Chapter Twenty-One: Part and Parsel

When Daphne woke up the next morning, the bones in her arm seemed to have regrown. She shot a glance at Isaac's bed, but it had been blocked from view by high curtains. Madam Pomfrey noticed she was awake, so she brought over a breakfast tray and began bending and stretching her arm and fingers.

"All in order," she said. "When you've finished eating, you may leave."

Daphne got dressed as quickly as she could. She wasn't really sure what she wanted to do first. She wanted to know what the other Slytherins would be thinking now that one of their own — and a Prefect, to boot — had been attacked, though Isaac's reputation as being horribly accident-prone was so well-known she doubted many of them would care. She'd never known that it had actually been the result of a curse, though. She figured he was just clumsy, like Neville.

At the same time, though, she wanted to talk to Harry and the others about what she'd heard during the night. If the Chamber of Secrets had been opened before, then perhaps there was some record left of that time.

She stepped out of the hospital wing and nearly ran straight into Harry.

"Hey!" she said. "Came to see if my arm was fixed yet?"

She wiggled her arm to show that it was.

Harry nodded, but then he said, "It's not just that, though. Listen…"

He told her that Dobby had visited him at night, revealing that he had enchanted the Bludger to go after Harry — Daphne really hoped she'd get a chance to have some words with Dobby after that — and that, much like Daphne had heard, the Chamber of Secrets had been opened before.

"…so Ron and Hermione have already begun brewing the Polyjuice Potion. They want to know if Malfoy knows anything about this," Harry finished.

"Have you heard there's been another attack?" Daphne asked.

Harry's face darkened. "No. Who is it?"

"You're not going to believe this: it's Isaac Moore, a Slytherin Prefect," Daphne said.

"A Slytherin was attacked? Why?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore said he wasn't the intended victim, but…" Daphne hesitated. "He was a part of my efforts to make Slytherin look better. What if that's why someone attacked him?"

Harry looked troubled. "If that's the case, then you'd better be careful too. I don't want to see you get Petrified as well," he said. He looked so earnest that Daphne felt her cheeks flush a bit.

"A-anyway, I'm heading down to the Slytherin common room first, to see what people are talking about there. I'll see you guys at lunch?" she said quickly.

Harry nodded. Was it her imagination, or did he seem a bit red as well? "Yeah, see you then!"

Daphne made her way down to the dungeons. She appreciated that Harry had come to check up on her and wondered if he felt guilty somehow that the bones in her arm had been removed. He didn't have to, of course — she'd been the one to jump in front of Lockhart's spell.

She wondered if the Polyjuice plan her friends were making had any chance of success. While it would be useful to get some honest answers out of Malfoy, she really didn't know how much he would reveal. Even if Lucius would know more, the odds of him telling his son anything were slim.

She entered the common room, where she found Gemma talking to Freddie Lowe.

"Morning," she said as she stood next to them. Judging by their grim expressions, they'd already heard about the attack on Isaac.

"Did you hear?" Gemma asked.

"I was in the hospital wing. I was there when Isaac was brought in," Daphne said. "And Dumbledore thinks Isaac was likely not the intended victim."

"Wasn't he? I mean, he was a part of our little group, and we're not exactly unknown anymore at this point, nor very popular. Of course, Isaac and I weren't that popular to begin with, but still," Gemma said, echoing Daphne's own worries to Harry a few minutes earlier.

Daphne wanted to tell them what she'd heard about Isaac's curse, but decided against it. Isaac had probably only told Snape and Dumbledore. And besides, knowing about it certainly didn't make her any less worried.

"So…what now?" she asked.

"That's what we were discussing," Freddie said. "Most people in Slytherin think that getting Petrified is just like Isaac, and are saying the same as Dumbledore apparently did: that he wasn't the intended victim. But a few of our more…vocal detractors are saying it's a sign that what we're doing isn't wanted here and that we'd be purged as well, pureblood or not."

He shook his head derisively. "Can you imagine if we'd actually progressed to doing more than just stopping the occasional bully?"

Daphne said nothing. She didn't really want to believe that the…they really needed a name for their group…would be targeted, but with Isaac now Petrified, she couldn't ignore the possibility. And just when things were going well, too! She had to find out what was going on at Hogwarts, and it had to be soon.

Over the next few days, the news of the attack on Isaac spread across the school amid a wave of confusion. Because even a Slytherin was apparently not safe from the heir of his own House, even the pureblood students were beginning to get nervous, and a booming trade in talismans, amulets, and other devices of dubious usefulness had started up in the school.

In the second week of December, the names of those who would be staying at Hogwarts were collected. Just like the year before, Daphne decided she'd stay. To her surprise, Malfoy would do the same, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron intended to use the Polyjuice Potion during the holidays. Unfortunately for them, the potion was only half finished.

"If you'd just told me you needed those ingredients, I'd have gotten them for you," Daphne said with an exasperated look.

"You'd break into Snape's office?" Ron asked.

"No, you idiot, I'd write a letter to my parents asking them to send some over. I'd just ask for some other ingredients as well and no one would bat an eye. It does have some perks, being part of a Noble House, you know," Daphne said.

She sighed. "Just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you. I'm all for a bit of excitement, but Harry and you are pretty much on probation and I don't want you guys to get expelled."

She wrote to her parents that same night to ask them if they could send over the bicorn horn and boomslang skin, in addition to some other ingredients the student stores didn't usually stock. She didn't say what she needed them for, of course, but she'd hinted that she would tell them over the summer.

The next day, she received a letter from her parents including the ingredients, and a warning to not get caught with whatever she was planning.

Hermione beamed at her when she handed over the final ingredients of the potion.

"Thank you!" she said.

"You're welcome. I'm just glad I don't need to present for the brewing," Daphne said.

The moment she'd found out they were brewing the potion in Myrtle's toilet, she'd declined to come over and have a look. She wasn't going to take any risks where Myrtle was concerned.

Another week passed, and an announcement was posted that a Dueling Club would be started at Hogwarts. Daphne, who'd still kept up practicing her minor jinxes and hexes, thought it would be a smart idea to join, and she was happy to hear her friends were going to give it a try as well.

At eight o' clock that evening, they met in the Great Hall, where the long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had been set up along one wall, lit thousands of candles floating overhead. Most of the school seemed to have turned up. No surprise, given the circumstances.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" Hermione said as they stood at the edge of the crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young; maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not–" Harry began, but he ended on a groan.

Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

Daphne's eyes lit up. If Snape would duel Lockhart, his remains would be sent home in a shoe box.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions. For full details, see my published works.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape. He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. 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!"

Daphne saw Ron mutter something to Harry, and she thought she could guess what it was. Snape looked positively murderous and Daphne's grin got a bit bigger. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed.

At least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably.

Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart said. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that…" Harry muttered.

"One…two…three…"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent.

"Expelliarmus!" Snape yelled.

There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

"Yes! Go, Professor Snape!" Daphne yelled loudly.

Some people nearby turned to her, but she didn't care. She could swear she saw the corner of Snape's mouth go upward the tiniest bit.

She hadn't been the only one to cheer; many of the other Slytherins, as well as a smaller number of students from the other Houses, had enjoyed the spectacle.

"Do you think he's alright?" Hermione asked.

"Who cares?" Harry, Ron, and Daphne said together. She was almost disappointed Snape hadn't turned Lockhart into a smear across the wall.

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it," he said, wobbling his way back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm — as you see, I've lost my wand — ah, thank you, Miss Brown — 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…however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see–"

Snape twitched his wand, and Lockhart involuntarily took a step backwards. "Well, enough demonstrating!" Lockhart said, perhaps a bit louder than necessary.

Daphne relished his fear.

"I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me…"

They were put into pairs, and to Daphne's mild concern she ended up paired with Warrington, who still seemed to remember their last interaction.

"Wands at the ready," shouted Lockhart.

Daphne swallowed.

"When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents. Only to disarm them; we don't want any accidents…one…two…three…"

Daphne saw Warrington beginning to move before Lockhart had even fully pronounced the 'three' and dodged to the side, causing Warrington's spell to miss her. She hadn't heard what spell he used, but it definitely hadn't been the Disarming Charm.

"Colloshoo!" she shouted, and immediately Warrington's feet were glued to the ground.

"Flipendo!" Warrington shouted, and an invisible force knocked Daphne off her feet.

She got back up, but–

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell hit her, and her wand flew from her hand — though not in Warrington's direction, but away from her. Apparently, he didn't have that much control over it yet.

Warrington grinned darkly at her, and Daphne angrily inclined her head to acknowledge her defeat.

It seemed Warrington intended to cast another spell, as he was raising his wand again, but at that moment Lockhart arrived to hand Daphne her wand back.

All the duels had been stopped, and it was only now that Daphne realized she'd been far from the only one using different spells than intended.

"Here you are, Miss Greengrass," Lockhart said. He handed over the wand. "Laurel, I presume?" he said with a wink, and Daphne chuckled weakly.

"I could tell by the grain of the wood," Lockhart went on. "See–"

"It's cypress!" Daphne interrupted angrily.

She was mad enough she'd lost to Warrington, and she didn't want to listen to any more of Lockhart's stupidity.

"Ah, I knew that, of course, but I wanted to see if you were paying attention," Lockhart said.

Daphne considered casting the full Body-Bind on him, but decided it would mostly not be worth the trouble.

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," Lockhart said as he surveyed the carnage around him.

He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and quickly looked away.

"Let's have a volunteer pair…Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you–"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," Snape said. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox. How about Malfoy and Potter?" he went on with a twisted smile.

Daphne groaned. Of course Snape would try to get Harry in trouble. Harry probably wouldn't win an actual duel against Malfoy.

Given her own performance against Warrington just now, she was forced to reconsider if she would be able to beat Malfoy.

She saw Lockhart instructing Harry, while Snape prepared Malfoy. Given the relative competence of their instructors, Daphne was now even more sure that Harry was doomed, and she had to wonder what Snape's intention was. If he'd let Harry get hurt over something stupid, she'd have words with him.

Lockhart counted down, and Malfoy immediately shouted, "Serpensortia!"

A long, black snake shot out of the end of Malfoy's wand. It fell onto the floor, raised itself, and readied to strike.

Snape moved closer to Harry, but Daphne couldn't hear what he was saying.

Then, Lockhart jumped in. "Allow me!" he shouted, and pointed his wand at the snake.

There was a loud bang, and the snake flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the ground with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight towards Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Harry ran forwards…and shouted something in a horrible, hissing voice. Daphne felt goosebumps on her arms at the sound of it. No human should be able to produce sounds like that, and she immediately realized that Harry was speaking Parseltongue.

The snake lowered itself back to the floor and stared intently at Harry, who looked up at Finch-Fletchley with a grin, and Daphne immediately put things together to conclude that Harry had told the snake to stop attacking.

Justin, however, didn't seem to have the presence of mind to do that, and shouted, "What do you think you're playing at?!"

Then he turned around and stormed from the Hall. Snape, meanwhile, looked like he'd just confirmed something for himself, but Daphne didn't have time to think about it.

She saw Hermione and Ron moving forwards to get to Harry, and she quickly followed them. They led Harry out of the Hall, and to Daphne's consternation led him to Myrtle's bathroom. She understood why, but she was furiously hoping Myrtle wouldn't show herself.

"You're a Parselmouth! Why didn't you tell us?" Ron said.

"I'm a what?" Harry asked.

"A Parselmouth! You can talk to snakes!"

"I know," Harry said, clearly not getting why that was a problem. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once — long story — but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to. That was before I knew I was a wizard."

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Ron asked faintly.

"So?" Harry said. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"They can't, actually," Daphne said. "And if they can, they keep it hidden. Look, I get that you told the snake to back down–"

"How would you know?" Ron interrupted.

"What do you mean 'how would she know'? You were there!" Harry said.

"I guessed, because the snake lay down and Harry was smiling at Finch-Fletchley," Daphne said. "But Harry, all we could hear was a horrible hissing sound. If I hadn't known you — or hadn't had the eyes to see that the snake lay down — I might've thought you were egging that snake on."

"I spoke a different language? But…I didn't realize…how can I speak a different language without knowing I can speak it?"

Hermione and Ron gave each other grim glances, and Daphne sighed.

"Okay, before anyone here goes leaping to conclusions…Harry, Parseltongue is a trait associated with Slytherin himself," she said, and Harry's eyes widened. "It's why our House symbol is a snake to begin with. And now everyone who isn't a Slytherin or a pureblood invested in genealogy or both is going to think that you're the Heir of Slytherin. You're not, obviously, but they will think it."

"How can you be sure?" Hermione asked. "You said yourself that if the Heir were here, it'd be a half-blood."

"Yes, but it would have to be someone with a hard-to-trace family tree. Harry's father was a pureblood, and the Potter family is not in Slytherin's lineage, as the book I sent you shows. So unless his Muggleborn mother was a descendent of Slytherin — in which case Harry's aunt and cousin are, too — Harry isn't the Heir."

Harry seemed at least partially relieved. "I'm pretty sure Aunt Petunia and Dudley aren't Parselmouths," he said. "But if it's such a rare talent…why do I have it?"

Daphne shrugged. "It was rumored that Voldemort–"

"Don't say that name!"

"–was able to talk to snakes. Maybe when he cursed you, he, I don't know, passed something of his over to you, or something."

Harry looked revolted. "I have a part of him inside me?" he asked, sounding like he was going to be sick at any moment.

"I don't know," Daphne said. "He used magic on you and it failed. Who knows what happens in a situation like that? As far as I know, you're the only one to have ever survived the Killing Curse."

"That's what he used on me?" Harry asked softly. "Is that the flash of green light I keep seeing when I…"

Daphne nodded, feeling conflicted upon seeing how strongly just the name of the curse seemed to affect Harry. But she wouldn't lie or hide the truth from him. "Yes. Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse. The worst of the three Unforgivable Curses. Using any of those spells on anyone is a lifelong ticket to Azkaban — the wizard prison — and this one was Voldemort's favorite spell."

"What…what are the other two?" Harry asked shakily.

"The Imperius Curse, which forces you to do the caster's bidding, and the Cruciatus Curse, which causes immense pain," Daphne said. "For your sake, I hope you'll never have an Unforgivable used on you again."

And if someone does, I'm giving it right back to them, she added in her mind.

So, it's time for a bit of explanation again. First, the small bit with Lockhart guessing what kind of wood Daphne's wand is made out of. It's just a stupid pun. The name Daphne means laurel. I wanted to add it in, and Lockhart seemed like the kind of guy to mention it and getting it entirely wrong in the process.

The lineage thing, then. Both Voldemort and Harry descend from one of the Peverell brothers, but only Cadmus's line was mixed with Slytherin's. Ignotus's line, from which the Potters descend, has nothing to do with Slytherin. Everyone probably knows that, but just in case, I wanted to clear it up.