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Just as Harry and Anthony enjoyed Professor Sprout's cookies ("Normally I don't recommend you eat too much late-night snacks, Mr. Potter"), a silly owl crashed into the window cleaned especially clean by house-elves. The cat darted out from the bedroom. Jumped onto the windowsill in a few steps. Swished its tail eyeing the barn owl covetously.
He carefully opened the window. Scooped the owl in from outside. He just reached out to take the note from its leg when this guy pecked his hand. The cat immediately pounced and pinned it down.
"No," Anthony said dissatisfied. Forcibly lifted the cat's paw. Took down the note. He hadn't yet settled accounts for it attacking Professor Quirrell.
As soon as the cat released, the owl immediately flapped up. Jumped up and down between the desk and large chandelier. Flew circles around Harry.
Harry laughed. Dodged the enthusiastic owl. "Hey, what are you doing?"
Anthony unfolded the note and glanced. Then knew why the owl wouldn't let him take the letter.
"For you, Potter."
"Me?" Harry asked puzzled. "This isn't my owl."
"Your owl might have other business," Anthony said.
Harry took that small piece of parchment. From Hagrid, inviting Harry to his hut for a chat. Anthony could see this wasn't the news Harry expected. Because disappointment flashed across his face. Looked down and read again. Then put the note in his pocket.
"Hagrid must be very worried about you," Anthony said. Checked the time again. "But don't go find him tonight. Tomorrow, Potter. Today's almost curfew time."
Harry nodded. Anthony stood up. "Come on, I'll walk you back to Gryffindor Tower."
"No, no need," Harry quickly refused. "I know the way."
Anthony shook his head. "It's fine. I was just going out to see if there are students wandering at night..." He took out a small box of cookies from the drawer and pushed it over. Originally prepared to share with students after exams. "By the way, take this. As a reward for saving Davies. Not much, but tastes pretty good."
Harry's face flushed. He said somewhat embarrassed, "Even without me, Professor Flitwick..."
"Professor Flitwick having a way doesn't mean you don't deserve a reward," Anthony said firmly. "Alright, we both don't want to see angry Mrs. Norris, right?"
"Can't we really go to the Headmaster's office once, Professor? Just a few minutes. I promise I won't exceed curfew time... well, won't exceed too much." Walking on ancient stone bricks with Anthony, Harry couldn't help bringing up old matters.
Firelight illuminated the long corridor. Because curfew was approaching, the few students on the road all hurried. Even if they ran into Harry, they just looked at him strangely. Then quickly hugged books and continued their way. A knight riding a pony in a portrait wanted to duel snake-speaker Harry. Was politely declined by Anthony.
Anthony asked puzzled, "Why do you so want to confirm your house, Potter?"
"I... I don't want to be Salazar Slytherin's descendant or something..." Harry said. Obviously knew himself this sounded foolish. "I don't want any connection with Slytherin."
"What's wrong with Slytherin?" Anthony asked.
Harry couldn't help frowning. He complained, "Slytherin's the house that produces Dark wizards. Malfoy always has that looking-down-his-nose attitude. Look how he treats Ron, Hermione, and Neville... He specifically opposes me! And Crabbe and Goyle. They're stupid and mean. Help Malfoy bully classmates."
He took a breath. Continued counting, "Nobody likes Snape. Snape doesn't like anyone either. But he practically hates me! And Voldemort. He killed my parents—he also came from Slytherin."
"Whoa, whoa," Anthony said. "Sounds like you have a grudge against Slytherin."
Harry said, "So, Professor, do you understand? I don't want any—even just a tiny bit—connection with Slytherin!"
"Alright, Mr. Potter," Anthony said. "Although I'm worried your family tree is hard to verify back that far, there are several things I think you should understand."
"First, although natural Parselmouths usually rely on family bloodline inheritance, Slytherin isn't the only clearly recorded Parselmouth. If I remember correctly, Herpo the Foul was also a Parselmouth... Well, you can choose whose great-grandson you'd rather be. Or go find if there are other Parselmouths." Although other Parselmouths were probably also Dark wizards, there should be some exceptions, right?
"Second, even if you really are Slytherin's great-great-great-great-great-grandson, doesn't mean you have any connection with him in personality or future fate. Third..." He said seriously, "I know Slytherin has some problems. But they're your classmates. Just, don't easily hate someone because they're Slytherin, okay? Fourth, things from a thousand years ago are hard to know. Maybe when Salazar Slytherin founded the house, students inside were all enthusiastic and kind like you."
He spoke this hypothesis he himself felt had slim probability. Couldn't help recalling the Basilisk he killed. That obviously human-designed tunnel needed snake language to open doors. And Slytherin himself was a Parselmouth. If not Potter's ancestors who did it, then Slytherin's suspicion was great—on the other hand, maybe Potter's ancestors and Slytherin were originally the same person.
He had difficulty understanding why anyone would think keeping a Basilisk at school was a good idea. But then again, he actually didn't quite understand why Hagrid thought letting Acromantulas breed in the Forbidden Forest was a good idea. But Hogwarts obviously agreed with his approach.
Perhaps in that distant era, people enjoyed keeping a cute, not-so-fluffy giant snake. In the era without Hogwarts Express, students might have ridden Basilisks to school.
"I'm skeptical about that," Harry muttered. But seemed more relaxed.
At the Fat Lady's portrait entrance, they saw several couples talking quietly before curfew. Seeing Harry's thin figure appear in the corridor, they were all startled. Hurriedly said goodnight and left. In the corner was still a couple kissing inseparably. The girl with already messy hair only noticed everyone was preparing to leave after classmates reminded her. Blushed and kissed her boyfriend then rushed into the hole behind the portrait.
A senior student who'd been arguing with his lover, previously begging in a low voice, irritably pounded the wall—from his intended departure direction, not Gryffindor—provocatively said to Harry, "Hey, Potter! Can you say a few more of that, hiss hiss? Do I sound like it, future Dark Lord?"
"Not at all," Harry said loudly. "If I were a snake, hearing such terrible pronunciation I'd definitely faint."
"Which house are you from?" Anthony asked.
The other then noticed a professor was following behind. He shrank toward shadows. Said, "Ravenclaw, uh... Professor?"
For an instant, Anthony could hear a small voice in his mind mimicking Snape saying, "Ravenclaw pitifully loses five points because you didn't remember the professor's name." He shook his head. Threw out this absurd point deduction reason. Said to Harry, "Want to demonstrate, Potter?"
"Professor Anthony?" Harry questioned.
"This Ravenclaw gentleman is curious about Parseltongue pronunciation... Honestly, I'm curious too," Anthony smiled. "If you're willing to teach him, I think he should be happy to learn. Just say these words, 'Release him.'"
"Release him," Harry said.
Anthony shook his head. "Wrong. That's English."
"Hiss release him."
Anthony couldn't help laughing. "That's still English, Mr. Potter. I'm worried you can't be a snake."
"Release hiss hiss him—I can't." Harry said frustrated. "Maybe only when face-to-face with a snake can I speak Parseltongue."
Anthony looked around. In the corner happened to be a hair tie some student left behind. He picked up the red hair tie. Concentrated trying to turn it into a snake.
"Alright, make do with this, Potter," Anthony said. "Please forgive me. My Transfiguration really isn't very good."
He coiled the snake still bearing yellow butterfly patterns around his arm. Both Harry and that senior Ravenclaw laughed. Harry laughed, "Hiss hiss hiss hiss."
Once again, he sounded extremely evil. As if instigating that snake with small eyes looking at him gently to bite Anthony's fingers with its cloth teeth. The Ravenclaw's face paled. Stepped back a large step.
"This time was Parseltongue," Anthony said. "What were you just saying, Potter? I really didn't understand. Please translate."
"Hiss—sorry." Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. "I just said it looks much better than that Slytherin one."
"Ah, thank you for the compliment," Anthony said. Turned to the Ravenclaw. "Did you learn?"
"No, no," that senior Ravenclaw said. After several students wanting to return to Gryffindor dormitory passed them, they also stood outside the portrait watching Harry teach Parseltongue. The Weasley twins already started trying.
The Fat Lady said dissatisfied, "Are you going in or not?"
"Wait hiss hiss a moment," Fred answered shaking his head.
"We shouldn't start with long difficult sentences, Potter," Anthony said. "Still try that sentence. Simpler, 'Release him.'"
"Hiss hiss," Harry said.
This sentence still seemed very sinister and evil. But Anthony said firmly, "That's right. This is what I heard at the pitch today. Exactly the same."
"I think every sentence sounds the same," that Ravenclaw muttered.
"That might be because you didn't study seriously?" Anthony said. Looked down and smiled at Harry. "I think Potter was telling that snake to release Davies then. Well done, Mr. Potter. Really glad you mastered a rare foreign language."
"That's not just a foreign language, Professor Anthony!" a student called. "Historically, all Parselmouths are Dark wizards!"
"Really?" Anthony asked. Looked at Harry nodding disappointedly. "Then we might be witnessing history: a Parselmouth who's not a Dark wizard."
Honestly, from a Dark wizard's perspective, Anthony saw no connection between Parseltongue and Dark wizards.
When Harry worriedly told him speaking Parseltongue meant he might be a Dark wizard, Anthony even couldn't help suspecting if Parseltongue was something similar to Necromancy. After all, he didn't think playing with bones meant he was a Dark wizard then either. But unless there was some definition like "magic allowing people to communicate with snakes is Dark Magic," he didn't understand what problem there was chatting with some non-human creatures.
"But, anyway, at least in this matter..." Anthony said. "I heard Potter say 'Release him.'"
"Wrong. It's 'Release hiss him,'" George corrected.
Fred was sticking out his tongue imitating a snake. Hearing this immediately withdrew his arm from Lee Jordan's shoulder. "I hiss understood."
In the Fat Lady's annoyed complaints, Gryffindor students crawled through the hole one by one. Anthony reminded that still-dazed Ravenclaw student about curfew time. The other glanced at Harry. Silently strode away.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said. Looked left and right. Quietly said, "But what I said then wasn't release him."
Anthony said surprised, "Wasn't it?" He remembered Harry told him so before.
Harry said, "At first it was. But later was 'Please release him' and 'Thank you.'"
"Oh." Anthony thought. Smiled. "I admit, I didn't study particularly seriously either." He pushed Harry. "Go back, polite Mr. Potter. Don't worry about your foreign language talent. Now what you're encountering, eighty or ninety percent is because others can't understand what you're saying... just like me."
"Alright, Professor," Harry said. Climbed through the open portrait.
Anthony looked at that snake-turned hair tie—he forgot to have students bring this lost item back when entering the common room—said, "Release hiss me."
Then he realized, according to Professor McGonagall's theory, this thing was essentially still a hair tie. Whether he said it right or not, the other wouldn't really release him.
The next day, Anthony finally saw Dumbledore eating breakfast at the staff table. Dumbledore was carefully not letting his silver-white beard dip in raspberry jam. While chatting with Professor McGonagall about something.
"Good morning, Henry," Professor McGonagall said. Looked at him meaningfully.
"Good morning, Minerva, Pomona. Good morning, Charity," Anthony pulled out a chair. Sat in the position between Professor Sprout and Professor Burbage. At Professor Burbage's insistence, he also started using her first name.
Professor Sprout was happily spreading thick butter on scones. Anthony asked, "Any news today?"
Professor Sprout looked up. "Oh yes. Albus appeared."
"What about Davies? Awake?" Anthony asked with concern.
"Woke up once long ago. But for treatment, Poppy put him back to sleep," Professor Sprout said.
Professor Burbage said, "You came late, Henry. We already discussed these topics once." She pushed a stack of pancakes before Anthony.
"Then are there any topics not discussed?" Anthony asked. Poured himself a cup of pumpkin juice.
"I was just about to mention this to Albus, Henry," Professor McGonagall said across seats. "The Weasley twins woke everyone in Gryffindor dormitory before morning Quidditch training—possibly except girls—claiming they're also Parselmouths. The most evil Dark wizards. Will curse all who oppose them with snake evil language. Make seven hundred seventy-seven snakes pluck people's hair at midnight until only seven strands remain. Do you have any views on this matter?"
"Uh..." Anthony said. "When's before Quidditch training?" He saw many people at Gryffindor's long table yawning.
"Six in the morning," Professor McGonagall said. "They hissed. Banged every dormitory door. And read their Parseltongue declaration. So at six-ten, Percy Weasley stood outside my door."
"That curse sounds hiss quite terrifying hiss," Dumbledore said seriously.
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