Chapter 119: Refutation
To shift the crowd's attention away from himself as quickly as possible, Lockhart paired Harry and Draco together.
"Potter, Malfoy, come up!"
Harry and Draco stepped onto the stage, radiating hostility.
Once, their animosity might have been nothing more than the rivalry between their Houses and Malfoy's obnoxious pure blood posturing.
But now, that hostility had changed completely.
For Draco, every time he remembered Tamara shedding tears to stop Lockhart, and how she had spent three full days in the Hospital Wing because of that Scarhead, irritation surged uncontrollably in his chest.
As for Harry, the sight of Draco constantly hovering around Tamara with that self important attitude made him unbearably annoyed.
Below the stage, Tamara looked at the two idiots puffing themselves up like fighting roosters and turned away in disgust.
"One, two, three!"
Lockhart's countdown rang out.
"Serpensortia!"
Draco struck first. A streak of black light burst from the tip of his wand.
A black snake landed heavily on the stage between them. It raised its head, flicked its tongue, and let out a dangerous hiss as it prepared to attack Harry.
The crowd screamed and quickly backed away. Many of the younger students even covered their eyes in fear.
Standing below the stage, Tamara looked at the black snake on the platform and raised one eyebrow slightly.
In the Dark Lord's critical eyes, Draco's magical output was still unstable and rough. Even the end of his incantation carried a trace of forced composure and impatience.
But she had to admit that this choice pleased her greatly.
"...Good taste, at least."
For a twelve year old Wizard, that evaluation was nearly supreme praise.
On her habitually pale and indifferent face, an arrogant sneer filled with rare appreciation surfaced.
"Don't move, Potter. I'll get rid of it."
Snape drew his wand unhurriedly, clearly quite pleased to see Potter looking terrified.
"Let me! Let me!"
Lockhart, eager to show off, waved his wand before anyone else could move.
With a loud bang, the snake did not vanish. Instead, it was blasted into the air and crashed heavily near the edge of the crowd.
The blow completely enraged the black snake.
It hissed and slithered, its eyes locking onto the nearest Hufflepuff student, Justin Finch Fletchley.
It coiled its body and bared its fangs, ready to strike.
At that critical moment, Harry's mind suddenly went blank.
He did not know why he was doing it, but a strange instinct within him drove him forward.
He took a step toward the snake.
"Leave him!"
Harry opened his mouth and shouted.
However, what emerged was not human speech.
It was a low, chilling hiss.
To Tamara, Harry's words were perfectly clear.
Leave him.
In that instant, as Lord Voldemort's main soul, Tamara felt the soul fragment within Harry resonate violently with that Parseltongue command.
That familiar soul fluctuation caused a surge of visceral annoyance to rise within her.
Then, a miracle occurred.
The black snake actually understood Harry's words. It lowered its head submissively and lay limp on the floor, all aggression gone.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and looked up, giving Justin a reassuring smile. He thought he had saved him.
But what he saw was a face filled with terror and anger.
"What game are you playing?"
Justin's face was deathly pale as he screamed and staggered backward.
Harry looked around in confusion.
The entire hall had fallen silent.
Everyone was staring at him with strange, frightened eyes.
"Parseltongue..." someone in the crowd whispered, trembling.
"That's the mark of Salazar Slytherin... He's the Heir who opened the Chamber of Secrets!"
Hearing those words, the cold smirk on Tamara's face froze at once.
It was replaced by absurd rage and a chilling killing intent, as if her territory had been gravely trespassed upon.
Ridiculous.
She, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last noble bloodline of Salazar Slytherin, was the true master of the Chamber of Secrets.
And now, this group of stupid Muggle borns and pure blood fools were actually placing her proud, exclusive title on the head of a half baked brat who could barely cast a proper spell?
This was not only theft of her bloodline. It was the ultimate insult to her dignity as the Dark Lord.
With a head full of weeds like Potter's, he deserved to be called the Heir of Slytherin?
Just as disgust and rage churned violently in Tamara's heart, nearly driving her to pull out her wand and give every fool present a Cruciatus Curse, the system's voice rang out.
[Ding! Campus bullying high risk warning!]
[Your close friend Harry Potter is currently facing severe misunderstanding and malicious isolation from the entire school! As his most trusted best friend, how can you stand by and watch?]
[Please step forward immediately and use your Wisdom and eloquence to clear his name! Protect his fragile heart!]
[Reward: Wisdom +1]
[Punishment: If you refuse to execute, the system will activate the "Gryffindor Hymn"!]
[For the next twenty four hours, before you speak every time, you must first loudly add the prefix: "Oh! Gryffindor's Courage is the world's greatest treasure! I love Gryffindor forever!"]
"Shut up, you noisy piece of trash," Tamara cursed through gritted teeth in her mind.
Even without this damn system task, she would absolutely not allow the crown of Heir of Slytherin, which belonged to her, to be placed on the head of this nauseating arch enemy today.
She had to tear that label off Potter immediately.
Just as the atmosphere fell into deadlock, unhurried footsteps broke the suffocating silence.
Tamara walked up to the black snake.
She did not even draw her wand, merely giving a casual wave of her hand.
"Finite Incantatem."
The black snake instantly turned into a wisp of black smoke and vanished without a trace.
Then Tamara turned around and surveyed the terrified students with the gaze one might give a room full of idiots.
"Have all of your brains been stepped on by a Troll?"
Her voice was not loud, but it carried an authority that instantly silenced the hall.
Tamara crossed her arms and spoke coldly.
"Potter faced Quirrell, who was possessed by the Dark Lord, in the underground chambers last year."
"Soul trauma tainted by Dark magic can cause temporary magical disorder when the victim is placed in danger. Under such stimulation, the victim may unconsciously mimic certain traits of the attacker."
Tamara began to fabricate without changing expression.
"If any of you had bothered to read even two volumes of advanced academic literature, you would know that You Know Who was also an extremely rare Parselmouth."
She gave the student who had shouted earlier a contemptuous glance.
"Potter was merely triggered by a post traumatic reaction buried deep in his soul after the shock just now."
Tamara paused, her tone turning chillingly cold.
"To treat a victim suffering from Dark Arts trauma as the evil Heir who opened the Chamber of Secrets... you are not only lacking in common sense, you are appallingly stupid."
The hall fell into dead silence again.
It was true.
Harry Potter had fought You Know Who only last year. Was it really so strange that he might have suffered some side effects?
"So that's how it is..."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as realization dawned on her. Her eyes instantly filled with deep sympathy as she looked at Harry.
"Poor Harry..."
Even Snape narrowed his eyes slightly.
Although he knew Tamara was talking nonsense, he surprisingly did not refute her. Instead, he chose to remain silent.
A crisis that was about to isolate Harry from the entire school was easily resolved by Tamara's absolute authority.
Tamara turned her head and gave Harry Potter, who was still frozen in place with a dazed expression, a cold glance.
She said nothing.
She did not even spare him an extra look.
She merely lifted her chin proudly and turned away with decisiveness.
"Let's go, Draco," Tamara said icily, her voice laced with undisguised distaste. "The stupidity here is suffocating."
Draco, who had been unhappy because Tamara was helping Potter out of trouble again, immediately brightened when he heard that command directed only at him.
He raised his golden head proudly, gave Harry a glare full of superiority, and followed closely behind Tamara as she strode out of the Great Hall.
Harry stood there blankly, watching Tamara's resolute and noble silhouette disappear through the oak doors.
In his thoroughly brainwashed perception, she had protected him once again.
And to protect his pitiful self esteem, she had not even said an extra word. She had simply used her actions to shield him from all malice and rumors.
"She really is... a good person."
After the Duelling Club ended, Tamara walked alone through the dim corridor leading to the Slytherin Dungeons.
Remembering the worshipful look Harry had given her, as if he would give his life for her, Tamara let out an extremely disdainful sneer in her heart.
"What a simple idiot."
She awakened the system in her mind.
"System, query Potter's current favorability toward me."
After a brief silence, the system provided the answer.
[Ding! Query successful. Harry Potter's current favorability and Loyalty toward you is: 8/10.]
[Current Courage: 34, Wisdom: 37]
Tamara's footsteps paused slightly, and her brow furrowed in displeasure.
"Only eight?"
The Dark Lord's absolute desire for control made her feel a hint of dissatisfaction.
"The way he looked at me just now was clearly like a dog ready to die for me at any moment."
"Why isn't it ten? What exactly must I do to fill this damned progress bar?"
This time, however, the usually cheerful and positive system fell into an unusually eerie silence.
After a long while, the system spoke hesitantly.
[Host.]
[As a system dedicated to cultivating virtue, I must warn you with extreme seriousness.]
[You had better pray that his favorability toward you never reaches ten.]
Tamara was stunned.
"What do you mean?"
[In the complex emotional judgment of humans, eight represents absolute Loyalty and willingness to go through fire and water for you.]
[But once it reaches ten...]
[What that represents will no longer be pure Loyalty.]
Tamara fell silent for a moment.
In the dim corridor, only the flickering torchlight along the walls illuminated her pale profile.
"So what?"
Tamara slightly raised her chin, and a flash of the Dark Lord's conceit appeared in her dark eyes.
"System, you underestimate me."
"Whether it is awe, fanaticism, or what you call impure Loyalty... as long as it is an emotion that can be used, there is no difference to me."
She casually adjusted her cuffs with slender fingers and murmured to herself.
"In this world, there is nothing I cannot control."
.....
[Check Out My Patreon For Advance Chapters On All My Fanfics!]
[[email protected]/Eldryx]