ttom and Finch-Fletchley, how about
you -"
"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large
and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest
spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the
hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker.
"How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.
"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the
middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.
"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you,
you do this."
He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling
action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up,
saying, "Whoops -my wand is a little overexcited -"
Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something
in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart
and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"
"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.
"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.
Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did,
Harry!"
"What, drop my wand?"
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But Lockhart wasn't listening.
"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.
Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"
The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black
snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and
raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd
backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.
"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of
Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get
rid of it ......
"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake
and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten
feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged,
hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and
raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.
Harry wasn't sure what made him do it. He wasn't even aware of
deciding to do it. All he knew was that his legs were carrying him
forward as though he was on casters and that he had shouted stupidly
at the snake, "Leave him alone!" And miraculously - inexplicably - the
snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its
eyes now on Harry. Harry felt the fear drain out of him. He knew the
snake wouldn't attack anyone now, though how he knew it, he couldn't
have explained.
He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking
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relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful - but certainly not angry and
scared.
"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted, and before Harry
could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.
Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a
small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry in an
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unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry
didn't like it. He was also dimly aware of an ominous muttering all
around the walls. Then he felt a tugging on the back of his robes.
"Come on," said Rods voice in his ear. "Move - come on -"
Ron steered him out of the hall, Hermione hurrying alongside them. As
they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as
though they were frightened of catching something. Harry didn't have
a clue what was going on, and neither Ron nor Hermione explained
anything until they had dragged him all the way up to the empty
Gryffindor common room. Then Ron pushed Harry into an armchair
and said, "You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?"
"I'm a what?" said Harry.
'A Parselmouth!" said Ron. "You can talk to snakes!"
"I know," said Harry. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever
done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the
zoo once - long story - but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil
and I sort of set it free without meaning to that was before I knew I
was a wizard -"
"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Ron repeated
faintly.
*195*
"So?" said Harry. "I bet loads of people here can do it."
"Oh, no they can't," said Ron. "It's not a very common gift. Harry, this
is bad."
"What's bad?" said Harry, starting to feel quite angry. "What's wrong
with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin -"
"Oh, that's what you said to it?"
"What d'you mean? You were there - you heard me -"
"I heard you speaking Parseltongue," said Ron. "Snake language. You
166
could have been saying anything - no wonder Justin panicked, you
sounded like you were egging the snake on or something - it was
creepy, you know -"
Harry gaped at him.
"I spoke a different language? But - I didn't realize - how can I speak
a language without knowing I can speak it?"
Ron shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking as though
someone had died. Harry couldn't see what was so terrible.
"D'you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a massive snake
biting off Justin's head?" he said. "What does it matter how I did it as
long as Justin doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"
"It matters," said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice,
"because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was
famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent."
Harry's mouth fell open.
"Exactly," said Ron. "And now the whole school's going to think you're
his great-great-great-great-grandson or something -"
"But I'm not," said Harry, with a panic he couldn't quite explain.
"You'll find that hard to prove," said Hermione. "He lived about a
thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be."
* IL96 *
Harry lay awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the curtains
around his four-poster he watched snow starting to drift past the
tower window and wondered . . .
Could he be a descendant of Salazar Slithering? He didn't know
anything about his father's family, after all. The Dursleys had always
forbidden questions about his wizarding relatives.
Quietly, Harry tried to say something in Parseltongue. The words
wouldn't come. It seemed he had to be face-to-face with a snake to
167
do it.
But I'm in Gryffindor, Harry thought. The Sorting Hat wouldn't
have put me in here if I had Slytherin blood...
Ah, said a nasty little voice in his brain, but the Sorting Hat wanted to
put you in Slytherin, don't you remember?
Harry turned over. He'd see Justin the next day in Herbology and he'd
explain that he'd been calling the snake off, not egging it on, which (he
thought angrily, pummeling his pillow) any fool should have realized.
By next morning, however, the snow that had begun in the night had
turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the
term was canceled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves
on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else,
now that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and
revive Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey.
Harry fretted about this next to the fire in the Gryffindor common
room, while Ron and Hermione used their time off to play a game of
wizard chess.
"For heaven's sake, Harry," said Hermione, exasperated, as one
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of Ron's bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him off
the board. "Go and find Justin if it's so important to you."
So Harry got up and left through the portrait hole, wondering where
Justin might be.
The castle was darker than it usually was in daytime because of the
thick, swirling gray snow at every window. Shivering, Harry walked
past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of
what was happening within. Professor McGonagall was shouting at
someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a badger.
Resisting the urge to take a look, Harry walked on by, thinking that
Justin might be using his free time to catch up on some work, and
deciding to check the library first.
168
A group of the Hufliepuffs who should have been in Herbology were
indeed sitting at the back of the library, but they didn't seem to be
working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Harry could see
that their heads were close together and they were having what looked
like an absorbing conversation. He couldn't see whether Justin was
among them. He was walking toward them when something of what
they were saying met his ears, and he paused to listen, hidden in the
Invisibility section.
"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our
dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next
victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's
been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to
Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down
for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's
heir on the loose, is it?"
"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" said a girl with blonde
pigtails anxiously.
198
"Hannah," said the stout boy solemnly, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone
knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a
decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself
Serpent-tongue."
There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on,
"Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir,
Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we
know, Flich's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying
Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was
lying in the mud. Next thing we know - Creevey's been attacked."
"He always seems so nice, though," said Hannah uncertainly, "and,
well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be
all bad, can he?"
Ern