Watching Gilderoy Lockhart look so smug and self-satisfied, as if he genuinely considered himself a hero, a flash of undisguised disgust and contempt crossed Professor Snape’s dark, fathomless eyes. That look was like a sharp, icy blade capable of slicing right through Lockhart’s hypocritical mask.
He pressed his thin lips into a tight line, radiating an aura as cold and unyielding as the perpetual chill of a dungeon. Finally, unable to restrain himself any longer, he spoke. His voice was low and freezing, every single word laden with a biting frost:
"Hmph, utter nonsense. Feigning weakness? You simply lack the skill. A true duel relies on genuine magical prowess, not your flashy theories and pathetic excuses."
Chapter 239