As Julien and Rosier left the stage, he felt Snape's eyes tracking him the whole way. That look was impossible to read—like the professor was seeing the ghost of someone he used to know.
"Next," Lockhart's voice boomed again, "let's bring up two more students. How about Harry Potter? And we'll need one more…"
Before Lockhart could finish scanning the Hufflepuff crowd, Snape cut in coldly. "I'll pick an opponent for Mr. Potter. Malfoy—get up here."
Both boys looked thrilled, like they'd been waiting for this fight all year.
"Crush him, Harry!" / "End him, Draco!" The two sides cheered from their tables.
The duel went wrong from the very first second.
Malfoy wore that signature smug, punchable smirk. He took his sweet time straightening his cuffs, like he was stepping onto a runway instead of a dueling platform.
Harry was nervous, but his wand hand stayed steady, green eyes burning with determination.
"Ready, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't look too pathetic—you are the Boy Who Lived, after all."
"Shut up, Malfoy."
"Begin!" Lockhart shouted. "Standard spells only, everyone!"
"Expelliarmus!" Both cast at the same time. Harry's magic hit harder.
The spells collided and Malfoy went flying backward. Snape's face twisted in fury. He grabbed Malfoy by the collar and shoved him forward. "Again!"
Malfoy's grin turned vicious, like he'd just been given permission. His wand slashed down. "Serpensortia!"
Boom!
The floor split open. A huge black snake erupted from the crack—king cobra style, scales gleaming coldly under the lanterns.
It reared up, forked tongue flickering crimson, hissing in a way that made everyone's skin crawl.
Screams ripped through the Great Hall. First-years in the front row scrambled backward.
Harry froze, stunned.
"Don't move!" Lockhart's face went bone-white—he clearly hadn't expected an actual deadly snake. "Let me handle this… uh… Vipera Evanesca!"
He waved his wand wildly. The snake shot upward, slammed back down.
It only made the thing angrier. The cobra hissed louder, neck swelling, triangular head flaring to maximum size.
The snake ignored Lockhart completely. It slowly turned toward Harry, yellow slit-pupils locked on the skinny boy.
Harry's scar exploded with pain—not fear, but some weird resonance.
He stared at the open mouth, at the hissing, and words he had never learned suddenly filled his head.
"Stop…" he muttered, but what came out was: "Sss… sss…"
Not human speech. Ancient. Cold. Pure snake.
Even weirder—the black cobra actually stopped advancing. It turned away from Harry and slithered toward the other students.
Its new target was Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff. The snake reared again, ready to strike.
In a panic Harry shouted at it, "Listen, leave him alone!" But to everyone else it still sounded like angry hissing.
The whole hall went deathly quiet.
Justin stood frozen, like he'd already been hit with a Petrificus Totalus.
Every single person stared at Harry in horror—including Ron and Hermione.
Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth. Ron's face drained of color.
Parseltongue. Salazar Slytherin's signature. The mark of Dark wizards.
"Oh Merlin…" Lockhart stumbled back and nearly tripped over his own robes.
"Enough." Snape's voice sliced through the silence like ice. He strode forward, wand flicking. "Finite Incantatem!"
The black snake dissolved into a wisp of smoke.
His gaze lingered on Harry for one second—shock, disgust, and something almost like worry.
"Class dismissed," Snape announced coldly. "Everyone back to your common rooms immediately. What happened here is not to be discussed."
Justin, finally snapping out of it, shouted at Harry in pure terror and rage: "What kind of sick game are you playing?!"
Then he spun and bolted from the hall, not giving Harry a chance to explain.
His Hufflepuff friends shot Harry hateful looks and followed.
Harry just stood there, completely lost.
"Did you hear? Potter's a Parselmouth!"
"He must be Slytherin's heir!"
"No wonder he survived You-Know-Who—maybe he's the bigger Dark Lord."
As Julien and Rosier left with the crowd, whispers followed them everywhere.
At a quiet corner they spotted Harry, Hermione, and Ron huddled together. Everyone else gave them a wide berth.
"Harry, you never told us you're a Parselmouth?" Ron asked.
"A what?"
"Parselmouth… someone who can talk to snakes," Hermione explained, biting her lip.
"I was just telling the snake not to attack Justin!"
"But all we heard was hissing, Harry. Really scary hissing," Ron said.
"I didn't even know!" Harry looked miserable. "I was just talking normally."
"That ability is Slytherin's own mark," Rosier cut in quietly. "Only the darkest wizards ever—"
The trio jumped. They relaxed the second they saw Julien and Rosier.
Julien put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Hermione, Ron—you know Harry. You know what kind of person he is."
"But… but…"
"Power isn't good or evil," Julien interrupted. "It's how you use it. Harry just stopped that snake from hurting anyone, right?"
Hermione blinked, then nodded slowly, thinking.
"Thanks, Julien," Harry said, genuinely grateful. Julien was the first person who actually got it.
"No problem. Hey, Harry—can you do that snake language on purpose now?"
"Why would I?"
"Just try, yeah?"
Harry stared at the floor for a long moment, then gave a small nod. "I think so."
"Awesome. Teach me a couple words later."
"You want to learn Parseltongue?" all three asked at once. Harry had thought Julien understood him; now it seemed like he just thought it was cool.
"Just the pronunciation, haha. See you guys."
"He looked… kinda happy about it," Ron muttered as they walked away.
Around the next corner, Rosier grabbed Julien's sleeve and pulled him aside.
She leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Spill it. What scheme are you cooking up this time?"
"Guess."
"You know something, don't you?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "About the Chamber. Parseltongue is the key to opening it, right?"
"Can't hide anything from you."
"Hmph. You've been hunting that meteorite. The best hiding spot in the whole castle would be the Chamber. How do you know it's tied to Parseltongue?"
"Black family secrets. Legend says Slytherin's Chamber can only be opened by a Parselmouth. Everyone knows he was one."
(If Hermione had been there, she would've noticed Julien unconsciously rubbing his nose.)
"What about Harry?"
"He's definitely not the heir."
---
Second-floor girls' bathroom.
A short, plump, bespectacled female ghost floated inside one of the toilets. She had her upper body draped over the rim, chin resting on the cold porcelain, watching water droplets ripple with endless boredom.
Suddenly a black object sailed into the stall, passed straight through her head, and landed beside her.
It was a plain black notebook.