Chapter 23: Parseltongue and Diligent Hermione

Chapter 23: Parseltongue and Diligent Hermione

"Absolutely, positively, no way!"

When Hermione relayed Felix Harp's words to Harry and Ron, Harry countered with annoyance.

He couldn't bear to admit that he had an ancestor who understood the language of rats!

Harry felt that he had a miserable first week of school. Flying over Britain in a car and being locked in detention, the forced encounter with Lockhart, the crazy run-in with photography enthusiast Colin, and on top of that, the demanding Quidditch training...

And then, yesterday, he was in detention again, having to write back to Lockhart's fans, one letter after another, endlessly, for a whole four hours!

But that wasn't the worst part. In Lockhart's office, he heard disjointed phrases, "kill you... tear apart... death..."

When he told his two friends about this today, their expressions were as if he had finally lost it. And then Hermione volunteered to inquire with Professor Snape, and the answer she got made him slightly unhinged.

"That's not necessarily the case, mate. I've heard similar rumors," Ron whispered, taking a plump rat out of his pocket. The rat looked somewhat dispirited. "You can try, talk to Scabbers!"

Ron held Scabbers with both hands and presented him to Harry, his eyes filled with expectation.

Harry had to lower his head and lock eyes with the rat. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"

Scabbers rolled his eyes and turned his body away, refusing to look at him.

"Harry, don't speak human language! You just spoke human language," Ron advised.

Harry: "..." Even though I know what you mean, could you be a bit more refined?

He tried more than a dozen times, but the rat showed no reaction. "It's not working!" He let out a big sigh of relief.

Luckily, things didn't take the worst turn.

Hermione, observing the recent farce, reminded, "Harry, Professor Snape was just giving an example; there could be other possibilities."

Ron had a different opinion, "Apart from rats, what else is there in the castle? It can't possibly be insects, right?"

This speculation was even more terrifying. Harry shivered, quickly using his wits to change the subject.

"Maybe it's snakes!"

"Snakes?"

Ron and Hermione suddenly fell silent, exchanging strange looks.

"You mean, you can talk to snakes?" Ron swallowed nervously.

Harry hadn't noticed this reaction. Excitedly, he recounted his pre-school visit to the zoo and his conversation with a snake there.

"A giant python told you it had never been to Brazil?" Ron's voice was very weak.

"So what? I bet a lot of people can do that! It's like what Professor Harp mentioned, that... gift!"

Ron didn't speak, but Hermione whispered, "Harry, speaking with snakes is a sign of Salazar Slytherin. It's called Parseltongue, so the emblem of Slytherin House is a snake."

She worked until closing time. By then, she had finished reading sixteen books. Carrying the remaining four and her thick parchment, she returned to the common room, stifling yawns.

Tonight, she was prepared for a late-night study session.

Pushing open the common room door, everyone else had already left, leaving only two people.

"Harry, Ron?" Hermione was somewhat surprised.

"Hey, we didn't see you at dinner. Figured you might not have gone, so we brought this for you." Ron pointed at the table in front of him. On it were wrapped portions of food in parchment paper, the grease from the food had seeped through the outer layer of parchment, leaving oily stains.

Hermione covered her mouth, trying not to cry.

Harry chuckled, "We can't help with your essay, so this is all we can do. Hang in there, Hermione. You're the smartest person I've ever met in my life."

Hermione nodded vigorously.

The two of them left, and Hermione unwrapped the parchment paper. Inside were two pastries, and she ate them hungrily.

In the quiet common room, there was only her.

The next day, Monday, Hermione was in a daze the entire day. During Transfiguration practice, she nearly turned Harry into the Transfiguration subject.

By noon, she had to make a trip to the infirmary.

In the afternoon, with no classes during the second period, she intended to finish the last two books. Having pulled an all-nighter to complete her essay, she felt she had to finish reading these books as well. Maybe they would add some new content to her paper.

But she was too tired. When Harry returned from Quidditch practice, he found Hermione asleep in the common room.

"Hermione, Hermione?"

"Harry?" Hermione blinked her bleary eyes open. Her hair was even messier, and she looked disheveled.

She quickly woke up, then let out a scream, "What time is it, Harry, what time is it?"

"Half-past eight, Hermione." Fred, who had also just finished practice, answered. "I'll never forget Wood's craziness, practicing until eight on the first weekend of school. And it got even worse in the second week."

Oliver Wood himself, who was present, had a black line on his face. "I'm still here, you know!"

Not just him, the members of the Gryffindor team were all there. They were covered in mud, too tired to even speak.

Hermione jumped up suddenly, hastily ran outside, then turned around and hurried back, quickly straightening out the parchment paper on the table. Muttering to herself, she made sure everything was in order, then grabbed her bag and disappeared from everyone's view.

"What a hardworking and studious girl," Angelina, one of the players, commented.

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