Italics are parseltongue, by the way...
Chapter 4 – The Troll Incident – Part I
Harry Potter was not in a good mood. Since the "Fluffy incident", as he called it in his head, his friends had been more or less cool with him, and they would not leave him alone for a single minute. Worse, if he managed to shake off his friends, one of the older Gryffindor, Slytherin and Ravenclaw students he had fought earlier would appear promptly. It was annoying, having his self-proclaimed guardians hovering over him all the time. And the worst part was that Hermione was not speaking to him at all, and every time he tried to speak to her, she would disappear. He had asked Susan what was wrong with her, but she had just looked at him sadly and said, "Boys."
Harry had no idea what that meant. He wondered idly if Hermione was seeing someone – then dismissed the idea as being stupid. No one dated at eleven – or twelve, Hermione's age. He reluctantly admitted that Hermione was probably still mad at him for the Fluffy incident, and that vexed him. Surely he had been adequately punished? Professor Snape had given him horrible detentions. He shuddered, remembering all the disgusting potions ingredients Snape had made him prepare.
Quidditch was his only solace. He could forget everything when he was flying, and simply concentrate on the game.
Harry also found himself spending time with Hagrid. He would complain to Hagrid for hours about how everyone was hovering over him, and Hagrid would laugh and pat his head and tell him, "But ya ha' that comin', 'Arry." Hagrid would kindly explain that his friends only cared about him and were worried about him, and that they didn't want him to get hurt again, and were simply looking out for him.
Harry would feel a little better, but after a few hours of being followed again, he would find himself getting increasingly irritated.
It didn't help that his scar ached almost constantly, or that his dreams were plagued by red eyes and strange objects.
"Come on, Harry," Draco cajoled. "Don't you want to go for the Halloween feast?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"My parents died today," Harry said shortly. "Yes, I know I didn't know them at all, and it is stupid, it's been ten years, but I just don't feel like it, all right? Leave me alone."
Draco looked a little hurt, but nodded and went away.
What Harry did not know was that Hermione had managed the Protean charm and all his friends now walked around with an enchanted galleon in their pockets, and they scheduled regular meetings to discuss his status.
"He's going to lose it one of these days," Neville said.
Susan nodded in agreement. "He is quite annoyed, and not bothering to hide it anymore."
"A screaming bout would do him good," Ron said. "A nice shouting match would clear the air."
"But that's for normal people, Ron," Susan retorted.
"Oh, he's normal enough."
"He's not coming to the feast today," Draco informed them.
"He wants to mourn?" Hermione asked sadly.
Draco nodded.
"So how do we keep an eye on him?" Crabbe asked.
"He'll probably just sulk in the dormitory," Goyle said. "I guess we could leave him alone for once."
Of course, nothing went as planned, as usual.
Harry sulked in his dormitory for about thirty minutes before deciding to take a walk. Pulling on his cloak, he strode out of the dungeons towards the lake. The chilly evening air felt good, refreshing.
"Trouble in your mind, Speaker?" a soft voice enquired.
Harry looked around, and found the snake Zabini had tried to set upon him slithering down the grass next to him.
"A little," he admitted reluctantly. "How have you been?"
"I am good, Speaker. The man in black lets me sleep in front of the fire when I want to, and I often hunt in the forest."
"That's nice."
"Yes."
They were silent for some time, then Harry asked curiously, "What is your name? I am sorry I never asked before."
"I am Seri. Do you have a name, Speaker?"
"Harry."
"So, Speaker Harry, what troubles you?"
"Everyone is so angry with me, and I don't even know what I did wrong."
The snake listened quietly to Harry's adventures and then made an odd hissing noise. It took Harry a few moments to realise that the snake was laughing at him.
"They are angry because they care, Speaker."
"But I didn't do anything bad! Well, except for accepting that stupid duel – but the rest of it, I was just trying to protect them!"
"Tell me, Speaker Harry, were the humans you were trying to protect older than you? Knew more magic than you? Were more capable of defending themselves than you?"
Harry blinked. "Yes."
"And yet you walked towards a Cerberus instead of running away?"
"Well...I..."
"If your older companions had not dragged you out, would you have run with them?"
Harry fidgeted. "Probably not."
"And if one of your friends, say, this Hermione, had been there with you, and she had tried to do what you did, what would you have done?"
Harry's shoulders slumped. "I would have given her a solid chewing out."
"Why?"
"Because...because it would foolish and reckless and if she died...I get your point, Seri. I should have run with everyone else."
"So you see why they are angry?"
"Yes."
Harry felt miserable. And warm. His friends cared for him. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall cared for him. They wanted him to be safe.
Seri hissed suddenly. "There is trouble in the castle, Speaker."
"What kind of trouble?" Harry asked immediately.
"I do not know. Some kind of a monster is loose. Come with me, Speaker, I will take you to a safe chamber."
"But my friends..."
"They will be safe."
Harry hesitated, then followed Seri into the castle. Seri took many short-cuts and routes Harry had not known about, and soon Harry found himself with in an abandoned girls' bathroom. Moaning Myrtle, the ghost, was pleased to see him, and was happy to point out the sink that Seri wanted Harry to find.
"Tell it to open," Seri said urgently. "Hurry. I can smell the creature coming this way."
"Open," Harry hissed at the small snake engraved on the tap. The sinks moved and the way to the chamber of secrets lay open.
"Troll in the dungeons!" cried Professor Quirrell, running into the Great Hall. "Thought you ought to know," he added, and fell to the floor in a dead faint.
The students panicked. It took Dumbledore several minutes to calm them down and instruct the Prefects to lead their houses to their common rooms.
The Weasley twins caught hold of Ron. "Where's Potter? Why is he not at the Feast?"
"His parents were killed at Halloween; he just learnt, so he is in the Slytherin dorm," Ron told them.
The twins looked into a very old piece of parchment.
"He's not," they said. "He is on the second floor." They exchanged a grim look. "The troll is right behind him."
Ron fished out his galleon.
"Minerva, we have to patrol the third floor," Severus said urgently. "And Potter is not in the Great Hall."
Minerva turned to Flitwick, spoke to him rapidly, grabbed Severus' arm and led him to the forbidden corridor on the third floor.
"Filius will take care of Potter," she assured Severus. "We need to keep the stone safe while Albus secures the students."
As they reached the third floor, they saw Professor Quirrell making his way towards them. He looked surprised, and slightly dismayed to see them there.
"Have they found the troll?" he asked.
"No," Severus told him. "They are looking for it."
"Clearly someone let it in as a distraction," Minerva said.
Quirrell paled.
"What place is this, Seri?" Harry asked, as he lowered himself gingerly on the floor littered with bones.
"This is the way to the chamber of secrets, Speaker Harry. This chamber was built by Salazar Slytherin himself."
"And why are we going there?"
"To keep you safe. There is a great snake that has been sleeping in the chamber for many, many years, Speaker. He will protect you from the danger that lurks in the castle, seeking you."
"Wait a sec...you mean that thing in the castle is looking for me? Why me?"
"I do not know, Speaker. I only know it was following us. Now open the chamber."
Harry hissed at the snakes carved on the door as they emerged from the passage, and the door opened. He stared at the humongous statue of Salazar Slytherin in awe, a little intimidated.
"Anybody home?" Harry asked.
"Who dares disturb my rest?" a powerful voice thundered.
"A Speaker from the house of Slytherin," Harry replied. "Show yourself, friend."
"You dare call me friend? Do you not know that my gaze can kill?"
Harry looked at Seri incredulously. What kind of a snake can kill with his gaze? Seri seemed to shrug. "He is the king of snakes, Speaker Harry."
King of snakes...deathly gaze...Harry vaguely remembered reading something with Hermione in the library in a magical creatures book. A basilisk!
"You're a basilisk?" Harry asked incredulously. "I thought they were extinct!"
The imperious voice snorted. "Of course we are not extinct, Speaker. We merely rest until called upon to serve Slytherin house."
"Wow! Can I see you? Please? I promise I won't look into your eyes."
The basilisk laughed at his excitement. "My gaze will not harm you, Speaker Slytherin. I, Coron, shall show myself to you. It has been fifty years since I saw a human. Ask Slytherin to release me, Speaker."
"Salazar Slytherin, may I request you to let Coron out, please?" Harry asked vaguely, feeling a little foolish. "I am in your house at Hogwarts," he added hastily.
Seri was laughing by Harry's side, and Harry could hear the basilisk's imperious laughter as well. The mouth of Salazar Slytherin's statue opened and the biggest snake Harry had ever seen in his life slithered out. The basilisk was at least 50 feet long. And beautiful. Frightening, but beautiful.
"Wow," Harry muttered reverentially.
The basilisk laughed again. "You are but a child, Speaker Harry," it said indulgently. "The last wizard I saw was nearly of age."
Harry did some quick calculations in his head. If the last Parselmouth had been nearly seventeen around fifty years ago, he was probably still alive – and if he was, Harry could get in touch with him. It would be nice to meet another Parselmouth. Perhaps Harry could learn from him.
Harry asked Coron.
"The last Speaker was much unlike you, Speaker Harry...he was dark of soul, and I am ashamed to admit that I killed a young witch at his behest. His name was Tom Riddle, and he called himself Lord Voldemort. He was the heir of Slytherin."
A/N: I realise I have messed up the sequence of events a bit...but well, it suited me to have certain events at certain times, so...
A/N-2: To everyone who has reviewed, or has followed the story – thank you! Thank You! THANK YOU! I am in one of my withdrawal phases and am desperately seeking solace in writing fan-fiction (and reading, of course), and you have no idea how good it feels to learn that what I write is being read...so, THANK YOU!
A/N-3: Sorry for the chapter being shorter than usual; I've been reading HP-Sherlock crossovers like a maniac – the next one will be regular-sized!