Parselmouth
“What’s going on here?” Filch snapped, elbowing his way through the crowd. He froze when he saw Mrs. Norris, before he wailed, rushing over as Professor Jackson handed her over to him, whispering reassuring words to the distraught caretaker.
“No, no, no, not Mrs. Norris,” Filch moaned with despair, rocking as he cradled the cat.
“It’s okay, Argus,” Professor Jackson said. “She’s not dead, just petrified. We can fix this, I’m certain, okay?”
Professor Dumbledore swept up, took in the scene, before walking over to the separate group.
“Come with me, Argus,” he said gently. “You as well, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasly, Ms. Granger. If you would as well, professors.”
He turned back to the crowd.
“No need to panic, we will have this under control in no time. Please, prefects, lead the students to their houses.”
“You can use my office,” Lockhart sprang forward as the students shuffled off. “It’s closest!”
“Thank you, Gilderoy,” Professor Dumbledore said, leading the way. Professor Jackson helped Filch off as Professor Chase and Mrs. O’Leary corralled the trio of students along. Lockhart– looking important and excited– followed after Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Snape rushing over as well.
Lockhart’s office was dark, but there was a flurry of movement as all the painting-Lockharts scurried out of frame, their hair in rollers. Lockhart swiftly lit some candles. Dumbledore had Filch place Mrs. Norris on the polished wood desk, leaning over her, poking and prodding as he examined the cat. McGonagall leaned close as well, also examining. Snape stood half illuminated, seeming like he was trying hard to suppress a smile. Lockhart paced importantly as he called out theories.
“It was definitely a curse that killed her– probably the Transmorgification Torture–”
“She’s not dead,” Professor Chase deadpanned, drawing the attention of the teachers. “Her heartbeat is slow, but it’s not gone. She’s been petrified. Powerfully, too, none of the counter curses Percy and I know worked.”
Filch shook with draw, body-racking sobs. Pip popped up, handing the poor man some hot cocoa as Professor Jackson rubbed his back, black hair spilling slightly over his shoulder as he whispered reassurances. Mrs. O’Leary whined and gently butted the man’s leg, even as she laid flat in front of the trio of students. Even though Harry didn’t like Filch at all– a mutual feeling– he couldn’t help but feel bad. Mrs. Norris was very important to the man.
“The good Professor Chase is right, Argus,” Dumbledore stated as he straightened. “She’s most certainly been petrified. A most advanced, Dark version of it, but Professor Sprout is growing mandrakes this year, and will be able to cure her easily once they’ve matured.”
“Will she last that long?” Filch asked mournfully, taking a stuttering sip of his cocoa. Pip patted his knee comfortingly before they popped away.
“Yes,” Professor Jackson reassured immediately. “Petrification of this caliber, that lasts this longs, slows and ceases all but the necessary bodily functions, it will even keep the victim from growing hungry. She’ll be fine, just frozen until we cure her.”
Filch blubbered, taking the handkerchief Professor Chase handed him. Dumbledore nodded.
“Quite right.”
“If I may, Headmaster,” Snape said. “I doubt Potter and his friends have the capabilities to do this. However, I must question what on earth he was doing there, why he wasn’t at the Halloween feast?”
Harry couldn’t help but notice how it had gone from all three of them to just him. Snape was sneering at him like always.
“We were at Sir Nick’s Deathday party,” Hermione sniffed.
“Why did you not return to the feast afterwards?” Snape asked, black eyes glinting in the candlelight. “Why go up that corridor?”
“Because by the time we got to the Great Hall the feast would have been over,” Professor Chase said cooly. Snape scowled at her.
“So, they were wandering around then?” Snape said with a nasty smile.
“No,” Professor Jackson said. “Annabeth and I were taking them to the dorm from the party. Pip was going to bring them some dinner once we got them to Gryffindor Tower. We were with them the entire time.”
Snape’s nasty grin fell into a deep scowl at the alibi. Harry felt quite triumphant. If he hadn’t liked Professor Jackson before, he certainly did now. Speaking of, the man stood.
“I’ll take them back to their dorm as you discuss this issue,” he said, walking over. He paused by Professor Chase, stunning the three students when he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, before he continued towards the door. He patted his leg and Mrs. O’Leary sprang up.
“Come on, you three. It’s been quite a night, let’s get some food, eh?”
The three scrambled after him eagerly. They walked in silence for a bit, before Professor Jackson leaned over slightly.
“Harry, about that voice-”
“I really heard it, I swear!” Harry defended immediately. Professor Jackson threw up his hands in surrender, laughing.
“I’m sure! I was just saying, do you know what kind of creatures you can speak to? Because that could help us lower the search.”
“Creatures?” Hermione asked curiously. Professor Jackson shrugged.
“Yeah. Harry said the voice was moving, which suggests it wasn’t thoughts sent right to his head. That means it was a creature that we couldn’t hear, but Harry could.”
Hermione nodded slowly.
“I don’t think I can talk to animals, professor,” Harry said helplessly. Professor Jackson gave him a knowing smile.
“So, you’ve never had any odd encounters with any animals? Never thought you’d heard one.”
The boa constrictor from Dudley’s birthday came to mind immediately.
“Yes!” He gasped. “There was this boa constrictor in the zoo! I accidentally let it out– honest accident I swear– and it thanked me! I thought it was just my imagination!”
Ron and Hermione looked startled. Ron paled a little bit. But Professor Jackson just nodded.
“Okay. Ever talk to any other animals?”
Harry thought long and hard, brows crinkling. “..no. No, just the garden snakes in Aunt Petunia’s garden, now that I think about it.”
Professor Jackson had a triumphant grin on his face.
“Perfect! We’ve narrowed it down to some kind of snake then!” He said happily as they arrived at the tower. “I’ll be sure to tell the other professors. We’ll have this solved in no time. Thanks for your help! Remember to call Pip for some dinner, okay?”
Harry nodded with a smile, saying the password. It was refreshing after last year, seeing a teacher taking up an active role in solving a problem like this. The common room was empty by the time the trio entered, so they called Pip and asked for some food, which the house-elf happily supplied.
“What’s with you?” Harry asked with concern as Ron ate slowly, still looking pale.
“Harry, mate,” he started slowly, looking around before leaning over and asking quietly. “You can talk with snakes?”
“Apparently,” Harry shrugged. “Never really noticed until now I suppose.”
“You’re a parselmouth!”
“That’s what it’s called? Cool!”
“Harry,” Hermione said tentatively. “You-Know-Who was a parselmouth.”
Harry cocked his head at her. “So?”
“It’s a Dark ability!” Ron squeaked. Harry frowned.
“Well... It’s just another language, isn’t it?”
Hermione opened her mouth, before closing it, tilting her head in consideration. Ron gaped for a moment, before he sighed, setting down his fork.
“Okay, look, technically you're right, but… well, Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth as well so it… well… people don’t really…” Ron struggled as he looked for words.
“They think of it as a Dark ability,” Hermione completed. “It’s got a lot of stigma and fear around it. So… maybe try and keep that from being spoken around others?”
Harry shrugged again. “I’ll try but to be honest I can’t really tell the difference between it and English.”
Hermione nodded with a considering look. Harry got a feeling he’d know the difference by the end of the year.
The trio finished their food, thanking Pip with gusto when they came to collect the plates before heading up to their respective dorms. Harry worried at his lip.
“Hey, Ron?”
“Hm?”
“The whole parselmouth thing… it doesn’t… you don’t think any differently of me because of it… do you?”
Ron turned around, looking startled.
“No! Promise, mate. Like you said, it’s just a language. Sorry for the earlier reaction, I just haven’t heard many good stories of it. But I know you, Harry. You’re a good guy.”
Harry sighed heavily, smiling at Ron. He returned it. The two grinning friends continued up the stairs to their dorm.