A Potter Secret

To Plan a Brew

From the defiled wall to the bathroom door. A gloomy place. Cracked mirrors. Chipped sinks. Guttering candles. Harry and Ron huddle over a small, bubbling cauldron, as Hermione adds strange ingredients. "Again? You mean, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" Hermione asks.

"Of course! Don't you see? Lucius Malfoy must've opened it when he was at school here, and now he's told Draco how to do it," Ron replies.

"Maybe. We'll have to wait for the Polyjuice Potion to know for sure," Hermione says.

"Enlighten me. Why are we brewing this potion in broad daylight, in the middle of a girls' lavatory? Don't you think we'll get caught?" Ron questions.

"Never. No one over comes in here," Isabella assures as she helps Hermione prepare ingredients.

"Why?"

"Moaning Myrtle."

"Who's Moaning Myrtle?"

There is a loud, piercing screech, and the ghost of a young girl comes racing out of the wall. Face to face with Ron. "I'm Moaning Myrtle. I wouldn't expect you to know me. Who would ever talk about fat, ugly, miserable, moping, moaning Myrtle?" Myrtle shouts.

Myrtle sobs loudly, dives head first into the toilet. "She's a little sensitive," Hermione explains.

"But don't worry, she's really nice if you don't upset her!" Isabella smiles.

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Professor Snape has joined Lockhart in a dueling hall. "Let me introduce my assistant Professor Snape. He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration. Now I don't want any of you youngsters to worry. You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him, never fear!" Lockhart cheers.

"What's the fun in that?" Ron asks.

Lockhart and Snape face each other and bow. They turn, walk ten paces, then, spin, wands poised like swords. "As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course," Lockhart instructs.

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry says, eyeing Snape suspiciously.

"One-two-three-" Lockhart counts, flamboyantly.

"Expelliarmus!" Snape casts.

A dazzling flash of scarlet light bursts forth and blasts Lockhart off his feet and into the wall behind. "Do you think he's all right?" Hermione asks.

"Who cares?" Harry and Ron smile.

"Well, there you have it. That was a Disarming Charm. As you see, I've lost my wand," Lockhart instructs. Hermione returns the wand. "Ah, thank you, Miss Granger. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy-"

"Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, Professor," Snape suggests.

"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape. Let's have a volunteer pair. Potter, Weasley, how about you?" Lockhart asks.

"Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own house. Malfoy, perhaps," Snape replies.

Malfoy and Harry eye each other malevolently as they take their places onstage. Grudgingly, they bow to each other. "Scared, Potter?" Draco asks.

"You wish," Harry replies.

They turn, walk ten paces, then whirl, wands poised. "Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent, only to disarm. We don't want any accidents. One, two- Malfoy fires early, knocking Harry off his feet with a blast of white light. He jumps up, points his wand," Lockhart instructs.

"Rictusempra!" Harry casts.

A jet of silver light hits Malfoy dead in the stomach. He doubles up, wheezing. "I said disarm only!" Lockhart reminds.

"Serpensortia!" Draco shouts.

To Harry's horror, the tip of Malfoy's wand explodes and a long black snake slithers forth. Snape smiles with amusement. "Don't move, Potter. I'll get rid of it for you," Snape says.

"Allow me!" Lockhart calls.

Lockhart flicks his wand. Bang! The snake flies into the air, hisses in rage, and slithers straight towards Justin Finch-Fletchley. As students scream, Harry, oddly calm, approaches the snake. It rises, fangs exposed, poised to strike Justin. "Leave him!" Harry hisses in parseltongue. The snake looks into Harry's eyes, then turns for Justin. "LEAVE HIM!"

The snake hovers a moment more, then, miraculously, slumps to the floor. Harry blinks, as if coming out of a trance, grins curiously at the snake, and offers his hand to Justin. "What are you playing at?" Justin demands.

Terrified, Justin backs away. Confused, Harry eyes the faces around him. Malfoy looks shocked. Seamus and Neville's eyes glitter with fear. Ginny bolts the room. Snape waves his wand and the snake vanishes in puff of black smoke, then regards Harry with a look that is both shrewd and calculating. "Come on. Move. Now," Ron drags.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ron and Hermione usher Harry into the common room. Harry glances up, sees Ginny Weasley staring down at him from the top of the stairs. As their eyes meet, she turns for the girls' dormitory. "You're a Parselmouth! Why didn't you tell us?" Ron demands.

"I'm a what?" Harry asks.

"You can talk to snakes," Hermione clarifies.

"I know. I mean, I accidentally set a python on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once. But so what? I bet loads of people here can do it," Harry says, trying to convince himself.

"No. They can't. It's not a very common gift, Harry. This is bad," Hermione explains.

"What's bad? If I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin-" Harry starts.

"Oh, that's what you said to it," Ron interrupts.

"You were there! You heard me!" Harry shouts.

"I heard you speaking Parseltongue. Snake language," Ron reminds.

"I spoke a different language? But I didn't realize, how can I speak a language without knowing I can?" Harry asks.

"I don't know, Harry. But it sounded like you were egging the snake on or something. It was, creepy," Hermione says. As Gryffindors stream into the room, they eye Harry warily. Even Seamus, Neville, and Dean Thomas walk by without a word. "Harry, listen out me. There's a reason the symbol of Slytherin house is a serpent. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth. He could talk to snakes too."

"Exactly. And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great grandson or something," Ron says.

"But I'm not. I, can't be," Harry replies.

"He lived a thousand years ago. For all we know, you could be," Hermione realizes.

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