Chapter 23: Parseltongue, Diligent Hermione
Chapter 23: Parseltongue, Diligent Hermione
“No, this can't be!”
When Hermione relayed Felix's words to Harry and Ron, Harry angrily argued back.
He didn't want to admit that he had an ancestor who could speak to rats!
Harry felt that his first week at Hogwarts had been a disaster. He was grounded for driving the car across Britain, forced to deal with Lockhart's opportunistic behavior, and constantly encountering the enthusiastic photographer Colin, not to mention the grueling Quidditch training.
And yesterday, he was grounded again, forced to write letters to Lockhart's fans one after another, non-stop for four hours!
But that wasn't the worst part. In Lockhart's office, he heard intermittent voices, "Kill you... tear... death..."
When he mentioned this to the two of them this morning, their expressions made it seem like he had finally gone mad. Hermione then volunteered to ask Professor Hup, and the answer she got was a bit disheartening.
“It’s not necessarily so, mate. I’ve heard similar rumors,” Ron whispered, pulling a fat, listless rat from his pocket. “Why don't you try talking to Scabbers?”
Ron held Scabbers out to Harry with a hopeful look in his eyes.
Harry had to lower his head to make eye contact with the rat. “Can you understand what I'm saying?”
Scabbers rolled its eyes and turned away.
“Harry, don't speak in human language! What you just said was still human language,” Ron said.
Harry: “...” I know what you mean, but can you be a bit more refined?
He tried again a dozen more times, but the rat showed no reaction at all. “It doesn’t work!” he sighed in relief.
Fortunately, things hadn’t taken the worst possible turn.
Hermione, watching the commotion, chimed in, “Harry, Professor Hup was just giving an example. There are other possibilities.”
Ron disagreed, “What else could it be besides rats? It can’t be bugs, right?”
That thought was even more terrifying. Harry shuddered and quickly tried to change the subject.
“Maybe it’s a snake!”
“A snake?”
Ron and Hermione fell silent, exchanging strange looks.
“You mean, you can talk to snakes?” Ron swallowed hard.
Harry didn’t notice their reaction and excitedly recounted his experience at the zoo before starting school, where he had spoken to a snake.
“A large python told you it had never been to Brazil?” Ron’s voice was weak.
“So what? I bet a lot of people can do that! It’s just like what Professor Hup mentioned, that... talent!”
Ron didn’t say anything, but Hermione whispered, “Harry, speaking to snakes is a mark of Salazar Slytherin. This ability is called Parseltongue, which is why the symbol of Slytherin House is a snake.”
“But I’m not,” Harry said, somewhat lost. He suddenly remembered the Sorting Hat’s strong recommendation for him to choose Slytherin House during the Sorting. Thinking of this, Harry tightly closed his mouth.
“It’s okay, mate,” Ron said, trying to sound casual as he patted Harry’s shoulder. “Pureblood Wizards often marry within their own families. Maybe you’re a great-great-great-grandchild of Slytherin.”
Seeing that Harry wasn’t relaxing at all, Ron added, “Really, if you trace it back, most Pureblood Wizard families are related. I’m even related to Malfoy.”
“You and Malfoy?” Harry was shocked.
Ron shrugged, “There are only so many Pureblood Wizards, and it’s normal for them to intermarry. To be honest, true Purebloods are long gone. They couldn’t have lasted this long.”
Harry finally calmed down.
“Harry, it’s best not to tell anyone else about this,” Hermione suggested.
Harry nodded, determined not to say a word. He didn’t want to be associated with Slytherin.
Hermione then steered the conversation back on track, “Since you’re a Parseltongue, the voice you heard that day was likely a snake. It might have been moving through the cracks in the walls.”
In the young witch's mind, a snake was at most as thick as a wrist.
"But I heard it talking about death, killing, and tearing you apart."
"Maybe it was hunting? You know, catching some mice or bugs or something." Ron speculated.
Without any evidence, the trio had no choice but to drop the matter.
After all, it wasn't a big deal!
"Hermione, how's your essay coming along?" Harry asked.
"Oh no!"
Hermione let out a loud cry and quickly left, leaving the two of them standing there in shock.
"Is Hermione starting to lose it from all the reading? I've never seen her like this before." Ron said.
Harry shrugged.
Library.
Hermione occupied a large table all by herself, surrounded by thick books. In front of her was a piece of parchment, and she was furiously writing.
There were less than ten hours before the library closed, so she might have to pull an all-nighter.
Come on, Hermione! She encouraged herself.
So far, she had managed to read twelve books, but only in a cursory manner. She had only retained about half of the content, which was far from her usual standards. She hadn't even memorized it all yet.
For her essay, she had to reluctantly abandon her reading habits. However, she had decided that once she submitted her essay, she would revisit the books and memorize the content.
She flipped through the pages, using her quill to jot down suitable arguments and evidence. She was so engrossed that she didn't even notice Madam Pince passing by her several times.
She stayed until the library closed, finally finishing 16 books. She took the remaining four books and her thick parchment, yawning and staggering back to the common room.
She planned to study through the night.
Pushing open the door to the common room, she found that the other young wizards had already gone to bed, leaving only two people behind.
"Harry, Ron?" Hermione was surprised.
"Hey, we didn't see you at dinner, so we figured you hadn't gone. This is for you." Ron pointed to the table in front of him, where there was food wrapped in parchment, the outer layer soaked with oil.
Hermione covered her mouth, trying hard not to cry.
Harry smiled, "We can't help you with your essay, but this is what we can do. Come on, Hermione, you're the smartest person I've ever known."
Hermione nodded vigorously.
The two left, and Hermione opened the parchment. Inside were two pies, which she ate in large bites.
In the quiet common room, she was alone.
The next day, Monday, Hermione was in a daze all day. During Transfiguration practice, she almost chose Harry as her transfiguration subject.
By lunchtime, she had to visit the hospital wing.
In the afternoon, she had no classes, so she planned to finish the last two books. After staying up all night, she had completed her essay, but she felt it was essential to finish reading the books, as they might add some new content to her essay.
But she was exhausted. When Harry finished his Quidditch practice, he found Hermione sleeping in the common room.
"Hermione, Hermione?"
"Harry?" Hermione opened her sleepy eyes. Her hair was even more frizzy and looked messy.
She quickly woke up and let out a scream, "What time is it, Harry? What time is it?"
"Eight-thirty, Hermione." Fred, who had just finished training, replied, "I'll never forget Wood, this jerk. On the first weekend of the term, we trained until eight o'clock. And starting from the second week, he got even worse."
Wood, standing nearby, had a black line across his face, "I'm still here!"
Not just him, the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team was there, covered in mud and too tired to speak.
Hermione jumped up and rushed out, but she quickly turned back to quickly tidy up the parchment on the table, muttering to herself. Once she confirmed everything was in order, she grabbed her bag and quickly disappeared from the sight of everyone.
"What a diligent and studious girl", Angelina, one of the players, commented.
(End of Chapter)
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