" This, can't, can't be!"
Harry argued irritably when Hermione relayed Felix's words to Harry and Ron.
He didn't want to admit that he had an ancestor who knew rat language!
Harry felt like he'd had a terrible first week of school. Being detained for driving across Britain, being forcibly assaulted by Lockhart, a crazy encounter with photography enthusiast Colin, plus heavy Quidditch training ...
And with his detention yesterday, he had to write back to Lockhart's fans, one letter after another, endlessly, for four whole hours!
That wasn't the worst of it, in Lockhart's office he heard the disconnected voice, "Kill thee ... rip ... die ... "
When he told both about it this morning, they looked as if he had finally gone mad. And then Hermione volunteered to ask Professor Hap about it, and the answer she got broke him down a little.
" Well that's not always the case mate, I've heard rumours of something like that." Ron whispered, pulling a fat mouse out of his pocket, this one looked a little shrivelled up, "You could try it, by talking to Scabbers!"
Ron held Scabbers in his hands and handed it to Harry with anticipation in his eyes.
Harry had to lower his head and meet the mouse's eyes, "Can you understand what I'm saying?"
Scabbers rolled his eyes and turned sideways without looking at him.
"Harry, don't use the human tongue! You just spoke in human tongue." Ron said.
Harry: "..." I know what you mean, but can you be more civilized for a change.
He tried a dozen times more and the rat didn't respond a bit, "No!" He breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Fortunately, things hadn't gone in the worst possible direction.
Hermione looked at the farce that had just happened and spoke up to warn him, "Harry, Professor Hap was just giving an example, there are other possibilities."
Ron, however, disagreed, "What else could be in the castle besides rats? It can't be bugs, right?"
The conjecture is even more terrifying, and Harry's body shuddered as he quickly turned on his mind and searched his brain, trying to divert the topic.
"Maybe it's a snake!"
" Snake?"
Ron and Hermione fell silent for a moment, both of them looking at each other with a strange expression.
"You mean, you can talk to snakes?" Ron swallowed heavily.
Harry didn't notice this, he got excited now and recounted his experience of visiting the zoo and talking to one of the snakes in it before he started school.
"A python told you that it had never been to Brazil?" Ron's voice sounded very weak.
"Is there anything to that? I bet there are many people who could have to do that! It's what Professor Hap mentioned, that ... talent!"
Ron didn't say anything and Hermione whispered, "Harry, talking to snakes is the hallmark of Salazar Slytherin. The ability is called Parselmouth, which is why the symbol of Slytherin House is a snake."
"But I'm not." Harry somewhat confused. But then he suddenly remembered that during his first year sorting, the Sorting Hat had strongly recommended that he should choose Slytherin House, and the thought of that made Harry shut his mouth tightly.
"It's okay, mate." Ron patted him on the shoulder in mock relief, "Pureblood wizards often intermarry with each other, maybe you're a great-great-great ... grandson of Slytherin."
Seeing that Harry showed no sign of relaxing at all, he added in a whisper, "Really, if you really want to get down to it, most of the pureblood wizard families can be related, and I'm still related to Malfoy."
"You and Malfoy?" Harry was shocked.
Ron shrugged, "There are only so many pureblood wizards out there, it's normal for them to intermarry with each other. If you ask me, the true purebloods would have been long gone, they wouldn't have been passed down until now if it isn't for the intermarriage "
Harry finally calmed down.
"Harry, it's best not to say a word about this to the outside world," Hermione suggested.
Harry nodded, to his death he wouldn't say a thing, he didn't want to be related to Slytherin.
And Hermione brought the conversation back on track, "Since you're a Parselmouth, the sound you heard the other day was most likely a snake, probably it was moving along a gap in the wall."
"But I heard it saying things like death, killing, and tearing apart to pieces."
"Maybe it was hunting at the time? You know, just chasing some rats, little bugs, whatever." Ron speculated.
Without proof, the trio had no choice but to let it go.
It isn't that big deal anyway!
"Hermione, how's your thesis coming along?" Harry asked.
"Oh no!"
Hermione exclaimed and quickly left, leaving the two dazed in their places.
"Has Hermione been reading herself silly lately? It's the first time I've seen her in this state." Ron said.
Harry shrugged.
Library.
Hermione is all alone occupying a large table filled with thick books, a sheet of parchment in front of her, in which she's furiously scribbling away.
It would probably be an all-nighter today, with less than ten hours before the library closed.
Come on, Hermione! She cheered herself on.
She had only read twelve books so far, and she had only read them in general, skimming through them and remembering no more than fifty percent of them, which was a far cry from her usual habits, and she hadn't even memorized them.
Not only that, but she had to give up her reading habits for the sake of her thesis. But she had decided that when she finished her thesis, she would review this list of books and memorize them all.
She flipped through the pages with a clatter, all the while jotting down appropriate arguments and justifications with madness in which she didn't even notice Mrs Pince walking past her several times.
She stayed until closing time when she finally finished 16 books and staggered back to the common room with the remaining four, and the thick parchment, yawning.
Tonight, she is going to struggle along with the books.
Pushing open the door to the common room, the other young wizards had already gone back and only two remained.
"Harry, Ron?" Hermione somewhat surprised.
"Hi, we didn't see you at dinner and thought you shouldn't be gone and brought this for you." Ron gestured to the table in front of him, on top of which is food wrapped in parchment, which soaked right through the outer layer and oozed with an oily stain.
Hermione covered her mouth, forcing herself not to burst into tears.
Harry chuckled, "We can't help with the thesis, and this is all we can do. Come on, Hermione, you're the smartest person I've ever known in my life."
Hermione nodded heavily.
The two of them left and Hermione opened the parchment, inside were two pies, which she gobbled down.
She is now all alone in the quiet common room.
The next day, Monday, Hermione is in a trance all day, and nearly made Harry the object of her transfiguration while practicing transfiguration.
By noon, she had to make a trip to the infirmary.
There is no second period in the afternoon, and she intended to finish the last two books - having stayed up all night, she had finished her thesis, but she always thought that she must finish them all, and perhaps it would help to add something new to her thesis.
But she is so tired that when Harry finished Quidditch practice, he found Hermione asleep in the common room.
"Hermione, Hermione?"
"Harry?" Hermione's eyes opened sleepily, her hair getting more bushy and ruffled looking.
She quickly woke up and let out a squeak, "What time is it Harry, what time is it?"
"Half-past eight, Hermione." Fred, who had also just finished training, replied, "I'll never forget that bastard Wood, our first weekend of school we trained until half-past eight. And starting the second week, he pushed it even further."
On the sidelines, Wood had a dark look on his face, "I'm still here!"
He isn't the only one, the members of the Gryffindor team were all here, covered in mud and too tired to speak.
Hermione jumped up at once and hurried out the door, not taking more than a few steps before turning back, sorting her parchments on the table quickly, mouthing some words, and confirming that they were in order before tugging up her book bag and quickly disappearing from their sight.
"What a hard-working, studious girl." Angelina commented.
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