While the thoughts of Voldemort and those "traitorous" Death Eaters like Lucius remained a mystery, our Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, found himself in quite a predicament.
If he had been a Slytherin, perhaps he would now be surrounded by a throng of fawning followers, strutting through the school, basking in the awe or deference of his classmates. Alas, he was a Gryffindor. Gryffindors, ever the skeptics of dark plots and the staunchest opponents of wickedness, could only point and whisper when it came to Harry's Parseltongue abilities.
Even though Harry's closest friends stood by him, their small circle was simply too few. When enough people cry wolf, others will join the chorus, and soon, students from other Houses began to follow suit. As the old saying goes, if everyone says you are something, you might as well be. When someone accused Lord Voldemort of being a Dark Lord, people genuinely feared him. But if someone accused Dumbledore of being a Dark Lord, everyone would merely join in the sarcastic whispers about old Dumbledore. That was the crucial difference.
Now, everyone was declaring Harry Potter to be the Heir of Slytherin, claiming he had opened the Chamber of Secrets and, as rumor had it, "killed" two students. They insisted Dumbledore should expel such a dangerous element, perhaps even send him to Azkaban. After all, with the ancient pure-blood families' tradition of intermarriage, it was now common to point at any pure-blood wizard and claim their lineage could be traced back to Slytherin. Between the pure-blood factions, who wasn't related to whom?
Perhaps it truly was him!
Such wild theories became the gossip of every tea break. Everywhere Harry went, he could hear groups of students subtly glancing his way, then whispering secrets with mysterious airs. The term "You-Know-Who," typically reserved for the Dark Lord, had, for a time, become a nickname for him—the Boy Who Lived, who had vanquished the Dark Lord.
Thankfully, Harry Potter was never one to back down. The more he was misunderstood, the more determined he became. He was resolved not only to prove his innocence but also to uncover the true identity of the evil Heir of Slytherin! And so, at last, he retrieved the book list Professor Lockhart had given him back in Chapter Thirteen. He intended to visit the Restricted Section of the library to borrow The Most Ancient of Spells and learn the ancient Patronus Charm! He would prove he was no Dark Wizard!
Yes, this child truly was the type who wouldn't move forward unless utterly compelled. When he first received this method to prove his Parseltongue wasn't that of a Dark Wizard, he was quite excited. But the very next morning, before he could even borrow the book, Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, urged him to hurry to practice. Upon realizing that no one in the Quidditch team seemed to mind his Parseltongue abilities, he simply forgot all about it. It was fortunate that he hadn't misplaced the signed library pass from the professor, otherwise, he truly wouldn't know how to approach Professor Lockhart about the matter.
The Patronus Charm was incredibly difficult! In Hermione's words, "This is not a spell a second-year wizard can possibly learn!" But unlike the always-logical Hermione, his good friend Ron usually only cared about the outcome. He was so familiar with the wizarding world that he instantly reacted, reminding Harry, "The Patronus Charm can be used against Dementors, Harry! If you can learn it, you won't have to worry about fainting whenever you meet one. At least then, Malfoy and his cronies won't be able to mock you in class anymore."
Malfoy! Harry's resolve to learn the spell instantly solidified.
"I will learn it!" he declared loudly to Hermione and Ron.
Hmm, on that note... He had also promised Professor Lockhart earlier that he would find a way to deal with the Basilisk.
Wait a moment! "Ron, Hermione!" he suddenly blurted out, a jolt running through him as he stared wide-eyed at his two best friends. "Do you think the monster in the Chamber of Secrets...could it be a Basilisk?" His question was uttered with such conviction, as if he was certain of the answer.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you had read the fifth-year Care of Magical Creatures textbook like I did, you would know that Newt Scamander, the author, states that Basilisks have been extinct for over four hundred years!"
"Hey!" Ron stared at Hermione in horror, as if she herself were a Basilisk. "Fifth-year textbook? Merlin's beard! You're reading fifth-year textbooks?" This was even more outlandish than the idea of the monster in the Chamber being a Basilisk!
Hermione merely scoffed at him, disinclined to engage further. Seeing that his two friends were about to fall into another days-long silence, Harry had to ease the tension. He truly didn't want his two companions to quarrel when everyone else was already pointing fingers at him.
"Basilisk or not, we heard Parseltongue in the castle, remember?"
"Sssspeak to me, Ssslytherin... kill him!" he hissed, doing his best to utter Parseltongue while looking at a drawing of a snake in his notebook, mimicking the sound they had both heard. "It definitely has something to do with snakes!" Harry looked at them earnestly. "If we find a way to defeat the King of Serpents, we can deal with those snakes that are lurking somewhere!"
This certainly made sense. However, their progress wasn't smooth. They simply knew too little magic. Because of this, before the next Duelling Club session, Harry kept staring at the vibrant, multicolored ice snake in the cage on the office shelf.
Hiss, hiss, hiss! (Attack me!) He tried to command the ice snake. Alas, the ice snake was naturally docile and non-venomous; it couldn't possibly demonstrate the terrifying power of a Basilisk. It didn't even possess frightening fangs. It simply opened its mouth and bumped against the cage, making a clanging sound, appearing utterly harmless.
"Hey, Harry, what are you up to?" The restless Weasley twins clearly noticed the commotion and came closer to witness this amusing scene.
Harry held up the crumpled piece of parchment in his hand. "I'm researching how to fight a Basilisk. I promised Professor Lockhart I'd find an answer."
"A Basilisk?" George looked at the rather dull-witted ice snake in the cage with a strange expression, then made a face. "Oh, Merlin's tattered socks, how utterly terrifying!"
Fred, beside him, nodded with a very serious expression. "Yes, truly terrifying!" Then both of them burst into giggles.
Just then, a deep, resonant voice echoed behind them. "To explore the essence of things, to discover their characteristics, and to devise targeted solutions—this is always the direction of research in the field of Dark Arts Defense."
Everyone gathered around jumped in surprise, turning to see Professor Lockhart. They quickly greeted him in unison. But then, a terrifying figure emerged from behind Professor Lockhart.
Professor Snape!
In an instant, the once joyful office fell silent. Terribly silent.
Ha! Look who's the least popular guest at our little gathering? Lockhart offered a silent smirk to his former schoolmate, Snape, making Snape's face grow even fouler. He had come to retrieve the manuscript for his book, Severus's Potion Class, from Lockhart. He had recently made a new discovery while researching a particular potion's properties and needed to make some specialized revisions to parts of the content.
Seeing the boisterous young wizards in the office now, he merely snorted, then casually stood to the side, arms crossed. "Professor Lockhart, if you don't mind, may I observe how you conduct your lessons for the children?"
Intentionally trying to vex the students, was he? Lockhart sensed Snape's malice and chuckled. "Of course, anytime." He wouldn't feel awkward just because another professor was present; he seemed quite accustomed to displaying his wisdom in front of others.
The lesson continued as usual. He clapped his hands, signaling the young wizards to pay attention. "According to our routine, it's now question time. Who has a question?"
Second-year Harry Potter and fourth-year Cedric Diggory both raised their hands simultaneously. Lockhart smiled and gestured for Cedric to go first.
Cedric looked quite distressed. "Professor Kettleburn has been serving as your assistant these past few days, leading us in fighting dragons around the castle, and many students have been burned, Professor. Do we have any way to deal with dragons?"
Professor Kettleburn? Assistant?
Snape, standing to the side, stiffened abruptly. Professor Kettleburn was substituting for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class? Between the Death Eaters and the Chamber of Secrets at school recently, he truly hadn't had the time to notice this. He then fixed his gaze intently on Lockhart: You'd call that old fool Kettleburn to substitute, but not me? I can do it too! I can also be a substitute professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts! You accursed man, you stole my Defense Against the Dark Arts position, and now you won't even let me substitute? You smug, perpetually cheerful fellow must think that I, the Potions Master, who was bullied as a child, bullied throughout my schooling, and is so "unassuming," am clearly not as suitable as that Kettleburn, who is always clamoring for adventure. Right, Lockhart? Answer me!
Ahem, regardless of Snape's internal monologue, Lockhart was now teaching very earnestly.
"There are many ways to deal with dragons, but that falls under the purview of Care of Magical Creatures. Perhaps you should consult your Care of Magical Creatures professor for more suitable answers." It wouldn't be appropriate for him to teach it; that would clearly be an affront to the other professors.
Cedric's face fell, as if he were constipated. "But our Care of Magical Creatures professor is Professor Kettleburn!" Getting that old professor to elaborate on the habits of every dragon species in the world, their interactions, or even their breeding secrets, would be incredibly detailed—no one knew more than he did. But when it came to actually fighting dragons... one only had to look at the old professor, who had only one and a half limbs remaining, to understand. In truth, many experts in Care of Magical Creatures, and even Herbology and Dark Creatures Defense, relied on innate talent, like Hagrid. There were indeed masters who followed an academic research path, but they were few.
Just then, a voice, rich with a deep, magnetic quality, provided the answer directly. "Extinguishing Charm!"
Seeing that everyone was looking at him, Professor Snape's lips curled slightly. He strode forward like a giant bat, coming before the young wizards and pushing Professor Lockhart to the side. He looked at the students. "The Extinguishing Charm. The incantation is 'Extinguo.'"
"It is precisely because of this charm that dragons, once the apex of magical creatures in ancient times, now pose no more threat to wizards than a common Troll." Professor Snape wasn't targeting every Gryffindor; at least his demeanor towards Cedric was quite gentle. He was a student whom all professors admired. "You may come to my office after class, and I shall teach you this spell."
With that, he turned to Lockhart and held out his hand. Lockhart blinked, taking a moment to realize that "old Snape" was requesting the manuscript. He quickly pulled it from a neatly organized stack on the shelf. Snape snatched it, then walked directly toward the office door, disappearing from sight almost instantly.
"!!!"
Lockhart had no idea what had suddenly possessed Snape. He gestured for Cedric to sit down, then turned to Harry. "So, what question do you have?"