Unaware of what had transpired earlier, Professor Snape flicked his hand casually, swinging the door open.
Four Slytherin students stepped inside in unison.
Ignoring Jarel, who was working facing the wall, they offered their greetings to Snape.
“I trust you aren’t trolls, and that you know what warrants disturbing me and what does not,” Snape said irritably, lacking any patience for them.
The ringleader, Alexander Whitmore, visibly flinched.
But remembering something, he blurted out an angry accusation:
“Professor Snape, we just ran into that ungrateful Ravenclaw boy on the first basement level!
Not only did he fail to greet us, but he also hurled insults at Slytherin!
Daniel and I couldn’t stand by, so we tried to reason with him—only for him to attack us with spells and run away!”
“Professor Snape, no one has ever humiliated Slytherin like this!” Alexander held his head high, his expression arrogant.
Snape had stopped grading the moment Alexander uttered his first sentence.
He stared at Alexander in silence, remaining silent even after Alexander finished his righteous speech.
The office fell eerily quiet.
The four boys waited for Snape to take their side, Snape’s expression remained unreadable, and Jarel stopped his work, listening attentively with his back turned.
“Pfft—”
After a long silence—just as the confidence on the four Slytherins’ faces began to turn into confusion, anxiety, and eventually a hint of guilt—Snape finally curled his lips and let out a soft sneer.
“Did you fight back?” he asked calmly.
Behind Alexander, a slightly shorter Slytherin student suddenly realized something and hurriedly tugged at Alexander’s robes.
Ignoring the gesture, Alexander blurted out instinctively, “Of course!
All of us fought back!”
*Oh boy, wrong answer,* Jarel smirked secretly.
Snape lowered his eyelids slightly, crossed his arms, and leaned back into his chair.
He spoke slowly, his tone absolute.
“So, what you’re telling me is that he provoked you, you fought back—four against one—and you lost.”
The pride on Alexander’s face instantly froze.
Cold sweat broke out across his forehead, while the three boys behind him bowed their heads in unison.
Fighting was disgraceful; losing a fight was disgraceful; losing a four-against-one fight was the ultimate disgrace!
Snape—who took great pride in having fought one-against-four and coming out victorious in his youth—was infuriated by their pathetic weakness.
Never mind the reason for the brawl—what mattered was the outcome!
Did they win?!
Alexander tried desperately to salvage the situation, forcing himself to stay composed.
“Professor, that Ravenclaw, Jarel Prentiss, insulted Slytherin! Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
We shouldn’t let him get away with it!”
Snape refused to be manipulated.
He shot back coldly, “If Slytherin’s honor means four upperclassmen cornering a single first-year and losing, then I agree—he was right to insult Slytherin.
Because such Slytherins have no honor worth defending.”
Snape’s sharp, blunt sarcasm was laced with unvarnished rage and disgust.
He was furious at their pitiful lack of skill, and disgusted that they had used such a stupid excuse to try to goad him.
Did he look that foolish to them?!
Having been Head of Slytherin House for less than a year—not yet the dreaded Dungeon Snake King of later years—Snape narrowed his eyes, mentally calculating how to give his house a proper lesson.
Over by the wall, Jarel was thoroughly enjoying the show.
Then, the student behind Alexander—the one who had tugged his robe—spoke up in a deep voice.
“Professor Snape, we apologize for failing to secure a victory, but there was a reason.
That Prentiss boy knows a strange magic.
He launched over a dozen fireballs in an instant that were nearly impossible to extinguish!
We only let him escape because we had to protect ourselves.
I don’t believe such a spell falls within the standard school curriculum.”
Snape’s interest was piqued.
He cast a side glance at Jarel, who was pretending to mind his own business while listening intently, before giving his students a way out.
“So, Mr.
Carter, what are you suggesting?”
Believing he had finally hit the mark, Daniel Carter excitedly added, “Dark magic!
It must be dark magic!
I could feel the explosive aura within those magical fireballs.
It was definitely not standard magic like *Incendio*!”
Jarel rolled his eyes at the wall.
*What utter rubbish.* The lengths they’d go to frame him!
Dark magic left behind an unmistakable residual aura; if the professor went over to inspect the corridor, the lie would fall apart instantly.
Besides, Fire Release jutsu rarely killed anyone outright; it was mostly used for disruption or igniting targets.
Only wizards who neglected physical movement would fail to dodge it.
If it were Jarel, he had a hundred ways to avoid getting hit.
“Allow me to remind you that the aura of dark magic lingers at the scene for a time.
Daniel hastily lowered his head, keeping his mouth shut tight.
Snape had no desire to keep humiliating Slytherins in front of Jarel, as that would ruin the house’s standing before a Ravenclaw.
He offered a helpful directive: “*Prior Incantato.*”
To his irritation, Alexander and the others ducked their heads even lower.
Alexander muttered sullenly, “He didn’t touch his wand, nor did he chant an incantation.
*Prior Incantato* won’t reveal anything.”
*Uh oh.* Jarel’s body went stiff.
He could clearly feel Snape’s deadly gaze drilling into his back.
He groaned inwardly.
To avoid leaving evidence, he had deliberately used ninjutsu.
Now look what happened—were they going to assume he could cast non-verbal, wandless magic?!
Voldemort had only been gone for a short while—would a first-year pulling off wandless, non-verbal magic draw serious suspicion?!
He hadn’t expected those idiots to be childish enough to complain to a teacher when they were the ones in the wrong to begin with!
Snape grew even angrier.
Naturally, he didn’t believe a brand-new student could cast non-verbal, wandless offensive spells.
He assumed it was a family heirloom defense artifact—and one capable of launching only a few fireballs was hardly valuable.
Given that the Prentiss family’s financial situation was only slightly better than the Weasleys’, such a low-grade magical artifact was all they could afford.
What truly infuriated Snape was that his own students couldn’t even recognize a simple artifact, and had blatantly lied about dark magic!
And they had done it right in front of the boy himself!
He’d bet good money that Jarel was mocking him relentlessly in his head right now.
Failing to inflict suffering on a student in detention and instead providing him with a front-row seat to a humiliation show sent Snape’s magic flaring violently.
The oppressive aura frightened the four Slytherin students into backing away, and even Jarel couldn’t help shrinking his shoulders slightly.
“Mr.
Prentiss,” Snape said abruptly, startling Alexander and his group.
“Pray tell your poor Potions professor how you gloriously won a four-against-one battle.”
Knowing Snape wasn’t going to let him off the hook, Jarel turned around calmly.
“Certainly, Professor.”
Only then did Alexander and the others realize that the student stuck in detention was Jarel!
Realizing that he had been listening to their own House Master berate them for so long, they burned with a mix of fury and embarrassment.
Glaring at him with eyes full of rage, they wished nothing more than for Jarel to turn into a slug on the spot and be boiled into a potion.
Under the bright overhead lights of the dungeon office, Jarel’s unusually pale eyes looked eerily unsettling.
He stared straight back at them, and just as Alexander’s group began to recall horror stories from their childhoods, he calmly began to speak.