Anger

The next morning, the Hogwarts Great Hall was as noisy as ever. At the Gryffindor table, Harry Potter stared in surprise at a long package in front of him, while Ron and Hermione gathered around it curiously.

Carrying his plate, Silas naturally wandered over to the Gryffindor table again, claiming that "the bacon smells better over here." He glanced at the package and whistled.

"Wow~ A Nimbus 2000. Nice."

Harry looked up, his face full of disbelief. "This is a flying broom?" He picked up the card attached to the package and read, "'Professor McGonagall... bought this for me???'" He was completely bewildered, unable to understand why Professor McGonagall would give him such an expensive gift while breaking school rules.

Silas took a bite of bread and said vaguely, "Professor McGonagall really is great, even if she's a little strict. She even promised to teach me Animagus transformation once I'm older and more capable." There was a touch of smugness in his tone.

Harry asked curiously, "Animagus? What's that?"

"A very advanced form of Transfiguration Magic," Silas explained. "It lets you turn yourself into an animal and turn back again. It's very difficult to learn, and you have to register with the Ministry of Magic..."

Their conversation was interrupted by an unpleasant voice. Draco Malfoy had somehow walked over, wearing a mocking fake smile as he drawled,

"Ohhh—look what we have here. A brand-new broom? Potter, don't you know first-years aren't allowed to bring their own flying brooms? Just wait for your punishment. Maybe you'll even get expelled?" He looked at Harry with undisguised glee.

Without even looking up, Silas poked at the beans on his plate with his fork and coldly tossed out two words. "Get lost, Malfoy."

Enraged by Silas's attitude, Malfoy turned his attention toward him. A vicious expression appeared on his face as he clearly spat out his most insulting word.

"Shut up, you damned Mudblood!"

The word exploded through the noisy Great Hall like a thunderclap. The surroundings fell silent in an instant, and many people sucked in a sharp breath. Hermione's face went deathly pale. Ron rose angrily to his feet, and Harry clenched his fists.

Silas's hand, still holding the fork, froze.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he raised his head. The lazy amusement usually on his face vanished without a trace, replaced by an extreme coldness and calm. Yet deep within his eyes, golden flames seemed to burn.

He set down his fork and even elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

Then he rose to his feet and faced Malfoy.

"Wow..." Silas murmured softly. His voice was not loud, but it seemed to freeze the air around them.

There was no incantation, nor any movement of a wand. In an instant, a long sword made entirely of blazing golden light appeared in his hand out of thin air! Its ancient, majestic form flowed with powerful magic, radiating waves of heart-stopping energy.

Vishanti Holy Sword!

In the next second, golden light flashed! The tip of the sword was already pressed precisely and coldly against Draco Malfoy's throat! The scorching energy even made the skin on Malfoy's neck sting!

Silas's voice was low, yet it rang out word by word with the calm killing intent of a Siberian wind.

"You [bleep--] little bastard, say that again."

The entire Great Hall was silent. Even the professors at the staff table rose in shock. All color instantly drained from Malfoy's face. He stood frozen in place, not daring to move, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He could feel that with the slightest flick of Silas's wrist, that terrifying sword of light could easily slice open his throat.

The Sword of Vishanti in Silas's hand, formed from pure light energy, radiated a scorching and dangerous aura as it remained pressed tightly against Draco Malfoy's throat. Malfoy was terrified out of his mind, his entire body rigid, even his breathing nearly halted. He could clearly feel death inches away.

At that critical moment, a streak of red light shot toward them from the staff table!

Expelliarmus!

The red light struck the sword of light in Silas's hand with perfect accuracy. Although the Sword of Vishanti was made of magic, the immense force of the Disarming Charm still disrupted its stability. The blade let out a hum and flew from Silas's grip, flickering several times in midair before dissolving into specks of golden light.

With the deadly threat at his throat gone, Draco Malfoy's taut nerves snapped loose. The overwhelming terror and lingering fear made his legs give way, and he collapsed to the floor with a thud. Worse still, everyone could clearly see a dark, irregular wet patch rapidly spreading across the crotch of his pale trousers.

He... he had peed himself.

A faint stench of urine spread through the air.

The surrounding students let out suppressed gasps and whispers. Their gazes toward Malfoy were filled with contempt and ridicule, while their looks at Silas were filled with fear.

In the dead silence, black robes billowing, Severus Snape glided silently and swiftly onto the scene like a black phantom. His sallow face bore no expression, but his black eyes, like the depths of a frozen abyss, first swept over Malfoy sprawled on the floor in disgrace before locking firmly onto Silas Cyril.

"Kirill." Snape's voice was low and smooth, yet it carried the weight of a thousand pounds.

Silas flexed the wrist that had gone slightly numb from the spell. There was no fear on his face. Instead, he raised his head and met Snape's gaze calmly, even with a hint of provocation.

"Is there a problem, Professor?" His tone made it sound as though he were asking about the weather.

Everyone thought Snape would punish Silas without hesitation and in the harshest possible way. Using dangerous magic openly in the Great Hall—that sword of light looked capable of killing someone—and threatening a fellow student were offenses enough to get him expelled!

Yet Snape did not erupt immediately. He remained silent, his all-seeing black eyes resting on Silas's face for a full ten seconds. No one knew that when he heard the word "Mudblood" come from Malfoy's mouth, it felt as though an icy hand had gripped his heart tightly! That word was like a rusty, blunt knife, tearing open the deepest and most unhealable wound in his heart once more. The angry, wounded face of that red-haired, green-eyed girl seemed to appear before him again.

He could never forgive himself for the mistake he had once made.

In the end, Snape turned his gaze toward Draco Malfoy, who was still sprawled on the floor, trembling with soaked trousers. His voice remained cold, but his words left everyone dumbfounded.

"Malfoy, openly using an extremely insulting slur to abuse another person is a serious violation of school rules. Detention for one week, beginning tonight. Now, immediately, get back to your dormitory and clean yourself up."

Malfoy jerked his head up, his face full of disbelief and humiliation. "P-Professor?! It was him! He was going to kill me with that thing!" He pointed at Silas and shrieked.

One cold look from Snape made Malfoy shut his mouth at once. "Do I need to repeat myself, Mr. Malfoy?"

Pale-faced, Malfoy fled the Great Hall in miserable disarray, staggering away with Crabbe and Goyle supporting him. Students moved aside wherever he passed, unable to hide the disgust on their faces.

After dealing with Malfoy, Snape's gaze returned to Silas. Everyone held their breath, eager to see how he would handle him.

Snape stared at Silas and slowly, almost through gritted teeth, said, "As for you, Mr. Kirill... openly using unapproved, highly offensive magic in the Great Hall... Ravenclaw loses fifty points."

Compared to Silas's actions, this punishment was unbelievably light! He did not even receive detention!

After saying that, Snape stopped looking at Silas. With a sharp sweep of his black robes, he turned and strode out of the Great Hall, leaving behind a hall full of stunned, whispering students.

Silas watched Snape's departing back and raised an eyebrow, seemingly a little surprised by the outcome himself. He shrugged, sat back down, picked up his fork, and continued eating his unfinished breakfast as though nothing had happened.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron stared at him in shock, then looked toward where Snape had vanished, utterly unable to understand what had just happened. Only a very few people in the know might have vaguely guessed what unspeakable past and pain lay behind Snape's unusual "fairness." And the word "Mudblood" had undoubtedly touched a line he would never allow anyone to cross.