Chapter 103: A Second Blossom
Looking at that nauseatingly bright, perfectly white-toothed smile.
The boiling anger in Tamara's heart, the suffocating frustration from the Virtue System's forced altruism, and the sheer, unadulterated irritation at being out-stupided by Hermione and Draco finally found the perfect outlet.
'Who does this clown think he is?'she thought, her jaw tightening.'Is he even worthy of standing here and taking credit?'
Tamara's gaze instantly dropped to absolute zero.
She tilted her wand slightly. To the untrained eye, she was aiming at one of the frantic Cornish Pixies buzzing wildly near Gilderoy Lockhart's shoulder.
But the moment the polished wood slashed through the air.
"Flipendo!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Two spells tore from her lips in a single, overlapping breath, cast so fast that not even a residual spark could be tracked.
A surge of violently compressed magic completely bypassed the screeching blue Pixie and slammed mercilessly into Lockhart's chest.
Lockhart let out a high-pitched shriek. He was launched backward as if rammed by a runaway Hogwarts Express, slamming heavily into the solid oak of his own ornate desk.
His spine collided with the sharp corner of the wood with a sickening thud, and in that exact fraction of a second, the Full Body-Bind Curse took hold.
He froze instantly. In an extremely comical, limbs-splayed, and agonizingly twisted posture, he remained locked amidst the splintered wreckage of his desk, a steady stream of bright red blood dripping from his perfectly maintained nose.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom plunged into deathly silence.
Every single second-year student stared at the podium in absolute horror.
[Ding! Oh no, Host! Warning!] the system's mechanical yet sickeningly perky voice chimed in her head. [Host detected maliciously injuring a Professor! This is a severe violation of the core principle of respecting your teachers!]
[Punishment program initiated: Level 3 high-voltage electric shock! Do be a good girl next time!]
Just as Lockhart's rigid body settled into the debris, the ruthless penalty struck.
A massive surge of raw electrical current violently flooded Tamara's entire nervous system.
"Ugh..."
A desperately suppressed, breathy groan slipped from her lips.
The intense, blinding agony tore through her synapses, instantly wiping her mind blank. A wave of extreme, agonizing numbness shot straight up her spine, radiating outward and instantly stripping every ounce of strength from her legs.
She bit down hard on her lower lip, tasting copper. Her stiff, trembling fingers desperately clawed at the edge of the nearest student desk, her knuckles turning bone-white as she barely managed to support her swaying, weakened frame, fighting the humiliating urge to collapse onto the stone floor.
The intoxicating touch of dark madness and ferocity she had just savored from wantonly venting her violent magic was instantly, cruelly washed away by the overwhelming physiological torment.
Fine beads of cold sweat seeped from her pale forehead, tracing down the tense line of her jaw.
Due to the residual electricity dancing beneath her skin, her slender body continued to tremble like a leaf in a winter storm.
In those dark, abyssal eyes that usually looked down upon the entire wizarding world with absolute contempt, a thin layer of mist was forcefully squeezed out by the sheer physical pain. The corners of her eyes flushed a delicate, pitiful crimson.
Just then.
The heavy wooden door of the classroom was violently pushed open from the corridor.
Severus Snape strode in, his black robes billowing behind him like the wings of a giant bat.
He had been passing through the corridor and heard the pathetic scream.
Snape's gloomy, obsidian gaze swept through the room, cutting through the tension like a rusted knife.
He took in the absolute disaster. Books and cages scattered across the floor, immobilized Cornish Pixies hanging in mid-air, Lockhart petrified in a heap of broken wood with a bloody nose... and Tamara Riddle.
She was leaning heavily against a desk, swaying dangerously, her face ashen white, her entire body trembling, looking utterly fragile.
A microscopic hint of confusion flashed deep within Snape's eyes when he registered Tamara's miserable, exhausted state.
But his face remained an emotionless mask. He strode directly toward the wreckage and, with a sharp, dismissive wave of his wand, lifted the Petrificus Totalus.
"Professor Lockhart. You had better explain exactly what happened here," Snape demanded, his voice terrifyingly low, dripping with a dangerously suppressed anger.
Freed from the curse, Lockhart immediately burst into tears of pain. He clutched his bleeding nose with both hands, his perfectly coiffed hair a mess, and pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at Tamara in the back row.
"It was her! Snape! It was that Slytherin student of yours!"
Lockhart screamed in total exasperation, his voice cracking. "She actually attacked a Professor with a Jinx! This is an extremely heinous attempted murder! She must be expelled! Immediately!"
Hearing this hysterical accusation, before Tamara could even force her trembling lips apart to feign innocence or spin a web of lies...
"That is a complete lie!"
A furious, shrill voice suddenly echoed through the silent classroom.
Hermione Granger stood up abruptly, her bushy hair bristling, pointing at Lockhart like an infuriated little lioness defending her cub.
"Professor Snape! It wasn't like that at all!"
Hermione shouted, her tone overflowing with absolute disgust for the Defense Professor and fierce, unwavering defense for Tamara.
"It was Professor Lockhart himself who released those Pixies, but he couldn't control them at all! He even tried to lock the door and leave us trapped in the classroom while he escaped!"
Harry, standing just a few feet away, immediately jumped in. "If it weren't for Tamara and Hermione, we would all have been seriously injured by those things!"
Draco Malfoy also spoke up, refusing to be outdone by Gryffindors. "She was just trying to hit the Pixie flying right next to Professor Lockhart and accidentally missed because she was exhausted!"
Hermione turned her head, glancing at the pale, trembling, and seemingly helpless Tamara. Her voice softened, carrying a heavy layer of genuine heartache.
"Tamara clearly overextended her magic just now to freeze all the Pixies in the classroom instantly! Just look at her! Look how weak she is!"
Hermione turned her glare back to the front. "As an adult wizard, Professor Lockhart ran away to save himself, and now he is actually trying to frame a second-year student who just saved everyone's lives!"
Hearing this clear, impassioned, and utterly righteous testimony, the surrounding students immediately snapped out of their shock. They began nodding vigorously, their faces flushed with agreement.
Even Neville Longbottom mustered the courage to step forward and explain to the terrifying Potions Master.
"Yes! Hermione is right!"
"We all saw it! It was the Professor himself who wanted to run away!"
The classroom erupted into a chorus of indignant agreement.
Lockhart was entirely speechless. Seeing the dozens of young students who usually looked at him with starry-eyed admiration now glaring at him as if he were a piece of rotting garbage, his handsome face turned pale, then an ugly shade of bruised purple.
Snape listened in absolute silence.
There was no visible shift in his facial muscles, but when he slowly turned his head back to Lockhart, the sheer mockery and venomous contempt in his dark eyes practically overflowed.
"It sounds like the situation is very clear."
Snape's voice was a slow, deliberate drawl, yet exceptionally clear, cutting through the students' chatter.
"An adult wizard. Recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class. And an absolute authority on Defense Against the Dark Arts."
With every single grandiose title Snape dragged through the mud, Lockhart's expression grew increasingly horrified.
"Scared witless by a cage of Cornish Pixies. Attempting to lock underage students in a dangerous environment. And finally, having to rely on a second-year Slytherin student drastically overextending her magical core just to clean up your pathetic mess."
Snape leaned down slightly, his towering frame casting a dark shadow over the cowering Lockhart.
"And you, after being... accidentally affected by this excellent student whose magic slipped out of control due to sheer, heroic exhaustion, actually tried to use your authority to have her expelled?"
Snape's lips curled into a cruel sneer. "Lockhart, I am afraid you wouldn't dare include this particular chapter in your next autobiography, would you?"
"I... I didn't... It is a misunderstanding..." Lockhart stammered pathetically, physically shrinking back against the broken desk. Under Snape's suffocating, terrifying pressure, the fraud did not even have the courage to form a coherent argument.
Snape snorted coldly, utterly ignoring the pathetic pile of mud at his feet.
He turned around, his sweeping gaze passing over the crowd of Gryffindors and Slytherins before finally landing on Tamara.
A microscopic hint of imperceptible appreciation flashed deep within those dark, guarded eyes, though his tone remained strictly authoritative.
"Miss Riddle. Forcibly overextending your magic to protect your classmates before fully mastering high-level spells, while commendable in spirit, is an extremely reckless act."
Snape paused, letting the silence stretch.
"Five points to Slytherin."
After delivering his verdict, Snape gave Tamara one last, deep, unreadable look. Then, with a sharp flick of his black robes, he strode out of the classroom exactly as he had come, without sparing Lockhart a single backward glance.
The classroom fell into a stunned silence once again.
The agonizing aftereffects of the system's electric current finally began to fade from Tamara's muscles.
She remained leaning heavily against the wooden desk.
She kept her head bowed low, letting the curtain of her long, dark hair fall forward to completely hide the almost uncontrollable, vicious joy dancing in her eyes.
'So perfect.'
Not only did she get to beat that preening buffoon half to death, but absolutely no one even suspected she had done it on purpose.
That mudblood named Granger was simply the greatest meat shield she could have ever asked for.
And what made her feel even more deeply refreshed was Snape's performance.
'Well done, Severus.'
Tamara praised him quietly in the dark corners of her mind, thoroughly relishing Snape's undisguised favoritism and his razor-sharp tongue tearing Lockhart to shreds.
To protect the master he served, he could effortlessly whitewash a malicious, calculated attack into a heroic accident without missing a beat.
This level of blind favoritism was simply righteous.
'As expected of my most loyal servant. This innate instinct to protect his master is still so wonderfully sharp, even after more than a decade.'Tamara slowly stood up straight, her physical strength returning, while the hidden curve of her lips remained cold, arrogant, and utterly triumphant.'When I regain my full strength and conquer this world, I will surely reward you with the position of Chief Death Eater.'
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