Sharp potion scent filled his lungs.
Gilderoy Lockhart slowly opened his eyes. Vision blurry, like looking through mist.
As consciousness returned, the figures beside him became clearer. He moved his fingers slightly. Felt long-lost vitality.
"Severus?"
Snape, standing by the bed, turned. Disgust and impatience flashed in his gloomy eyes.
"Call me Professor Snape."
"If you can move, drink this."
With characteristic coldness, Snape casually tossed down a bottle.
The slightly warm potion landed on the bed, rolling until it touched Lockhart's fingertips.
Lockhart grabbed it. Struggled to pull out the cork. Sharp, unpleasant smell rushed into his nostrils.
"Oh, bruise removal paste."
He instinctively started showing off:
"Actually, I can brew this too. Quite good at it. You know, back in the mountains..."
Snape hadn't wanted to say a word.
But when it came to his expertise, he couldn't help glaring. Muttered through gritted teeth:
"This is Calming Draught."
"Your injuries aren't just external..."
Lockhart froze mid-gulp. Quickly changed his tune with an embarrassed laugh:
"Oh, of course."
"I could tell immediately."
"What I meant was..."
Snape had no interest in his babbling.
His cold, penetrating gaze darkened. Bone-chilling coldness spread.
The moment Lockhart saw those eyes, his chatter stopped dead.
As a famous author, he kept well-informed. He knew exactly what kind of person Snape was.
"Professor Lockhart."
The voice seemed to emerge from deep in his throat, carrying indescribable pressure. Lockhart instinctively shrank into his blankets.
"Can you remember what happened before you lost consciousness? I need to complete your examination."
"Oh, of course."
Lockhart answered without thinking: "Just an accident, I..."
Halfway through, he stopped. Confusion crept into his forced confidence.
"I..."
He struggled to remember, but his memories were fragmented. Impossible to piece together.
Snape watched him quietly, analyzing based on the patient's condition.
After a long moment, Lockhart whispered uncertainly:
"I think I said something."
"What?"
Snape raised an eyebrow.
The Slytherin students who'd brought Lockhart to the Hospital Wing hadn't said much. Dumped him on the bed and fled.
Fortunately, the injuries were obvious.
Besides facial and skull fractures, clear fluid leaked from his collapsed nasal cavity. Most of his teeth were missing.
Madam Pomfrey had quickly begun treatment.
She'd even sent house-elves to the headmaster's office for phoenix tears and had Snape brew potions.
Honestly, if Pomfrey had been ten minutes later, Hogwarts' Defense curse might have set a new record...
So Snape was curious what exactly had happened.
Since he'd been brewing potions the whole time, he hadn't questioned the students yet.
Lockhart frowned and muttered:
"I said I'm Polly's boyfriend..."
"Polly?!"
Hearing that familiar name, Snape's eye twitched.
The shell casings and green light in the headmaster's office were still vivid. Though satisfying to witness, troublesome enough.
In all these years, besides Voldemort, this was the first time he'd felt genuine admiration for someone else.
"Oh, yes..."
Due to the potion's effects, Lockhart's speech slowed, but he kept trying to remember.
"I think I..."
"Forgot to say 'ex'..."
Snape's mouth twitched.
He knew perfectly well this had nothing to do with "ex."
"Alright, Professor Lockhart."
He interrupted Lockhart's thoughts, his deep voice carrying cold laughter.
"You can rest now."
"I need to brew several more potions for that incomplete brain of yours..." Snape turned toward the exit.
At the doorway, he suddenly stopped. Looked back at the drowsy Lockhart.
"One last piece of advice."
"During your tenure, never mention your nauseating romantic history. Remember your duties."
"If you don't want to die..."
His voice faded as his black robes disappeared. Lockhart fell asleep.
Dinnertime.
Tiger walked into the Great Hall, cursing under his breath.
Starving, he sat at the long table. Immediately grabbed the beef ribs. Ignored Theodore and the others' helpless looks.
"Father..."
Draco quietly moved closer:
"Did that old bastard Dumbledore attack you? I can tell my father, let my father..."
"No."
Tiger swallowed his steak. Let out a long burp.
Under Theodore's gaze, he tossed the bone aside. Grabbed Draco's robes to wipe his hands. Then picked up his knife and fork to cut another piece methodically.
"Damn it, that old man lectured me all afternoon. My head's splitting..."
"I'd rather he just fought me!"
His fierce eyes overflowed with irritation.
The plate cracked with a "snap" from his knife. Theodore helplessly grabbed a new plate to replace it.
Sensing Father's irritation, Draco wisely didn't continue asking. After casting a cleaning charm on himself, he left with Crabbe and Goyle.
Dumbledore didn't care about Lockhart's injuries. He cared about what reflection students could gain from a bad teacher.
But now Lockhart was nearly dead before he'd even gone bad. That wouldn't do.
This was teaching material he'd worked hard to find.
Couldn't be used for just one day.
So he'd talked with Tiger all afternoon, purely for the teaching material's integrity.
As for what happened to the material after the school year ended—that wasn't his concern.
As a condition for Tiger calming down, Venom had absorbed half of Dumbledore's magical power.
Fully recovered, Venom had run straight to the Slytherin common room after leaving the headmaster's office. Threw a reunion party with the little snakes...
Thunderous bass shook the dance room.
Venom wore its glow sticks, roaring wildly amid the little snakes' screams.
Deafening sound waves hit them. Hair stood on end. But this wasn't fear—adrenaline spiked as the music's surging power rushed to their skulls.
Crazy screams rose and fell...
Tiger returned to the common room then. Satisfaction from meat dispelled his irritation completely.
Sitting at the bar, he accepted the lemon ice water Raven Bock handed him. Flipped through wizard magazines he'd missed during the holidays.
A moment later, his leisurely gaze froze.
"From Traditional to Modern, From Dueling to Combat: The Evolution and Innovation of New Sword-Wand Fighting Techniques."
Author: Filius Flitwick
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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