But They Call Me Lion King

"You'd best put his things down." Malfoy parroted, mocking him. "Potter, what do you take me for? One of your little lackeys?"

"Savior, you might be able to command Gryffindor."

"But I am Slytherin."

Harry didn't speak, his gaze merely indifferent as he stared fixedly at him.

"Let's have a race, Potter." Malfoy held up his broomstick. "If—and I'm only saying if—you can beat me, I'll give the item back to you."

"Do you have the guts?"

"Hmm? The great Savior—"

Harry shook his head. "Don't make me say it a third time, Malfoy. Give it back."

"What, too scared?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow, mistaking Harry's attitude for backing down, and grew smug. "So even the Savior has times when he's afraid?"

"Let me think, where should I hide this thing?"

"Just find a tree, toss it into a bird's nest, and then enjoy watching Longbottom cry, clutching the trunk while snot and tears run down his face—"

"Malfoy!" Harry deepened his tone and took a step forward.

Malfoy subconsciously retreated half a step; the incident on the train was still fresh in his mind.

But he glanced behind him—today, it wasn't just Crabbe and Goyle, but other Slytherin students as well. Even if a fight broke out, could he really lose to this group?

The strength in numbers bolstered his courage, and he stood tall, stepping back into his original position. "What, you want to start a fight?"

"Does the Gryffindor brain only consist of savage, crude muscles?"

"We are wizards, noble wizards, Potter."

Harry shook his head and sighed. "Malfoy, do you remember what you said on the train?"

Malfoy was taken aback.

Harry continued, "You told me not to associate with riff-raff like Ron."

Ron, standing beside him, was also stunned. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, ready to fight Malfoy to the death the moment Harry gave the order.

The sudden remark made him deflate instantly, and he looked at Harry in astonishment.

Wait...

What are you doing!

I'm your teammate.

Who starts a fight by severely wounding their own teammate first...

Malfoy sneered, preparing to follow up with a few insults of his own.

But his mouth wasn't faster than Harry's. "So, is it the 'riff-raff' like you who uses bullying others for amusement to highlight your own 'first-class' nobility?"

"In that case, who exactly is the riff-raff?"

Malfoy's face changed drastically, and he glared viciously at Harry.

Harry took another step forward.

"I have no intention of getting involved in your house-playing, painless, and trivial games." Harry waved his hand and continued, "Childish, stupid, boring—you only dare, and can only, pick on the timid and the weak."

In the world of the Witcher, he was still young, only in his forties—which, in the long and enduring life of a Witcher, was still just a child.

But he had seen, or heard of, the court struggles of those human kingdoms.

He was qualified to say that Malfoy's little antics were beneath notice.

Every word was a blade, every sentence a cut, stirring a dull ache in Malfoy's heart and turning his face increasingly ashen.

"But Gryffindor calls me the Lion King—even if it's mostly a joke." Harry's tone grew softer, yet the look in his cat-like eyes became increasingly stern. "You should know what the leader of a pride does when faced with this kind of thing."

"Malfoy, you really shouldn't have provoked me, or Gryffindor, time and time again."

Malfoy opened his mouth.

He was a step too slow again.

"Axii!"

Harry raised his hand, and a white light surged from his fingertips, landing on Malfoy's head.

The platinum-haired young master's eyes immediately turned vacant and muddled; he stood there blankly, blind and foolish.

"Throw the item over." Harry beckoned.

Malfoy obediently and submissively tossed the Remembrall, which landed gently in Harry's hand.

Pansy watched in horror, her voice sharp and piercing. "Potter, what did you do to Malfoy? You actually dared to use the Imperius Curse on him!"

"You actually dared to use an Unforgivable Curse."

Hermione also exclaimed, "Harry, how could you cast a curse on a classmate?"

"You'll get points deducted for this."

The other little lions who were preparing to cheer and applaud looked at Hermione in astonishment—how could a perfectly decent person say such a thing?

Harry raised an eyebrow: "This isn't any Imperius Curse, just a little trick..."

Pansy had no intention of listening to his explanation; she continued to shriek, drawing her wand: "Quick, take down Potter and save Malfoy!"

A streak of red light shot forth, but Harry didn't even bother to dodge—the spell was well-aimed, striking a broomstick on the ground.

Ron raised his arm and shouted, his temper having been simmering for a long time: "Beat them! Teach these Slytherins a lesson!"

The young wizards pulled out their wands, firing off the few spells they had actually learned.

Only Hermione was screaming: "Stop fighting, all of you!"

"Stop it at once!"

"This is against school rules!"

But it was useless; no one was listening to her.

As the "culprit" who incited the chaos, Harry drew the most fire and also contributed the most damage; no Slytherin could remain standing after taking a single punch from Harry.

In a moment, the ground was a mess.

Malfoy finally regained his senses, looking at the ground in horror—the little snakes were lying helter-skelter, groaning in pain: "Potter, what did you do?"

Ron took the opportunity to sneak an attack, kicking Malfoy hard in the backside: "You lie down too!"

Hermione frowned: "Harry, no—if Professor McGonagall finds out about this, she'll be furious."

Ron curled his lip, pinning Malfoy down while shouting: "Hermione, now is not the time to discuss whether or not we're breaking school rules."

"Exactly!" Seamus said, his face glowing with excitement, "This is about defending the honor of our House!"

The other little lions stood on Ron's side as well—they were still immersed in the intense joy of having won their first group brawl.

The Slytherins were much better behaved now, huddled in a corner of the grounds. Malfoy, in particular, clutched his left eye socket, glaring at the Gryffindors with a vicious look.

Professor Hooch returned shortly.

She keenly sensed the strange atmosphere; the two or three broken broomsticks on the ground were the best evidence of what had occurred.

"Can anyone tell me what happened after I left?" Professor Hooch scanned them with a cold eye.

Hermione hesitated.

Malfoy poked his head out like a turtle and raised his hand high: "Professor, after you left, Gryffindor was incited by Potter, and they beat us up."

"And Potter even used the Imperius Curse on me!"

Professor Hooch's expression changed abruptly.

Whether they were fighting or not had to be set aside for a moment.

The Imperius Curse...

That was far too serious.

"Mr. Potter?" Professor Hooch's tone was stern.

Harry was very calm: "Mr. Malfoy is exaggerating. It was mostly me doing the work; the others didn't really participate."

Aside from Harry's fists, that is.

The greatest output had probably been the kick Ron delivered to Malfoy's backside—even the broomsticks had done more damage than Ron, as Malfoy's eye socket had been injured by colliding with a broom handle.

"No, no, no, I am not asking about the fighting," Professor Hooch shook her head, "The Imperius Curse—he said you used the Imperius Curse."

"Professor, can a first-year student even tell the difference between a Confundus Charm and the Imperius Curse?" Harry countered.

Malfoy kicked them while they were down: "But I didn't know anything at the time; I just obediently listened to your orders—"

Harry raised his hand: "Then, Mr. Malfoy, would you like to try it again so Professor Hooch can see?"

Malfoy's face turned pale, and his body shuddered.

Professor Hooch's expression softened slightly; she was more inclined to believe Harry's version of events.

As one of the Unforgivable Curses, a first-year student would have very little access to it.

Let alone the ability to successfully cast it.

Most importantly...

Harry was the Savior—that halo naturally kept Harry far away from Dark Magic.

"Very well, Mr. Potter, I believe you, but this matter is very serious. You were fighting and causing trouble while a professor was away, so I must... Gryffindor will lose twenty points!" Professor Hooch pressed Harry's hand down, her tone stern.

Hermione's heart ached, and her face twisted—twenty points was a score that would take her and Harry a week or more of hard work in class to earn, and that wasn't even counting Snape's nitpicking.

"Professor, perhaps you should hear my testimony?" Harry spoke without changing his expression.

Professor Hooch nodded.

"The cause of this incident was that Mr. Malfoy picked up something Neville dropped and refused to return it," Harry spread his hands, "I don't mean to excuse myself, but we are not the only ones at fault."

"Is that so?" Professor Hooch looked at Malfoy.

Malfoy argued to absolve himself: "No, it was just a joke—who knew Potter couldn't take a joke? He started casting spells at me before I even said two words."

"A joke that isn't accepted by others isn't a joke, Mr. Malfoy." Harry interrupted him, his tone eerie.

Professor Hooch waved a hand: "Then... ten points from Slytherin."

"This is your punishment, Mr. Malfoy."

Malfoy clenched his fists.

"No more trouble! Behave yourselves." Professor Hooch narrowed her eyes and scolded the remaining young wizards, "Now, I am taking Mr. Potter to see Professor McGonagall."

"No!" Hermione's face turned pale, "Professor, Harry already knows he was wrong."

"Yes, you've already deducted points." Ron's expression shifted as well.

Professor Hooch shook her head: "It's about the spell—your Head of House must be informed. While I am very willing to trust Mr. Potter, an Unforgivable Curse is never a small matter."

Harry nodded at them and smiled slightly: "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

Professor Hooch sighed and shook her head, leading Harry toward Professor McGonagall's office—despite being the most leisurely professor in all of Hogwarts, with fewer than ten classes a year.

She was certainly among those who felt the most exhausted.

In flying class, anything could happen; now there were even cases of group brawls. If a group of Dementors suddenly appeared during class one day, she wouldn't even be surprised anymore.

Inside the office.

After hearing Professor Hooch's testimony, Professor McGonagall's face turned extremely stern: "Mr. Potter, I always thought you would be the student who gave me the least trouble!"

"Yet, you've caused something like this!"

Her heart ached; she should have realized sooner that someone from the Potter family could never stay out of trouble!

"Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

Professor Hooch reminded her: "Minerva, I have already deducted points."

"Then deduct another twenty." Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, "School has barely started, and you're already leading a group brawl between Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"No young wizard has ever done such a thing!"

Harry did not defend himself.

"Forget it, let's talk about that spell now." Professor McGonagall eased up, her tone softening, "Take out your wand, Mr. Potter."

Harry obeyed obediently and pulled his wand out from the Sorting Hat.

Thanks for the monthly tickets~

Please continue to support; I ask for votes with confidence (not really).