Chapter 47
The tension in Hogwarts had been growing with each passing week. More students were being petrified, and the fear that had started as murmurs in the halls had turned into outright panic.
Even in Ravenclaw Tower, where students prided themselves on logic and reason, the mood was grim. Whispers spread through the common room—speculation, fear, and unease.
Then, Lockhart decided to host a Dueling Club.
Harry had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t go well.
---
The Great Hall, That Evening
Students gathered around the long platform at the center of the hall, buzzing with excitement. At the front stood Professor Lockhart, grinning like a showman about to perform a magic trick. Beside him, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, was Professor Snape.
“Gather round, gather round!” Lockhart called, raising his hands theatrically. “Dueling is an art, my dear students, and tonight, you shall witness the best of it!”
Snape sneered. “We’ll see.”
Lockhart and Snape demonstrated a duel—though Snape’s Disarming Spell sent Lockhart flying into a wall.
The students barely stifled their laughter.
Harry crossed his arms, unimpressed.
After Lockhart scrambled to his feet, he cheerfully brushed himself off and declared, “Now, time to practice! Everyone, pair up!”
---
Harry found himself partnered with Terry Boot.
“Go easy on me,” Terry joked, raising his wand.
Harry smirked. “No promises.”
They lifted their wands, but before they could even cast a spell—
A commotion erupted across the platform.
Draco Malfoy and some Gryffindor—probably Weasley—had just blasted their spells.
And one of them had summoned—
A snake.
It slithered forward, hissing aggressively at the students.
Panic spread in the crowd. Some screamed, others scrambled back.
But Harry—
Harry understood it.
“Stay still.”
The words left his lips before he even thought about it.
The snake’s head snapped toward him. It froze, its aggression vanishing instantly.
Gasps filled the hall.
Harry turned, confused.
Then he saw their faces.
Terry had gone pale. Hermione and Ron were staring at him. Even Malfoy looked stunned.
“Potter…” someone whispered.
He didn’t understand at first.
Then he realized—
They hadn’t heard what he’d said in English.
They’d heard him hissing.
Speaking Parseltongue.
Harry’s stomach dropped.