Hogwarts event: Ye Old Renaissance Festival. Write about someone studying an almost completely lost subject. Optional prompt: Regulus Black.
This takes place during Regulus's seventh year, when Emma thinks he's slightly AWOL, between chapters 70 and 79 in A Tale of Two Sides, but can be read as a one-shot.
It was one o'clock in the morning on the first day of Christmas break, and Regulus Black was holed up in the Lestrange library, poring over long lost History books.
His lips moved in unnatural syllables as he tried to decipher the text. The failed results of his project so far littered the desk and the floor around him, some torn up in frustration.
He hadn't lied to his friends when he said that he was working on his History of Magic N.E.W.T. - a twenty to twenty five foot paper on the subject of their choice. He just hadn't told them why - or what - he was researching.
Parseltongue. The language of the serpent. Also known as the most recognisable hallmark of a Dark wizard, or alternatively, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin.
Whilst Professor Binns appreciated every N.E.W.T student that applied for his course - and none were more enthusiastic than Regulus Black - the seventh year Slytherin didn't think that everyone would see his research as purely academic.
He didn't like keeping secrets from Emma and Rabastan, but he was so used to keeping others' secrets that it was surprisingly easy to have a few of his own.
They might believe him if he said he merely wanted to study the Dark Lord, find out how he grew so powerful, what his origins were, but researching the Dark Lord's origins was risky. Even more so was Regulus's interest in Horcruxes.
His own Occlumency walls were as strong as they came. He preferred to keep to the safety of those walls.
However, he had hit a wall with the Horcruxes. Whilst he knew what they were, and how - in theory - they were made, he had no idea how many the Dark Lord had, where they were, or even what form they took. Hopefully, learning Parseltongue would remedy the hole in his knowledge.
It was easier said than done.
There were few forms of Parseltongue in written form, and even fewer translations. It was the language of the elite, of the few, and it seemed that their speakers preferred to keep it that way.
Tonight though, he had made a breakthrough. The Lestranges had a copy of the original works of Paracelsus, famous alchemist and discoverer of Parseltongue. Many of the tomes in the Black library referenced this material, and now that he had his hands on it, he hoped his study rate would improve.
Parseltongue, more commonly known as Salazar's tongue, is the preferred method of communication between snakes of different species. For the Squamata, or the scaled reptiles, the language allows different species to communicate basic commands or warnings, such as the location of food, the nearest watering hole, or danger.
The earliest known wizard to speak the language dates back to Ancient Greece with Herpo the Foul. Along with Salazar Slytherin, he is most famous for his unnatural command of snakes and lizards, though the latter are rarely found in England today.
It may be interesting to note that the association between Parseltongue and the Dark Arts is founded in the belief that the language is used in the making of Horcruxes, commonly known as the Darkest form of magic in existence. This is due to the fact that Herpo the Foul is also credited with making the first successful Horcrux.
Regulus stopped reading, his heart pounding six times faster than the norm. His breathing quickened, and he quickly looked around the room to make sure no one was there, although the Lestranges were out and Rabastan was busy polishing up his duelling skills in the study ahead of the raid on Monday.
If he strained his ears, he could faintly hear Rabastan's voice speaking the incantations and the thud of furniture being moved. Just to be careful, he cast Muffliato on the door, courtesy of Severus Snape, and an Alarm Jinx. Locking the door would have been too suspicious, but Regulus needed absolute silence - and the assurance of not being heard - in order to make his project work.
Taking a deep breath, Regulus turned the pages until he found the bases of the language. As it was composed of hissing sounds and soft syllables, it was hard to write down the correct phonetics, and even harder to reproduce them.
Perhaps I am attempting to run before I walk, he mused, after several failed attempts. The book said that I would know immediately if I managed to reproduce the sounds. But maybe I need to understand what it is that I am saying first.
One month later, Regulus was back at Hogwarts. His Prefect status technically allowed him access to anywhere on the grounds whilst he was on patrol, and he intended to use this time to his advantage, as Remus Lupin failed to show up for duty that night.
Let the students have one night of freedom, he thought. I have bigger snakes to fry.
He had spent as much free time as possible on learning how snakes communicated between each other, even going so far as to ask Professor Binns access to the Restricted Section and asking a couple of castle ghosts about experiences he had read about in their past lives.
Apparently, snakes released chemical substances to communicate by smell as well as hearing. Wizards possessing the inherent knowledge of Parseltongue had a sort of sixth sense that allowed them to understand the chemical undercurrent of the words.
This was remedied through a spell invented by Paracelsus, though Regulus had been dubious about the permanency of its nature. In the end, it hadn't affected his sense of smell at all, thankfully.
Now, it was time to test his knowledge, separating the sounds from each other by listening to the water snakes that liked to nap on the self-heating rocks around their pool in Greenhouse 6 - Professor Sprout believed their venom could cure some kind of poisonous plant if properly distilled.
Pulling his cloak hood over his head - even though he was technically allowed out, Regulus didn't want to take any chances - the slight Slytherin slipped out of the Entrance Hall and made for the greenhouses, keeping to the shadows of the castle.
He cursed at the light shining down from the full moon, and as if on cue, a cloud passed over the sky.
Finally, a bit of luck, he thought, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
In the greenhouse, Regulus cast a simple Sonorus on the snakes and settled down to listen.
'Ssspell needsss renewing,' one of them hissed. ''ss not warm ssss...'
Regulus lost the end of the sentence. Another snake nodded, its body undulating with the movement.
'Why…sss…go?' another one asked.
Regulus realised that the chemical spell was what was letting him understand that the sentence was phrased as a question. He leant forward eagerly, glancing down every so often at his notes to make sense of the conversation.
'No ssun,' another snake seemed to hiss angrily, as though berating the second. Suddenly, all three turned to Regulus. 'What'sss thiss?'
Regulus panicked for a moment, but it seemed that the snakes were just curious. He flipped through his papers, looking for words.
'My…Reguluss,' he finished half-heartedly. There was no word in parseltongue for his name, so he had no idea how to translate. Plus, he was pretty sure that he had botched his "I am". Still, he tried to continue. 'My…wantsss…learn.'
Several seconds passed. Regulus waited with baited breath, slowly drawing his wand from within his left sleeve. He wanted to learn Parseltongue, not be bitten by a snake and have to go to Pomfrey, who would only have questions.
Suddenly, one of the snakes rose up, drawing its head back as if to lunge. Instead, it rapidly tasted the air with its tongue once, twice, three times, until Regulus realised that the snake was not preparing to attack him, but laughing at him.
'Releassse usss,' the snake offered. 'And we... sss... learn.'
The first flowers had shown their face in the month of March before Regulus managed to understand most of what the snakes said. He still couldn't speak the language himself, having to constantly refer to his notes and sound out the syllables the snakes taught him, but it was good enough. After all, he didn't want to become a Parselmouth, only learn enough to understand the secrets of Slytherin's descendants and - an added bonus - understand better how Horcruxes could be made and unmade.
'We have held up our part of the bargain,' Scitalis hissed, the syllables rumbling and overlapping. Regulus had learnt that she was the leader of the three snakes. 'Now it is time for yoursss.'
'I understand,' Regulus said, having prepared his speech beforehand. 'I will take you to the Great Lake,' he said, stumbling a little over the syllables. He paused to re-read his notes again. 'The Ssquid will take care of you. He can take you to the warm part of the water.'
It seemed that his broken Parseltongue was good enough, since the three snakes nodded in that fluid manner of theirs.
'Thanksss,' Ramidus said, and Regulus was touched to realise that he could hear the warm undertones of his hisses.
Voices could be heard from in front of the greenhouses, as students jostled and yelled before their next class. Second years, Regulus thought to himself, rolling his eyes.
He opened his school bag, taking out the large cylinder of warm water he had asked Kreacher to bring. He dipped it into the pond, and the three snakes glided in. Leaving the lid off, Regulus hid the container within his robes and grasped a diagram of a Venomous Tentacula in the other. The second years wouldn't even know the difference between the different plants in the greenhouse.
He quickly walked out of the greenhouse, taking care to show his books and diagram in the one hand to seem inconspicuous. As predicted, the younger students didn't even bat an eyelid.
At the Great Lake, Regulus suddenly found himself reluctant to release the snakes. He slowly removed the container, dipping half into the cold Great Lake to prevent the snakes being shocked by the change in temperature. As it was, they weren't happy, wriggling around.
'What are you doing?' Ramidus asked pitifully, fear evident in his tones. 'Thisss wasn't the deal.'
'Don't worry,' Regulus said, but didn't have more prepared. 'Don't worry,' he repeated aimlessly.
With his free hand, he took a large slab of meat out of his schoolbag, also courtesy of Kreacher. He threw it with all of his might into the water, hoping that the Giant Squid would be able to smell it quickly.
Sure enough, the huge creature emerged, its beak tearing the meat to shreds.
'I need you to take these snakes to safety, like we agreed,' Regulus said clearly, his voice carrying with the wind. 'I won't forget our agreement. I'll be here every week with the same again.'
For a moment, Regulus thought the Squid would ignore him, but then a giant tentacle gently wrapped itself around the cylinder containing the snakes, dragging it across the water before plunging to the depths of the lake.
His task accomplished, Regulus sat back, contemplating the ripples across the water's surface. He was one step closer to bringing the Dark Lord down. He was one step closer to redeeming himself for past crimes committed.
But he was also three steps closer to being alone.