Chapter 195 - 195: Blood Doesn’t Make You Worth Anything

Words : 1871 Updated : Oct 7th, 2025

By now, Snape's expression had turned completely dark. He truly hadn't expected that the image Neville feared most would be…himself. Seeing everyone staring in stunned silence, he quickly waved his wand, sending the other Snape back into the wardrobe and slamming the door shut. Only then did he turn back to Neville and sneer, "There's not the slightest trace of your parents in you." "S-sorry…" Neville lowered his head, his eyes glistening with tears as he repeatedly apologised. "Go back to your seat." Neville scrambled to his feet and hurried back to his seat, his face still deathly pale. Snape now spoke in a calm tone, "I believe some of you already know what was inside the cabinet." Hermione shot her hand into the air. "That's right. It was a Boggart—a shape-shifting creature that has no fixed form. It transforms into what it believes will scare you most…that is, the embodiment of your greatest fear." "So Neville's most feared person is Professor Snape…hahaha, what an idiot." Malfoy laughed in a low voice. Audrey frowned slightly and glanced over with a pointed look. "I'm really looking forward to seeing what you'll face, Malfoy." Malfoy's smile froze. His pupils contracted. "The spell to deal with a Boggart is quite simple," Snape continued blandly. "Just wave your wand and say Riddikulus, or rely on strength in numbers to confuse it so it doesn't know what to transform into." "..." Hermione slowly lowered her hand, looking miffed that Snape had just given the answer and not let her speak. Audrey couldn't help but chuckle. If Hermione were to take a potion aligned to a pathway, it would undoubtedly be the Reader. Snape changed his tone. "However, today your task is not simply to utter a spell and pretend you've conquered your fear. Quite the opposite...One by one, you'll come up here, and none of you are allowed to use 'Riddikulus.' I want you to confront your fear directly and use any other spell to drive it back into the cabinet." He paused, then added, "Whoever succeeds first will earn 20 points." Ah! A wave of surprise rippled through the class—especially among students who had heard how this lesson was taught in upper years. It had never been like this before. "All right, next up. Patil—forward!" "Yes!" Parvati Patil instinctively stood up straight, took a deep breath, and walked to the cabinet. BANG! The wardrobe flew open. A blood-soaked mummy, wrapped in bandages, began to shuffle slowly toward her, dragging one foot, arms outstretched as if to strangle her. Parvati shrieked—her reaction even more dramatic than Neville's. "Silence! Raise your wand and fight back!" Snape barked. "Petrificus Totalus! Locomotor Mortis! Wingardium Leviosa! Alohomora!" She squeezed her eyes shut and flailed her wand, shouting every spell she knew. Unfortunately, except for the Unlocking Charm, none of them hit. As the mummy's hands neared her neck, Snape finally waved his wand and banished it back into the cabinet. "Back to your seat! Next!" "Goyle." "Dean." "Crabbe." … One by one, he called them forward. The fears varied wildly—Crabbe's, in particular, was a self-whipping cane that chased him around. But without exception, even the better-performing students only managed to fire off a few spells; the worse ones ran off in blind panic. Snape's expression grew darker by the minute. As he'd suspected, if a dark wizard ever invaded Hogwarts, a single battalion of Boggarts would be enough to rout the entire school. "Finnegan!" Seamus Finnegan gulped and stiffly stepped forward. When the cabinet opened again, a ghostly woman with dragging black hair and a skull-like face floated out. Seamus froze like he'd stopped breathing, staring blankly at her. Only when she drew close did he suddenly jolt back to life and yell, "Wingardium Leviosa!" BOOM! With a loud explosion, the ghost—and the cabinet—was blasted clear across the room. If Snape hadn't dodged in time, even he might not have escaped unscathed. "…" Seamus scratched his head in confusion, then suddenly exclaimed in excitement: "Whoa? I did it! I did it, Professor!" Snape's face twitched. Through clenched teeth, he growled, "Fine. Twenty points to Gryffindor." He grudgingly awarded the points and restored the exploded cabinet. Then he looked at Harry Potter. "Harry Potter." Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward. "I'm ready." Snape's face remained grim as he opened the cabinet door. Out stepped a figure with a face seemingly burnt by fire, features twisted like melting wax, the whites of its eyes bloodshot. Harry's eyes widened at once. Before fear could even kick in, a sharp, burning pain seared through the scar on his forehead. The pain jolted him to his senses, and he shouted, raising his wand: "Expelliarmus!" A red beam shot from his wand, heading straight for "Voldemort"—but just before it hit, Snape stepped in and sent the figure back into the cabinet. "???" Aside from Audrey, everyone in the room looked utterly bewildered. No one understood why Snape had suddenly intervened. "Excellent!" After a brief pause, Snape drew in a long breath. "Very good, Potter. You're even bolder than your father." He forced out the next words through gritted teeth. "Gryffindor…gets one point." Ron looked stunned. The Gryffindors were equally dumbfounded. It was nothing short of a miracle—Snape, the great bat of Hogwarts, had actually awarded Harry Potter a point. Even though it was only one point, it was still unprecedented! "Go. Sit down." Harry, still slightly trembling, bowed his head and walked back to his seat. "Miss Hall." Audrey stepped forward with quick strides, curiosity burning in her heart—what would she see? The trembling, shuddering cabinet suddenly went still. A few seconds later, the door creaked open—and another Audrey stepped out. She looked dazed, panicked, and as confused as the real Audrey. She stood there, unmoving, simply staring at her counterpart. Everyone watched in astonishment. Am I…afraid of myself? Or perhaps, what I fear is the version of me from the past—the girl who had never known the mystical world, who had been pampered by her parents, expected to marry some prince or aristocrat, and spend her life as a socialite, just like her mother. Like a bird that had once soared freely through the open sky, only to be shoved back into a gilded cage. Tap. Audrey gently tapped her counterpart's head with the tip of her dragonbone wand and smiled faintly. "Sorry. That kind of thing doesn't scare me anymore. Are you going back on your own, or should I use a spell to help you along?" The next moment, the Boggart twisted and shrank into a puff of smoke before flying back into the cabinet. The students exchanged confused glances, unsure what had just happened. "Well done," Snape said coolly. "Take your seat." "Malfoy." Draco Malfoy visibly flinched. He raised his pale face. "P-Professor, I…I suddenly have a stomachache. I think I need to go to the hospital wing." Snape narrowed his eyes at him. "Repeat that, Malfoy." "I… I…" "Shall I fetch you myself, Draco Malfoy?" Goyle and Crabbe shot him odd looks, the kind that said: Malfoy, seriously? The ever-arrogant pureblood is actually a coward? And Harry Potter—was he laughing at him with Ron? No. If this keeps up, how am I supposed to maintain my status in Slytherin, or Hogwarts at large? Draco drew in a deep breath, straightened his back, and walked up to the platform like a man going to the gallows. "What are you afraid of, Malfoy?" Snape asked with a faint trace of mockery on his lips. "I'm not afraid, Professor!" Malfoy gripped his wand tightly. "Come on. I'm ready." Creeaak. The cabinet door swung open. Out stepped a man with pale blond hair, icy grey eyes, and a pointed, aristocratic face—like an older, grander version of Malfoy himself. He held a cane and stared down at Draco with a sneer of absolute superiority. "Draco," the man said coldly. "As of this moment, you are expelled from the Malfoy family. You are no longer a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, no longer a noble pure-blood wizard. From now on, you will live the rest of your wretched life as a disgrace—like the filthy half-bloods and Mudbloods you so despise." "Oh, and by the way, you were never pure-blood to begin with. I picked you up from a Muggle trash heap. You're just a defective mongrel." With every sentence, he stepped closer—pushing Draco back, inch by inch—until he was practically whispering the last line into Draco's ear. Draco was frozen with shock. He didn't even blink, let alone raise his wand. Snape stared coldly at the blond spectre, and only when he reached to choke Draco's neck did the professor raise his wand and banish him back into the cabinet. The classroom fell into a silence so deep, you could hear a pin drop. Up until Malfoy's turn, the Boggart had only ever tried to frighten the students with appearances. But this time, it had shifted tactics—resorting to verbal assault. After a long pause, Goyle and Crabbe exchanged glances and muttered: "That was…Malfoy's dad, right?" "Do you think what he said was true? That Malfoy was picked up from a Muggle garbage dump?" "And here he is, always going on about being a pure-blood…" Harry muttered under his breath, "So that's what Malfoy's really afraid of—losing his bloodline. He cares about that so much? But…blood doesn't make you worth anything, does it?" Swish! In an instant, two or three dozen pairs of eyes turned to look at him—including Ron. Audrey couldn't help but laugh. Who would've thought Harry had the makings of a Hunter? At that moment, Snape clasped his hands and said, his voice laced with dark amusement: "Starting today, the Boggart will be a regular presence in this class. You will continue practising with it until each and every one of you is capable of facing fear head-on—defending yourself and striking back during live scenarios." He paused, his gaze sweeping over a few individuals. "Otherwise…I won't hesitate to lock you in a room with the Boggart all night long." "…" A few of the more faint-hearted girls nearly fainted on the spot. "You may be students," Snape continued, "but you're also wizards. Don't delude yourselves into thinking the wizarding world is safe. Don't count on wizard law to always protect you. If the day ever comes when you run into a Dark wizard and you're killed without even fighting back—then what difference does it make if the Aurors catch him afterwards?" "Will it bring you back? Will your families be comforted by that?" "I want you to remember—this class is called Defence Against the Dark Arts. What you must learn here is how to stay alive in the face of danger. Don't wait until you're dead, only to leave behind a gravestone that reads: 'He was a coward.'" "That would just make you look pathetic." ——— [Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.

Chapter 195 - 195: Blood Doesn’t Make You Worth Anything

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