As we were saying, Fred claimed Draco had a new nickname, leaving Ron and Hermione burning with curiosity.
Draco had first been scared witless by the Dementor, then hit by Harry's curse, which made his "butt-cheeks bloom with blood" (腚绽血花, dìng zhàn xuè huā).
The nickname must be foul.
Ron took a sip of his potion, settling his organs. "Is it 'Blood-Arse Malfoy'?"
"That's too vulgar," Hermione mused. "I think 'Flower-on-the-Butt' (腚上花, dìng shàng huā) is more appropriate."
Fred shook his head, grinning. "Nope. His nickname is..."
"Backyard Flower!" (后庭花, hòu tíng huā)
(This name was a perfect storm: Hermione had fiercely mocked Draco, calling him a "kindred brother" to the Dementor. Then, his arse literally bloomed a "blood flower" from the curse. The two events combined to create this... fitting... title.)
Fred explained the origin of the name, and Ron laughed so hard he couldn't breathe, coughing up blood spatters.
"Cough! Cough! Who came up with that? They're a genius!"
Fred and George puffed out their chests. "Who else but your two brilliant brothers?"
Ron wiped his mouth. "I have to help you spread this name all over the school."
"Oh, we don't need the help," the twins cackled. "We just told Peeves."
Hermione was laughing, too, until the color suddenly drained from her face.
"Wait! Does the whole school know about Harry controlling the Dementor?!"
Malfoy was a filthy idiot, but he hadn't been wrong about that.
"Oh, that? Professor Dumbledore already came to the hall and explained it," George reassured her. "He said the Dementor was an 'educational tool' approved by the Ministry, just temporarily loaned to Harry for research."
He pointed to the Slytherin table. "That lot was hoping to use this to get Harry sent to Azkaban."
Hermione's heart dropped back into her stomach. She smiled, and the group feasted.
That night's banquet, for the three houses of Lion, Badger, and Eagle, was a roaring celebration. It was as loud and joyful as Christmas.
Only the Slytherin table was covered in a gloomy fog, as if they were mourning.
Just as the feast was peaking, the doors creaked open. It was Draco, returned from the hospital wing.
He tried to look strong, ignoring the pain in his arse. Seeing a thousand eyes on him, he snapped, "What are you looking at?"
"Hey! Mr. Backyard Flower!" Fred leaped up. "Are you back from your date with the Dementor?"
George cupped his hands. "Did it give you a goodbye kiss?"
The Hall exploded.
The laughter shook the candles. Even Percy spat out his pumpkin juice.
Draco, hearing "Dementor" and "Backyard Flower," knew his humiliation was complete. He saw Harry laughing his head off and assumed this was all Harry's doing.
A black rage shot to his head. He clenched his fists so hard his nails drew blood.
That... damned... scar-head!
I never should have refused when Tom offered to teach me the Killing Curse!
...We'll leave Draco seething.
Harry's fame had exploded. Draco, Lockhart, and the other schemers were now silent, not daring to provoke the "tiger" again.
Hogwarts was quiet, but Dumbledore was still hunting the Basilisk. He had Hagrid place roosters everywhere. McGonagall transfigured statues into "magic roosters" that would crow at the sight of a snake.
Annoyed, the Slytherins started using Parseltongue just to set them off. The castle was filled with crowing, day and night, until Snape docked Slytherin fifty points.
But, the Basilisk was never found.
Harry, frustrated he couldn't use the Chamber of Secrets, was dying for the Polyjuice Potion to be ready so he could expose Draco.
Detention time finally came. (Draco had dodged it, claiming his "butt wound" had "reopened." Harry had dodged too, "pricking his finger." Snape finally forced them.)
That evening, Harry arrived at the dungeon classroom. Before he opened the door, he heard two voices inside.
Draco... and Lockhart.
"Draco, good boy, a little faster."
"Professor, can I rest? I really can't take it..."
"Oh, my dear Draco, this is detention. And I'm not idle, either. My mouth is getting sore..."
Harry froze. He was horrified.
Mother of thieves! Is this a magic school or a brothel?!
Snape was one thing, but these two as well?!
He drew his wand and kicked the door open.
He saw... Draco, hunched over a desk, furiously copying letters. Lockhart was sitting on the desk, kissing the envelopes, one by one, to seal them with his lipstick.
They both jumped.
Lockhart stammered, "Ah... good evening, Harry. Mr. Malfoy is just helping me with my fan mail—they're so enthusiastic..."
Harry's sharp gaze swept over them. Seeing their clothes were in order, he believed it.
"Is this one to copy those damn letters tonight, too?"
"Of course not. Your detention is in another classroom."
Harry knew that oily voice. Snape.
"Why is this one separated from that scum?"
"You'll have to ask Professor Lockhart why he insisted on this 'chore'," Snape snapped. "Let's go."
Harry, suspicious, filed the "grudge" away and left.
Draco let out a huge breath, his back soaked in sweat. Thank god I pulled some strings. That scar-head really was going to come after me!
(Draco, terrified of Harry, had used his family's influence to get the fame-hungry Lockhart to supervise his detention, just to have a "bodyguard.")
Just wait, Scar-head, Draco thought, returning to the letters. We're not finished!
Harry followed Snape to another classroom.
Snape locked the door. "From today, you will learn Occlumency."
Harry thought: Strange. He said detention, but he's teaching me magic in secret. Is this from Professor Dumbledore?
Snape seemed to read his mind. "Put aside your delusions, Potter. This is not a reward."
"In fact, I was the one who requested to teach you Occlumency during this time."
His eyes glinted. "Now, clear your weed-filled mind of all thought. I don't want to see your filthy, obscene ideas."
Before Harry could ask how, Snape stared into his eyes and yelled:
"Legilimens!"
Snape, intending to humiliate him, deliberately searched for memories of women.
Instantly, a scene flashed: a beautiful woman in white robes, kneeling and begging.
"Brother Harry, spare your sister-in-law!"
"Give me back my brother's life!"
Harry felt his skull split open. He instinctively drew his knife (刀, dāo) and slashed. Snape leaped back, breaking the spell.
Harry panted. That spell is vile! Invisible, intangible, it strikes the very soul!
...Still, he thought, learning Legilimency would be more fun than this 'Occlumency' trash.
Snape frowned. "Who was that woman? What language was that?"
"Heh! My family affairs are none of your business!"
"That's fine, Mr. Potter," Snape said slowly. "If you won't tell me, I can just look for myself."
"But this time, defend yourself with your mind only. The Dark Lord won't give you a chance to use your knife."
"Legilimens!"
Harry focused, reciting a sutra in his mind.
All that has form is illusory; if one sees that all forms are not forms, one sees the Tathagata...
(Readers, Harry was reciting the Vajra Sutra, taught to him by the Flower Monk, Lu Zhishen. He had studied it day and night. The moment he began, his mind was back at the Xiangguo Temple, sitting with his Brother Zhishen, all noise and thought gone.)
Snape felt immense resistance. He couldn't see clearly.
He got the hang of it on the second try?!
Snape, furious, pushed with all his power.
He broke through for a second, seeing another stunning beauty, bowing.
"This humble one, Li Shishi, greets the young master. Where is the official you spoke of?"
SLAP!
Harry clapped his hands together, the sound like a judge's gavel, and broke the connection.
Snape sneered. "You certainly have a lot of women in your head, Mr. Potter."
Harry sneered back. "You don't even like women. What does my business have to do with you?"
Snape hated that jibe. "James should have put 'respect professors' in his will!"
Harry exploded. "You are not worthy to speak of my father!"
"I've said it before, your father was a nobody! He didn't even have the courage to look me in the eye!"
"Heh! Who dares look you in the eye? Didn't Malfoy need a chaperone for detention? He must be afraid you'd 'covet his Backyard Flower's reputation' and 'lose control' when no one was looking, making him bloom!"
Snape's hair practically stood on end. He was trembling with rage.
"LEGILIMENS!"
"PROTEGO!"
Readers, the Shield Charm (铁甲咒, tiějiǎ zhòu - lit. "Iron Armor Charm") can not only protect the body, it can repel mental attacks.
Snape, enraged by Harry's words, was careless. The spell hit the Protego and rebounded, allowing Harry to see into his mind.
Harry focused, looking for the connection between Snape and his father.
Snape tried desperately to block the memory of James Potter humiliating him with Levicorpus.
Too late. Harry saw it—but not the others. He just saw a young Snape, collapsed under a tree, pantsed, wearing only his drawers (裈裤, kūn kù - ancient briefs/loincloth).
"You bastards—Don't touch me!"
"Get away!"
A blink, and Harry was back in the dungeon.
Snape advanced, his face ashen. "You dare use my own spells against me?!"
"WHAT DID YOU SEE?"
Harry didn't answer. He was just thinking...
What kind of villain pantses someone for humiliation? What a pointless, "birdless" (unmanly) thing to do.
He mulled it over. A thought struck him, and he broke into a cold sweat.
...Wait. Was he already naked... and they just... put the drawers on him?
Harry couldn't stop himself. "Professor... were you raped as a child?"
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