Harry looked at Daphne with confusion.
"What are you talking about? I thought you just didn't like snakes, so I got rid of it."
"No, Harry, you—you were definitely hissing. You sounded exactly like a snake sounds," Daphne replied. "Make the snake again."
"Daphne, what—" Harry started.
"Harry. Make the snake," Daphne interrupted, leaving no room for argument.
Harry's brow furrowed, but he did as she asked, and soon the small orange snake was curling around his fingers again.
"Alright, now talk to it," Daphne instructed.
"Daphne, this doesn't make any sense," Harry said.
"Just do it, Harry. And really listen to what you're saying."
He looked at the snake, nonplussed. "Erm… hello? Can you hear me?" Harry asked, feeling rather foolish, though his words did sound rather strange to his ears. The snake's head lifted, and the red embers that made up its eyes seemed to somehow focus on him.
"Ssssspeaker? Yesssss, I can hear you."
Harry dropped the snake on the desk, shoving his chair backwards. The snake dissipated as Harry pulled his magic back into himself. "Daphne, did you hear that? The snake, it just spoke to me!"
Daphne looked calmer now, seemingly having managed to gather her thoughts while Harry was distracted. "All I heard was hissing, Harry. I think… Harry you're a Parselmouth."
"A what?" Harry asked, still in shock.
"It means you can talk to snakes, Harry. You can speak Parseltongue, the language of snakes. You have a magical ability that lets you speak and understand it, just like Salazar Slytherin." Daphne was building up steam now, her excitement growing. "Harry, this is amazing. Parselmouths are incredibly rare, and other than You-Know-Who there hasn't been one recorded in Europe in over a century!"
Harry was still somewhat confused. "So what if I can speak to snakes? It's just another language, even if it might be rare."
"It's just an extremely rare ability, and it's usually associated with Dark wizards, since You-Know-Who was the last famous Parselmouth. Harry, you've got to keep this quiet. If this gets out to the rest of the school, it could cause some serious problems. Everyone not in Slytherin will probably tell their families that you're a Dark wizard-in-training."
"If you say so," Harry shrugged. He still didn't see what the big deal was with another language. "It's getting kind of late, Daphne, we should probably be heading back."
Harry woke up the next morning feeling slightly lethargic. He and Daphne had returned to the Slytherin dorms at nearly one in the morning, and Harry had collapsed into his bed and passed out almost instantly. Rolling off his four-poster bed, he performed his morning rituals and packed his book bag for the day. As he was about to walk out the door, he realized that Blaise was still in his bed, a small amount of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. Harry sighed and stepped next to Blaise's head.
"BLAISE!" Harry shouted directly into his ear.
"Wha—who—huh?" Blaise exclaimed as he shot up in his bed.
"Eloquent as always, Blaise," Harry smirked. "Come on, time to head to breakfast if you wanna eat before class."
"Okay, okay, I'm on it," Blaise muttered, as he shuffled to the bathroom.
While he waited, Harry pulled a piece of parchment from his desk and inked a quill. He had told Ollivander that he would owl him after he arrived at Hogwarts.
Dear Mr. Ollivander,
I've arrived at Hogwarts. You were right, the view from the lake is absolutely stunning. It looked like something straight out of a book. Classes have been pretty good so far, especially Transfiguration. Though, my… unique situation has made some exercises somewhat challenging, I've managed to hide it so far. I did accidentally reveal it to one of my friends, but she seems trustworthy.
However, I did discover something new. Turns out, I'm a "Parselmouth," which I discovered accidentally with that same friend I mentioned. I was curious, do you have any information on it that I could use?
I hope you are doing well, though I can't imagine your shop is too packed with all the students back at Hogwarts.
Hope to hear back soon,
Harry Potter
He folded the parchment into thirds and stuffed it into an envelope. Just as he was scribbling Ollivander's name on the front, Blaise emerged from the bathroom, looking back to his perfectly groomed self.
"Ready to go?" he asked, grabbing his already packed bag from the floor.
Harry and Blaise slid into their seats next to Daphne and Tracey.
"Morning, boys," Tracey greeted them. "How did you sleep?" she added with a smirk in Harry's direction.
"Not long enough," Blaise groused.
"Blaise, you had at least nine hours of sleep, stop complaining," Harry said as Hedwig fluttered down from the rafters and landed on his shoulder. He lifted a piece of bacon to her beak as he gently stroked her feathers. "Up for a delivery, Hed?"
Hedwig hooted back indignantly, as if offended that he even had to ask. She lifted a leg and allowed Harry to tie the letter to it, then snatched two more pieces of bacon from Blaise's plate before taking flight.
"I swear, that bird is too intelligent for her own good," Blaise complained as he refilled his plate. "What's on our schedule today?"
"History and Transfiguration in the morning, Charms and Defense in the afternoon," Daphne replied. "Though I'm not sure we should even count History as a class. My mom told me it's basically completely self-study for the yearly exams, and especially the OWLs and NEWTs."
"Why's that?" Harry asked.
"There's a ghost teaching it. Which wouldn't normally be a problem, but apparently, he focuses almost entirely on Goblin history, which is a pretty minor part of the tests," Daphne explained.
"Great. I was hoping that part of my education would be completely useless," Blaise remarked. "You'd think there would be an actual historian looking for a job who could replace him."
"That's probably why they do, though. One less salary to pay," Tracey joked.
Later that afternoon, the four Slytherins entered the Defense classroom along with the rest of their cohort. The room was organized with five dense rows of desk right at the entrance, with a chalkboard in front of them. The other half of the room was bare, with a door in the back that presumably would lead to the professor's office. Sliding into one side of the front row, they took out their books and quills in preparation for note taking.
Malfoy and his friends were loudly discussing the worthlessness of History when the professor's door opened. Quirrell, with his iconic purple turban on his head, made his way to the chalkboard and waved his wand over it. Three words appeared.
"Jinxes, hexes, and c-c-curses. Can anyone tell m-me the difference between these k-k-kinds of sp-spells?" His stuttering was noticeable, but fortunately not debilitating, though it did have a way of reducing the gravitas of his words. "Anyone?"
He waited a few seconds before waving his wand again, revealing more writing. "J-jinxes are typically short t-t-term spells, causing no physical harm and l-l-leaving no lasting effects. Hexes f-f-focus on causing physical ailments, and c-c-can have p-permanent effects if improperly removed or l-left applied for too long. Finally, c-c-curses are damaging spells that give the v-victim debilitating injuries or harmful m-mental effects. In this class, we will learn extremely basic v-versions of each type of spell, as well as c-c-common counter-spells and d-defensive techniques." Harry scribbled down the professor's words as quickly as he could.
"Now, has anyone here p-performed any of these spells before?" Quirrell asked. Malfoy's hand lazily raised into the air, a superior smile forming on his face as he saw no other hands going up. "Mr. Malfoy, is it? Which spell have you performed before?"
"Tarantallegra," Malfoy proclaimed. "My father taught it right after I got my wand this summer."
"Would you care to d-demonstrate?" Quirrell asked. "Ms. P-P-Parkinson, would you and Mr. Malfoy mind j-joining me up here?"
Malfoy and his pug-faced companion walked to the front of the classroom, where he positioned them across the room from each other. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy, p-please show us." Malfoy raised his wand, and with a sweeping motion followed by a jab, shouted, "Tarantallegra!"
A pale blue beam of light shot from his wand, striking Parkinson in the stomach. Immediately, her legs began the motions for a simple waltz, as her face turned a bright red.
"Finite," murmured Quirrell, and Parkinson's motions stopped. She quickly took her seat, followed by Malfoy, who had a grin plastered across his face. "As you c-can see, Mr. Malfoy's spell caused Ms. Parkinson's legs t-t-to dance under his control. This is a-an example of a jinx, b-b-because there was no physical ch-changes to Ms. Parkinson, nor were there any effects r-r-remaining after the spell was c-cancelled. Now, b-begin reading the first ch-chapter of your textbook."
"Well, that was a bit underwhelming," Blaise commented as the four Slytherins made their way towards the library. "I know it was just the first class, but I was hoping for more than a demonstration from a classmate."
"Give it time, I'm sure it'll get better. He did say we would be learning some of them, we just have to wait a bit," Daphne said. "Not all of our classes are going to be exciting right from the start." Harry and his friends returned to the same table they used the previous day and began putting the finishing touches on their Potions assignment.
"Hey, where are the two that were here yesterday? Longbottom and, what was it, Granger?" Tracey asked.
"Um, I think that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have their flying lessons today, if I'm not mistaken. That takes up all the time before dinner," Harry answered. "We're up tomorrow, right?"
"Yep, with the Gryffindors of course. I really don't know why they always put us in classes with them, that never goes well," Tracey complained. "How did your exploration go last night? I forgot to ask Daph this morning."
"Tracey, you know I've told you not to call me that," Daphne replied after a glance to Harry. "It was interesting, though. Almost got caught by Filch. Some of the passages in the dungeons are really strange, though. I bet there's tons of shortcuts we could find, but it's gonna be tough to map it out."
"That's what weekends are made for, Daph!" Tracey replied with a grin. "Don't you worry, by next month you'll be ten minutes early to every class." Daphne shot her friend a sharp look but turned back to her essay. "Blaise, could you explain the reaction between the snake fangs and the nettles from Potions yesterday?"
Author's Note: If the descriptions of magic aren't clear, please let me know. I have a pretty solid image of what I want it to be, but I know it can get lost in translation sometimes. I've also decided to make Quirrell a little less useless than canon so they can actually learn something. As always, please drop a review!