Author's Note: Some parts taken from the book, but I'm making the notice for the day and not just before dinner, because that seems stupidly last-minute for a club.
Thursday December 17th, 1992
Melissa had to admit, Lockhart has been doing a decent job at maintaining his reputation. True, he does occasionally use his own books for reenactments and dramatic readings. The other half of the time, however, the man's methods are… interesting. Occasionally he gives a lecture about a spell, and has students give the spells a go. (Never by his example though. With enough laughter at his expense, the man learned fast enough to not try and give his spellwork a personal example.) Other times he reincorporates his stories into brainstorming sessions. He would set the scene, be it a trail up the Himalayas, fighting a banshee, or entering an ill-reputed pub, and have students give their own thoughts on how they would navigate the situation. Diplomacy, defensive spells, investigations, brute force. It was a thought-provoking and entertaining way to get students to enjoy the class. …While also ensuring that Lockhart remains a "wise, experienced" gamemaster despite the kids doing all of the thinking while he doesn't actually bring out any real wisdom of his own.
She has to hand it to him, the man knows how to weave the people to his side.
So it should have come as no surprise to her when Lockhart secretly pinned up a notice for a duelling club tonight. People chatted excitedly all day as the event drew near. Interest in the event was also exacerbated by Creevey's recovery. Thanks to Dumbledore's "ingenious" method of keeping Colin mum about the attack, not a single student considered the school safe from Slytherin's Monster. So, naturally, fears were once again on the rise, and students of all creeds were clamouring at the chance to learn some proper duelling.
They entered the Great Hall that night to find it had transformed. The dining tables were gone. Instead there was a golden stage erected along one of the walls, illuminated by thousands of floating candles.
"Well, that settles it." Melissa commented. "It's definitely going to be Lockhart."
Adrian rolled his eyes. "You can't claim you're right just by walking into a room. Besides, Professor Flitwick is a former duelling champion, so obviously it will be h-"
Gilderoy Lockhart entered the stage with a flourish of gold-trimmed deep plum robes. Behind him, like a black cloud, their Head of House followed after the man with a deep scowl etched on his face.
Melissa stuck her hand out, palm open and with curling fingers. Wherein Adrian, Amy, Jacinth, and Rusalka, to their chagrin, dropped several galleons into the girl's hand.
"Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called out. "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club-"
God, I wish I had popcorn for this. Melissa thought as the man prattled on. This is going to be priceless!
The canon demonstration was announced, and Snape and Lockhart readied themselves into position. "-On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course. One- two- three-"
"Expelliarmus!" Snape launched the spell with wicked precision. It hit Lockhart like a wave, blasting him against the wall, where he comically slid down and puddled onto the floor.
Melissa cheered loudly, making a piercing whistle that rose above the applause delivered by her fellow Slytherins. The ruckus earned the ire of those from other houses, particularly from the girls; but their glares only fueled her into more applause.
When Lockhart regained his footing (and his wand), the hall was divided into pairs to practice disarming one another. Melissa was paired up with Rusalka for the day. On the count of three they began. Rusalka went in for the kill with two spells fired in succession. Melissa dodged each with minimal movement, then fired off her own.
"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted suddenly. The cry caused Rusalka to break her concentration and look in the professor's direction.
Melissa used that to her advantage. "Incarcerous!" At once Rusalka was bound in rope, causing her to fall. "Expelliarmus." And, with that, Rusalka's wand was in her hand.
"Stop! Stop!" Lockhart called out. With the battle over, Melissa took in her surroundings as the call for a halt. The upper and middle year students were mostly doing fine. The younger ones, though, seemed to have a few problems. Some of the children were in tears or groaning in pain. Though, notably, Hermione seemed to have gotten into a physical scuffle with Bulstrode, with said witch holding Hermione in a headlock.
Shrugging away at the sight, Melissa turned back to her opponent and undid the spell. "Good duel?" She offered the girl a hand, which Rusalka obliged as Melissa pulled her up.
"I suppose so." Rusalka grunted as she got to her feet. Melissa gave her wand back with a small nod. "Thank you. I'm surprised. You've gotten a lot faster since last year."
Melissa gave a small head tilt, partially wincing as the comment elicited a few memories. "Yeah… I did a lot of running over the summer. Had to learn how to dodge spells quickly."
"Oh?" Rusalka raised her eyebrows. "I didn't know you trained over the summer."
"It was a literal pain." She hissed in exaggeration, but the remark caused the other girl to laugh.
"As it should!" She grinned wickedly. "Oh, look, it seems we have a demonstration."
"Huh?" Melissa turned around. The younger students were forming a ring around two students. Harry and Draco had their arms at the ready for another duel. Oh, fuck me, how did they still end up with this scene?!
"Serpensortia!" Draco cried out. A long, black snake emerged from the tip of his wand. The other children screamed and backed away from the snake. The creature hissed angrily. Its temper only worsened as Lockhart stupidly launched the thing into the air rather than dismissed it. Melissa pushed through the crowd. Maybe, with some luck, she can avoid having Harry say anything to the snake.
"STOP!" The hiss rang loud and clear. "Not prey! Leave!"
Fuck, I'm too late! Still, Melissa pushed forward, even as other students backed away. At last she broke into the inner ring. All around her, students stared open-mouthed or whispered in hushed shock. Yet none of their stares were aimed at Harry. No. Instead, all eyes were transfixed on Justin. He had one finger outstretched in a scolding flick; meanwhile, the snake laid docile at his feet, staring up at him as though waiting to hear him speak.
It was a shocking tableau. Justin, himself, appeared frozen -wide-eyed and ashen- as awareness came crashing down around him. Only Snape was capable of movement, albeit haltingly. With a wave, he sent the snake home in a puff of black smoke, yet all the while he stared at Justin as if he was an astounding abomination. The smoke seemed to break Justin out of his trance. Before it could fade, the boy turned on his heels and ran straight out the door.
The movement pulled off the stopper of silence in the room. In its wake came an explosion as students wondered loudly or in conspiratorial whispers over what, exactly, just happened?
Melissa, meanwhile, immediately slapped a hand to her face, covering her mouth and pinching her nose to prevent any snort or guffaw from breaking through. They think it's Justin! Her body rocked with strangled wheezing as she tried to keep it all in. They think it's Justin -fucking- Finch-Fletchley!
Melissa had to keep from laughing all night. When the attendees reported what had happened in the Great Hall, the entire Slytherin common room reeled in outrage and disgust over the implications. Justin Finch-Fletchley, a muggleborn Hufflepuff, is a parselmouth! Oh, it was fucking rich watching their little bigotted brains implode at the mere idea. But no one could deny it. There were nearly thirty Slytherins who witnessed the event. Malfoy chief among them as the caster of the snake-summoning spell. He had to confirm five times over that, yes, Justin Finch-Fletchley had hissed at the snake and made it stop its attack. Yes, really!
Watching the spectacle unfold was like watching the five stages of grief. Denial and Anger were pretty obvious for a long time going. Once it got to Bargaining, though, the buffet of rumours was too tasty to resist! Those who got to that stage had wild speculations that maybe Finch-Fletchley isn't actually a muggleborn. Perhaps he was Voldemort's own child, hidden away after the war for his protection? Or maybe he came from a lost line of Slytherin? Hell, maybe he's related to Voldemort on his father's side? Those ideas seemed outrageous to those still in the first two stages, especially those still in denial over the Family Tree Fiasco. The two sides ranted loudly against one another. …Until Melissa casually mentioned that the boy's parents are rich.
What better way to ensure an heir is both hidden and well taken care of, than by leaving him with wealthy (possibly related) muggles? The bargainers speculated. After all, the article claimed that the Riddles had a fair bit of wealth. Is the idea really so far-fetched? And didn't Dumbledore practically do the same thing with Potter? True, he left them with a bunch of horrid, violent muggles; but (as some whispered) Voldemort's followers were smarter than to allow something so terrible to happen to their own Lord's heir.
As midnight drew nearer, more people openly leaned into that theory than to the prospect of an actual muggleborn speaking parseltongue (and possibly having opened the Chamber of Secrets). The general chaos sated Melissa enough that she retired to bed. After all, she will need plenty of rest in order to enjoy the chaos the next day will bring.
She wanted to skip in her step. Yes, she was that happy come morning! Even in the early morning people were whispering in alcoves of the Slytherin common room. Melissa had no idea if any of them managed to get to sleep. It didn't matter either way, but it did force her reign in the utter glee radiating from her spirit. There's something particularly delicious about having that much confusion and chaos bouncing through the castle! So, as soon as she was out of sight and up the stairs, she spun in her step and burst out laughing! Melissa was in such a good mood, she started singing out Snake-Charmer in Surrey as she made her way over to breakfast. (With a slight change to There's a snake charmer sleeping in the burrows for a special Hufflepuff twist.) She ended up humming the tune all the way up to the Great Hall, but quieted down as she rejoined her Slytherin classmates.
"Stop smiling, Bennett!" Jacinth warned. "It's like you're trying to get yourself in trouble."
The girl answered with a teasing but petulant tone. "What? I'm just enjoying a lovely morning after a wonderful sleep. Isn't that worthy enough of a smile?"
"Not today. Now, quit it!"
"Alright, alright." She dimmed the smile away, and fixed her plate with a delicious dose of breakfast.
There were mutterings all about the Great Hall. The rumour mill, ever turning. Yet a few minutes later the din muted when the second-year Hufflepuffs walked in. It was a curious sight. The group appeared to walk in formation, with Justin at their centre - not the easiest thing to accomplish with eleven students. Still, their gait made their message clear. We stand United. It said, Anyone that wants to get to him, has to get through us!
The formation then divided to reach both sides of the table. Finch-Fletchley, notably, positioned on the side that had his back turned to Slytherin. -Or maybe it's to ensure his back isn't turned against pranking Gryffindors? Either way, it sent another message to those with eyes to see. The school watched on as the group settled themselves to a table. And all of Slytherin watched with bated breath as Entwhistle faced Finch-Fletchley, and hissed.
There was a double-take about the room. Especially as Finch-Fletchley handed a plate of bacon to Entwhistle who, again, hissed in thanks.
The FUCK are they doing?!
As if that sight wasn't weird enough, Abbott turned over to Moon and hissed something at the girl. The girl hissed back, then helped herself to some eggs. Soon enough, all eleven of them were hissing. Nothing loud enough to be discernible, but they were all doing it!
But they don't… Only four of those children have been learning (or teaching) parseltongue, so how can they… They're not! Melissa realized with a shock. Hopkins hissed something loud enough to tell that the syllables made no sense. They're pretending! It's… it's all a game. A trick!
Melissa gaped into an open-mouthed smile. "I wanna join in!" She thought aloud.
"Melissa?" Domonkos sounded confused, or concerned. She didn't know which it was, and didn't care.
"I'll be right back." She promised, and pushed off to get to the Hufflepuff table, ignoring her classmates as they whispered hoarsely to come back. When she reached the hissing second years, she slapped both hands to her heart like an adoring mother. "Baby badgers! This snake is happy to hear such sounds today!"
She settled in between Harry and Susan, and turned her attention to Susan. "Hungry, Bones?"
Susan blinked dumbly at the girl, then hissed nonsense in answer. Still, Melissa played along, nodding as if she understood the girl. She then grabbed the tongs and put a slice of toast on Susan's plate. Susan, bless her heart, hissed again trying to say thank you, without actually knowing a word for it. With that exchange done, she turned over to Harry. "Your idea, Lightning Bolt?"
"Lightning Bolt?"
"Wizard name makes Tongue-of-Speakers sound true. Idea must sound not-real."
"True." Harry nodded. "Not my idea." He hummed a moment in contemplation, then nodded towards Kevin. "Tree Wind's idea."
"Tree Wind?" Kevin asked. He started cracking up, holding his head in his hand. He silently muttered "This isn't Lord of the Rings!" He collected himself for a moment, and then added. "I am… Bird in Slithering Water?"
"Bird in River?" Harry suggested.
"Bird in River." Kevin said slowly. He shrugged it off. Now wasn't the time to get English clarification.
"Hiss- maggot iss-rock-kha!" Came a call looming over the group. The kids all looked up to see both Fred and George Weasley with hands raised in a greeting gesture.
"Greetings!" Answered those who could say it correctly. Others just hissed more nonsense.
The Twins bowed to Justin, hissing loudly and gesturing towards the benches.
"You hunt with us." Justin answered, and gestured that they sit down.
"Saa-kha-bird dirt-hassasha!" One of them said, his entire body language was in joking reverence towards Justin.
Harry snorted out his pumpkin juice. He coughed loudly to get it out of his system. Melissa patted his back. She grimaced as he continued to cough. "You okay?"
"I'll- *cough*- I'll be f-f-fine." He coughed a bit longer, though part of him cringed at times. The others, meanwhile, all continued talking -or, well, hissing randomly at each other. Harry made a come-closer gesture with one hand, so Melissa obliged and leaned in close to him. In the quietest whisper he spoke. "All of that was words."
"What?"
"The twins! It's all nonsense, but I understand everything they're saying. Their accents' perfect!" He started snickering. He practically fell against her shoulder laughing once the words came out.
Realization dawned on her; and Melissa, too, snorted and laughed alongside him. This is, without a doubt, the second-funniest morning of her life!