"You really are beautiful," he said, tracing his finger along the back of the drawn snake. The creature met his gaze, while gasps erupted from the two Gryffindors and two Slytherins beside him. "What?" he asked, perplexed.
"Potter… You… You can speak Parseltongue!" Draconica exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief.
**Chapter 21: The Beast's Enigma**
"Parseltongue?" Harry responded, taken aback—though he had encountered the term in his studies, he had yet to grasp its true meaning.
"Yes, it's the language of snakes," the blonde Slytherin witch explained. "It's a rare gift, typically inherited. Only the descendants of the Slytherin lineage possess it in Europe. There are also some clans in Cambodia and a few families in Central America who can communicate with serpents."
"Since the Slytherin family hasn't always had a positive reputation, those who can speak Parseltongue are often seen as dark wizards here in England," Neville added. "This stigma has grown even worse since You-Know-Who's rise to power." Harry nodded, absorbing the information. He knew he would need to keep this ability under wraps—not that he planned to share it with anyone, anyway.
"Given this, I'd like you all to swear not to reveal my ability without my explicit permission," Harry stated firmly. Hermione looked hurt, Neville seemed surprised, while the two Slytherin girls showed no reaction.
"But Harry… We're your friends! We wouldn't tell anyone!" Hermione insisted, her gaze steady on him.
"I know, Hermione. But I'm already under enough scrutiny; I don't want additional attention. I trust you, but there's always a chance you might accidentally reveal it. The oath I'm asking for is to safeguard against that." Hermione hesitated but finally nodded.
"Okay, Harry. I understand." She was the first to swear, followed by Neville, and then Draconica and Daphne.
"Potter, you have quite a bit of Slytherin cunning about you," Daphne remarked after the oaths were made. Harry chuckled.
"I'll take it as a compliment. Now, let's get back to our research." They all nodded in agreement and continued their quest to uncover the truth about the beast hidden in the Chamber of Secrets.
~/ *** \~
Unfortunately for the five students, their research was derailed as Hogwarts' faculty devised a new strategy to keep students confined to their common rooms: an avalanche of extra assignments. Even Hermione found little time to spare. At least the Heir of Slytherin seemed to have paused his attacks, granting the school a much-needed sigh of relief.
After three weeks without incident (the last attack having involved Padma and Amanda), the staff decided to reward the students with some fun. A Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was scheduled for the Sunday afternoon that week. Although Harry was obliged to play for his house, Hermione and Neville dedicated themselves to continuing their research on the creature. Draconica and Daphne, however, opted to watch the match with the rest of the school.
The game turned out to be more intense than usual, with both teams giving it their all, unaware that this may be their only chance to play this year—especially if the attacks resumed, leading to the potential closure of Hogwarts.
An hour into the match, both sides had scored over a hundred points (Gryffindor just shy of two hundred), and they showed no signs of slowing down. The chilly Scottish weather, typical for late January, did little to enhance the experience for players or spectators, with biting winds and light, irritating snowfall.
Harry hovered high above the pitch, seeking the elusive Golden Snitch, which was adeptly avoiding detection. Thankful for the warming charms his fellow Chasers had cast on his robes, he concentrated on spotting the gleaming ball. Suddenly, a flash of gold caught his eye, just outside the spectator stands, and he surged toward it, pushing his Nimbus to the max, eager to return to the warmth of the common room. Cedric Diggory, the fifth-year Hufflepuff Seeker, noticed Harry's movement and raced after the Snitch. However, with a slower broom and being further away, he had little chance of matching Harry's speed.
After a relentless chase, Harry was the first to reach the Snitch. Just as he was about to catch it, Madam Hooch's whistle pierced the air, calling for an immediate halt to the match. Although he managed to grasp the small, fluttering ball, he suspected it wouldn't count. He flew down to the pitch's center, where the teams, Madam Hooch, and Professor McGonagall awaited.
The match was canceled due to yet another attack. Harry's worst fears were confirmed when he saw Hermione and Neville petrified in the Hospital Wing, victims of the attacks. Apparently, the "Heir" or their informants had overheard Hermione suggesting her theory about the Chamber's monster during lunch.
Dejected, Harry retreated to the common room, anguished over the fate of his friends and troubled by the realization that he needed to hold the perpetrator accountable for their actions. To make matters worse, the Hogwarts faculty seemed to be doing little to prevent further attacks; it fell upon him to find a solution—one that would end the terror once and for all. However, without Hermione's expertise, unraveling the secrets of the Chamber would be an uphill battle. It was clear he would need to call on Draconica and Daphne for assistance.
During a break between Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, Harry approached the two Slytherin girls, and they reaffirmed their commitment to help him with his research. However, with all the homework and strict curfews in place, they would have to wait until Thursday to convene again.
Frustratingly, the trio found little information on serpents capable of petrifying creatures, even among those that had gone extinct. Basilisks were a close match, but they killed with their gaze, not petrifying their victims, so they were ruled out.
Harry suggested they broaden their research to include other snake-related creatures like chimeras, lamia, or nagas, but time was running out as dinner approached, prompting them to call it a night. They hoped to reconvene and continue their quest for answers before Thursday.
~/ *** \~
As the days passed, the general atmosphere at Hogwarts remained somber. Many students feared they could become the next targets of the elusive Heir of Slytherin—it was now evident that even purebloods and Slytherins were not immune. Additionally, there was still no intelligence regarding the beast attacking students, the location of the Chamber of Secrets, or the identity of this "heir."
In a misguided attempt to lift spirits, Gilderoy Lockhart conceived an idea, which, given his track record, was bound to go awry.
Lockhart's plan became clear on the morning of February 15th (the fourteenth being a Sunday, when the DADA professor preemptively pushed the event forward). Upon entering the Great Hall, Harry momentarily thought he'd entered a different realm: bright pink flowers adorned the walls, and heart-shaped confetti rained down from the pale blue ceiling. Ignoring the absurd decorations, Harry joined his friends at the Gryffindor table.
"What's happening?" he asked, sitting down and brushing confetti off his bacon. The Weasley twins pointed to the staff table, where Lockhart, clad in vibrant pink robes to match the theme, was attempting to silence the crowd. The professors around him wore sour expressions; Professor McGonagall's cheek twitched while Snape looked as though he were confronting the foulest potion imaginable.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted cheerfully. "I want to thank the forty-three lovely souls who sent me cards! Yes, I took the liberty of arranging this little surprise for all of you, and it doesn't stop here!" He clapped his hands, and a dozen dwarfs—who looked decidedly unwilling—marched into the hall. Clad in golden wings and clutching harps, they did little to alleviate the absurdity of the scene. "My delightful card-carrying cupids…" Harry caught a few students snorting at this point. "…will be roaming the school today, delivering your love notes! And the fun doesn't end there! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion?" The potion master shot a glare at the student body that clearly communicated his disdain for such requests. "And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick is the go-to expert on Entrancing Enchantments—what a sly old dog he is!" The diminutive professor buried his face in his hands.
Harry had hoped that aside from enduring Lockhart's twisted version of Valentine's Day during his two classes, he'd be able to dodge any further humiliation. Yet, as fate would have it, his luck had other plans. Just as he was about to head to the Great Hall for lunch, a dwarf latched onto his ankle.
"Oi, you! 'Arry Potter!" the dwarf chimed, plucking his harp threateningly. Struggling to shake the little creature off, Harry quickly discovered it wasn't going to be easy. "Here's your personalized singing valentine: His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, His hair is as dark as a blackboard. I wish he was mine, he's really divine, The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."
"What's happening here?" came the sneering voice of young Malfoy. "Receiving ridiculous love songs from your admirers, are you?" Alas, Theodore Nott chose that moment to pounce, seizing the opportunity to make Malfoy the center of ridicule.
"I knew you had a thing for dark-haired boys, but I never thought you'd swing that way," he taunted. "I think I need to reinforce some security charms on my dormitory door, just to be safe." Malfoy shouted something along the lines of 'my father will hear about this...' before vanishing into the crowd, clearly seeking to escape what little dignity he had left after Nott's jab.
"You owe me a favor for this, Potter," Theodore whispered as Harry made his way toward the Great Hall. "After all, I spared you from that little brat and whatever he had planned to embarrass you." Harry nodded appreciatively, hoping the disastrous Valentine's Day could only improve from there.
~/ *** \~
Back in the library, Harry, Draconica, and Daphne were once again immersed in a sea of tomes on magical creatures, still trying to identify the monster from the Chamber of Secrets. Suddenly, Draconica broke the silence.
"I think it might be a Medusa. After all, they're known for their ability to turn living beings into stone," she suggested, scanning an article from her book.
"No, it's not Medusa," Harry replied, emerging from behind his stack of texts. The two girls exchanged confused glances, although Harry couldn't see them.
"And why not, Potter?" Daphne challenged, poring over the entry on Medusas. "They seem to align with what we know about the creature from the Chamber."
"First off, the last known Medusa was killed around three thousand years ago, long before Hogwarts was founded," Harry explained. "Secondly, according to Greek mythology, their lifespan is roughly fifty years, and they can't hibernate. Unless we're discussing a group, the kind that could sustain their number, they would have died out shortly after the founding of the school."
"And what if there's a group of them living somewhere in the castle?" Daphne countered.
"Aside from the legend stating that only one monster resides in the Chamber..." Harry continued. "Medusas, similar to nagas, possess a human upper body: chances are their offspring wouldn't perfectly replicate their parentage. Thus, if Medusas were the monster in the Chamber, the legend would likely differ. Plus, all documented Medusas were exterminated at least two millennia before Hogwarts' establishment, making it unlikely that Salazar Slytherin found one—let alone several—to inhabit his secret Chamber."
"Now that you mention it…" Daphne conceded. "You're right—Medusa is probably not the answer. But it was still a solid idea, wasn't it?" Harry shrugged, even though the girls couldn't see his noncommittal gesture.
"Alright, let's keep searching." Since they had already combed through most of the magical creature books in the library, it was time to wrap up for the evening.
"What on earth is that creature!" Harry muttered, trying to keep his voice low and not slam the last book on magical beasts shut. "Nothing seems to match what we know about the monster from the Chamber that existed during Salazar's time!" The girls, though equally frustrated, maintained their composure.
"Calm down, Potter. Throwing a fit won't help our situation at all." Daphne said, her tone as cool as ever. Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax as advised.
"With what we've discovered, I can draw two conclusions: either we're missing crucial information and aren't searching for the monster in the right places, or the creature in the Chamber isn't a recognized magical species but something that Salazar himself bred—after all, he was smart enough to pull it off." Harry's assessment was met with a nod from Draconica.
"That could explain why we can't find anything." she concurred. "But do you have any inkling about which of the two scenarios is correct? If we dismissed a viable creature simply due to lack of information, it would be much easier to deal with than a completely unfamiliar monster."
"Are you suggesting we might have to confront it?" Harry asked, wrestling with the notion of facing whatever creature was lurking in the shadows. While he harbored the desire for the Heir to face consequences for the attacks on Neville and Hermione, he wasn't reckless enough to charge down into the Chamber and battle a terrifying unknown.
"No, when I say 'we,' I mean everyone at the castle. But wouldn't the professors find themselves in a similar predicament? Aside from their knowledge and experience, they don't have any superpowers we lack," the blonde witch replied. Harry nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, that's true." He mused, tapping his temple. "And for some reason, I feel like I should know what those critical details are but can't seem to pinpoint them."
"Don't worry, Potter. It will all work out—just be careful not to become the next victim."
"Gee, thanks." Harry chuckled lightly. "With our research hitting a dead end, I think we should wrap it up for now and await fresh information." Both girls nodded in agreement. "Take care. See you tomorrow." With that, he vanished under his invisibility cloak; it was best not to be seen wandering the corridors alone.