Hogwarts: Becoming the White Lord from Breathing

Chapter 114 Parseltongue

"Alright, everyone saw that! This is the complete wizard duel!"

Lockhart staggered back onto the stage, and Damon truly admired his audacity to still have the nerve to speak under such circumstances.
The other wizards watching the battle turned their attention to him, and this time, even Hermione couldn't quite maintain her filter.

"If I wanted to stop them, it would have been effortless. It was only because I saw through Professor Snape's intentions that I did this on purpose—and that's why you were able to witness such a spectacular wizarding duel."

Snape was in a fairly good mood. Seeing Damon also looking at Lockhart with an amused expression made him even happier, and the two of them calmly looked at Lockhart, along with the young wizards in the audience.

The whole scene became somewhat eerie.

The two who had delivered the spectacular duel seemed to have become mere spectators, the audience silently watching Lockhart's animated gestures. He was gradually losing his composure. "The demonstration is over! Now I'll come to you and divide you into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me..."

They moved through the crowd, pairing people up.

Damon walked off the stage amidst cheers, and Harry and Ron went straight to him, but Snape quickly followed.

“The Dream Team should be broken up, I think,” he said with a sneer. “Weasley, you could team up with Finnegan, Potter—”

Harry instinctively moved closer to Hermione.

But Snape's anger hadn't completely subsided. "I don't think so."

He looked at Damon, "Dare to have another round? Let your student and my student go together. You're teaching Potter's spells, aren't you?"

Malfoy stepped forward solemnly, his face showing no trace of pride; in fact, he seemed overly serious.

He didn't look at his former nemesis 'Harry,' but stared at Damon and said, word by word:

“Damon, I will prove that your efforts on Porter are a complete waste of time.”

"Let's give it a try!" Harry felt his blood rushing to his head and, without thinking of anything else, went straight for it.

"When did you take Malfoy as your student? I didn't know that."

"Dumbledore has already taken you as a student, so what's wrong with me training my own disciple?"

As the head of Slytherin, he had always liked Malfoy quite a bit—born into a pure-blood family, his parents were old acquaintances of his, and Malfoy had a trait of disregarding the lives of others—this kid was able to throw away a lot of things for his own purposes, much more ruthless than Potter.

Of course, he only spent a little extra effort on Malfoy and didn't actually take him on as a disciple. But was he going to explain all this to Damon?
Just as one grand drama ended, the 'Savior' was about to engage in a new duel with the Slytherin students, and the young wizards became excited once again.

"Harry, finish him off cleanly, you can do it!"

Ron yelled at Harry from below the stands, and the audience split into two groups, each cheering.

“To your partners!” Lockhart called out as he returned to the stage, “Bow!”

Harry and Malfoy barely nodded, their eyes fixed on each other.

"Raise your wands, get ready!" Lockhart shouted. "When I count to three, I'll cast the spell to disarm them—just disarm them—we don't want any accidents, one—two—three—"

Harry abruptly raised his wand over his shoulder, but Malfoy made his move just as he counted to "two"—he was ruthless in his pursuit of victory, regardless of whether it was honorable or not.

The spell he used was 'Petrify All,' and Harry, unable to react in time, took the hit with his left hand, managing to intercept it with a counter-spell before the magic spread throughout his body, and then rolled on the spot—Malfoy's second spell was already on its way.

"Rictusempra!"

That's a low-level curse. Malfoy isn't Snape; he doesn't care about such things and just uses whatever curses he can find on Harry. But Harry is no longer the same as before; he can't just stand there taking a beating and playing a turn-based game with you anymore.

"Immobulus!"

"Expelliarmus!"

A brilliant double spell was unleashed upon Malfoy. He only had time to clutch his wand to his chest and take the hit head-on, a lesson he had learned from Harry. At this moment, Malfoy was highly focused; he was unwilling to lose here!

But the next moment, his body was blasted away by the thick red light!

At this point, Malfoy had already lost, but the next moment he quickly grabbed his wand and stood up, his movements so swift that it seemed the duel was far from over.

Harry watched Malfoy cautiously, not in a hurry to give chase—he didn't know exactly what the situation was.

Snape looked at Potter, whose demeanor had changed drastically, and on a whim, he approached Malfoy and whispered a few words in his ear.

Malfoy began to sneer.

He quickly raised his wand and roared:
"Serpensortia!"

A long black snake shot out from the tip of his wand, landed heavily on the floor between them, and then raised its head, ready to attack.

The crowd screamed and quickly backed away to make way, even more panicked than when the python had appeared before—this time, Damon's protection on the dueling platform was gone.

Snape had assumed Harry would be scared, since not everyone was like Damon, that freak—unmoved by the sight of a python.

However, Harry's hand was tightly gripping his wand, his eyes filled with determination—almost the instant Snape saw that look, he was mesmerized. How could that look be so much like Lily's angry expression?

"Don't be afraid, Potter, let me do it!"

Lockhart suddenly emerged from behind, raised his wand, and waved it threateningly at the snake!

Suddenly, there was a loud "bang," and the snake not only did not disappear, but leaped more than ten feet into the air before crashing back onto the floor—this had clearly angered it.

Enraged, it hissed and swam straight toward the edge of the dueling platform!

Then, it raised its head, bared its fangs, and assumed an attack stance, causing the nearest young wizard, Justin Finley, to look terrified.

Damon had already drawn his wand, but Harry had no time to pay attention to that. In the critical situation, his body sprang to life on its own—before he even became conscious.

"Let him go!"

He shouted at the snake like an idiot.

Then, a miracle happened.

The snake lay sprawled on the floor, as supple as a bunch of thick, black rubber hoses, its eyes fixed on Harry.

Harry felt his fear gradually disappear—he knew the snake wouldn't attack anyone anymore, though he couldn't explain how he knew.

He looked up at Justin, expecting gratitude, but found the other man's expression had become even more unpleasant.

Harry Potter is a Parseltongue.

(End of this chapter)