin, and even if you've been docking points from Gryffindor for no reason, and even if you don't wash your hair…"
As Snape's expression grew darker, Harry broke into a grin.
"I still think you're a good man I can trust."
"I'll practise Sectumsempra properly, Professor."
The corner of Snape's mouth twitched into an almost imperceptible arc.
Harry then asked, a touch nervously and earnestly:
"Professor, could you teach Levicorpus and Sectumsempra to Theo as well? He's my best friend."
Snape frowned, cut a glance at Theodore Ashbourne, and let out a cold little laugh.
"When I taught you just now, Potter, I didn't exactly lower my voice."
"So I suspect you needn't worry about your friend. With Theodore Ashbourne's talent, I dare say listening once was enough."
Theo, who had been processing potion ingredients, raised his head calmly and nodded to Snape and Harry.
"That's right. I've already learnt Levicorpus and Sectumsempra."
The next moment, Theo gave his wand a light flick.
"Levicorpus."
"Sectumsempra."
The unfortunate armour shot up towards the ceiling and, a second later, was sliced to pieces by invisible blades, clattering down in eight parts.
A flicker of surprise crossed Snape's eyes despite himself.
He had expected Ashbourne's command of incantations to be quick.
A prodigy who could master Transfiguration to that degree in first year learning two spells swiftly was only to be expected.
But the force of the magic did not seem like a first-year's at all.
Even Harry's magical power appeared to fall a little short of Ashbourne's?
Snape strode over to Theo, his keen gaze raking across the ingredients for the Colour-Changing Potion that Theo was preparing, and fell silent again.
Those ingredients were not common; they did not appear until at least O.W.L.-level texts, and their handling was notoriously finicky.
When Snape asked Theo to process them, he had steeled himself for near-total loss.
If even one or two items were salvaged to usability, he would concede Ashbourne was promising at Potions—worth a little cultivation, for Harry's sake.
But what lay before Snape now was work more perfect than the textbook standard, without the slightest misstep.
Even Snape himself could not have done better.
His brow furrowed tightly. Slowly, a guarded, hostile light rose in his eyes as he looked at Theo.
His fingers closed around his wand; he shifted his stance without a sound, placing his body between Ashbourne and Harry.
It was not jealousy at the boy's talent—Severus Snape, Potions Master, had his pride and was not so small.
What truly put him on guard was what Dumbledore had confided: the moment Harry Potter set foot in Hogwarts, the gears of fate might begin to turn, and that man's return might draw near.
It was even possible that the Dark Lord had attached himself to someone within Hogwarts' walls!
And Ashbourne's display forced the dreadful suspicion to the fore: perhaps the one driving this body now… was Voldemort.
Then Ashbourne's deliberate closeness to Harry Potter—becoming his best friend—was chilling to contemplate.
A thread of killing intent began to churn in Snape's heart.
At that moment, Theo's brows knit. He felt the murderous pressure emanating from Snape—and even the "System" pane showed the Perfected Jade Cauldron's attitude plunging from Friendly to Hostile.
Worse, it had started dead red, sliding toward a no-quarter, mortal-enemies state.
"Professor, I think you're misunderstanding something."
Theo looked at Snape earnestly.
"I admit I'm a bit handsome, quite talented, and rather gifted at magic, but I, Theodore Ashbourne, only wish to become Hogwarts' social butterfly—friends across the world."
"Please don't get the wrong idea about me."
Snape gave a cold snort.
"With your level in Potions, so long as you procure ingredients, what is a Colour-Changing Potion to you? I daresay even the Polyjuice Potion would pose no challenge. Do you truly need my guidance?"
"You had best state your real purpose."
Theo sighed.
"You're right. The Colour-Changing Potion isn't hard for me. The Polyjuice Potion is a matter of course as well."
"What I truly need to consult a master of magic like you about is another potion."
In the next heartbeat, Theo's figure blurred and appeared at Harry's side.
Before Harry could process how the atmosphere had turned so dire, Theo tapped him lightly at the neck and sent him limp to the floor.
Snape roared, incandescent with fury.
"Leave him!"
"Sectumsempra!"
Fuelled by rage, the curse that flew at Theo was far stronger than the demonstration earlier.
Theo drew a long breath; his hair whipped in a sudden gale; a holy golden radiance mantled his body.
Sectumsempra, then? A truly vicious Dark curse.
But after obtaining Adamantine Body, Unclouded Mind, and with the Earth-Spirit Primordial Soul plus the newly acquired Night's Demon talent, Theo's resistance to magic had reached an unbelievable level.
He raised a hand and met the invisible slashes head-on.
Blades that could shear steel burst like bubbles against the golden light veiling Theo's body!
Even with all his battle-worn experience, Snape's worldview cracked at the seams.
Tank Sectumsempra with flesh?
Even a dragon lacked such magic resistance!
Theodore Ashbourne—what kind of monster was he?!
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