Return of Salazar Slytherin

"Mr. Lint, please return to your seat."

Snape's tone was unusually mild when addressing Rhys. 

"Someone threw a firework into Weasley's cauldron. That was the true cause of the accident." Rhys did not follow Snape's instruction. 

His voice echoed through the underground classroom. The students all lowered their heads, not daring to breathe too loudly, fearing they would be dragged into this terrifying storm. 

The Slytherin students hung their heads in silence, feigning ignorance. The Gryffindors did the same, staring fixedly at the clutter on their desks, though their ears were all perked up. 

This was a direct confrontation between a Slytherin student and Snape! If someone recorded the conversation, it could sell for a fortune in the common room. If all it took was a single detention to witness this showdown, half of Gryffindor would be lining up to sign up, probably breaking down Filch's office door in the process. 

At the mention of "firework," Ron and Harry's eyes widened in shock. They instinctively turned to look in Malfoy's direction. 

The color drained from Malfoy's face for a brief moment. He quickly reinforced his mental defenses, repeating to himself: It's fine. There's no proof, right? 

"Ah~ Interesting," Snape's voice finally carried a trace of coldness. "So, Mr. Lint, who do you think threw this firework into Mr. Weasley's cauldron?" 

He had tossed the ball back into Rhys' court. 

Rhys' response was to walk straight to Malfoy's desk and extend his hand toward him.

"May I take a look at your wand?" Rhys' smile flickered at the corners of his lips.

A guilty thief like Malfoy, of course, would never agree to such a request.

But Rhys wasn't really asking for permission—he was merely being polite. If Malfoy refused to act with dignity, Rhys would help him do so.

With a wave of his hand, Malfoy's wand shot out from beneath his robes and landed in Rhys' palm.

Malfoy clearly hadn't anticipated this.

Panic flashed across his face as he abruptly stood up, attempting to snatch his wand back from Rhys.

"Petrificus Totalus." Rhys casually cast the spell, freezing Malfoy in place. His arms snapped tightly to his sides, and he fell straight back onto his chair.

Seeing Malfoy's reaction, most of the students had already guessed the truth.

The strangest part, however, was that Rhys had blatantly violated the classroom discipline Snape had always upheld. Under normal circumstances, Snape would have handed out detention without hesitation. Yet now, he merely stood at the podium, arms crossed, watching coldly.

Many young wizards came to a silent realization—Rhys had gained a special "privilege" from Professor Snape.

"I once read about a simple spell in a book called Thirteen Magical Investigation Techniques," Rhys said softly. "It's called the Prior Incantato charm. It reveals the most recent spell cast by a wand."

He glanced at Malfoy. "We'll know the truth very soon, Draco."

Rhys' voice echoed through the underground classroom: "If I have wronged you, I am willing to apologize and voluntarily request detention from Professor Snape."

As for what would happen if Malfoy wasn't innocent, Rhys didn't say—but fear had already filled Malfoy's eyes.

Of course, he knew exactly what the last spell cast by his wand had been.

Rhys was so confident because he had already detected traces of Draco Malfoy's magic lingering on the remains of the firework.

He raised his wand and tapped it against Malfoy's.

"Prior Incantato."

Under the effect of Rhys' spell, a wisp of gray smoke curled out from the point where the two wands met, forming the shadowy outline of a firework. The spectral firework floated upward, drifted forward a short distance, and then vanished.

Rhys tossed Malfoy's wand back onto his desk and lifted the Petrificus Totalus spell.

As the curse lifted, Malfoy collapsed into his chair. The Prior Incantato spell had provided undeniable proof of his act—there was no room left for denial.

Fine. I'll accept it. I'll take the punishment.

Malfoy decided to just let it be. After all, the Potions professor was Snape—there was no way he would face any real consequences.

Rhys saw right through Malfoy's thoughts, and a surge of anger flared in his chest. Then, he did something that shocked every student in the room.

Bang!

Rhys slammed his fist onto the desk, shaking Malfoy's wand so hard that it bounced into the air.

"If you can't behave in class, then get out! What do you think potion-making is?! Do you think this is your personal playground?!"

Faced with Rhys' outburst against Draco, Snape, for once, remained silent. After Malfoy had been caught red-handed, Snape had been this close to kicking him out of the classroom himself.

But, mindful of his own carefully maintained persona, he had forcibly swallowed his anger—he needed to maintain good relations with Lucius Malfoy so that when Voldemort inevitably returned, he could infiltrate the Death Eaters once more.

Rhys had spoken the words Snape couldn't.

No professor could tolerate Draco's behavior—especially not in a class involving dangerous experimental work.

If the one caught had been Potter, Snape would have stormed straight to Dumbledore to file a complaint and kept him in detention until the end of the school year.

But now that Rhys had exposed the issue, it was much easier for Snape to act.

Malfoy flinched at Rhys' fury and instinctively glanced toward Professor Snape—only to find him standing with his arms crossed, gaze lowered, lost in thought.

After a few seconds, it seemed Draco made up his mind.

"Slytherin loses ten points. Draco Malfoy, from now on, you will serve detention in my office every Friday night until you understand what classroom discipline means. Additionally, you will write me a one-foot-long letter of reflection."

Snape had made his decision on Malfoy's punishment.

Malfoy's face twisted in disbelief, but once Snape had spoken, there was no room for negotiation.

After class, Daphne cheerfully walked out of the Potions classroom alongside Rhys.

"That was amazing! I've wanted to put that fuc—guy in his place for ages! The look on his face when Professor Snape announced the punishment—someone should've had an artist capture that and hang it in the Great Hall! Though… it's a bit of a shame we didn't get to test the potion after all..." Daphne sneaked a cautious glance at Rhys, unsure if he still meant what he had said before.

Rhys, of course, caught the hidden meaning behind her words. He pretended to ponder for a moment, then reached into his robes and pulled out an old, timeworn parchment scroll.

He had originally intended to explain where the parchment came from, but he swallowed his words as a young and beautiful ghost emerged from the wall, floating before him.

"I have something to take care of. You can read through the notes on this scroll—if there's anything you don't understand, ask me later."

With that, Rhys lifted a hanging tapestry in the corridor and slipped into the hidden passage behind it. The castle was filled with these secret doorways, and using them wisely could save a significant amount of time when traveling between classrooms.

Daphne wanted to follow, but she quickly realized that Rhys had already locked the secret door from the other side. 

Seeing Helena enter the passage along with him, Rhys nodded in satisfaction. 

"Nana, are you ready?" 

Helena Ravenclaw gave a small nod. She had steeled herself—she was ready to face her mother. 

"That's wonderful." Rhys stepped forward, leading Helena toward the dungeons.

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