Chapter 64 I Am Parsley
Late at night, in the dormitory.
Basil was dozing.
But at this moment, he wasn't thinking about his trip to Diagon Alley with Hermione during the day.
Nor was he recalling the delicacies of the Christmas dinner: a hundred plump roast turkeys, mountains of roast meat and boiled potatoes, platters of delicious sausages, bowls of peas with butter, dishes of thick, rich meat sauce and cranberry sauce…
and the colorful firecrackers on the table that exploded like cannon fire every few steps, releasing blue smoke that seemed to swallow you whole, containing gifts like white mice, top hats, wizard chess pieces, and more.
In fact, he was observing Harry.
Don't misunderstand, he wasn't influenced by the English gay culture. Rather, he didn't know if Harry would be out invisibility tonight, if he would encounter the Mirror of Erised, or if he would talk to Dumbledore.
Movies and novels are two different mediums.
He hadn't read the novel.
And the movie didn't specifically show which day of Christmas it was.
Therefore, for the diary destruction plan to proceed smoothly, he needed to observe Harry in real time, watching his movements.
"Basil?" Harry climbed to his bedside, drew back the deep red flannel curtains, and asked softly.
Basil didn't answer. He knew Harry was just feigning concern.
Sure enough, in his mind's Hogwarts, Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
Then, he tiptoed and put on the Invisibility Cloak.
He vanished into the darkness instantly.
If this Hogwarts wasn't essentially Basil's other body,
he probably wouldn't have noticed Harry's presence.
He was now very curious about where Harry would go.
In the movies, Harry only considered going to the restricted section of the library because he hadn't found out who Nicolas Flamel was; what about now?
Now Harry had reached the fourth floor.
But on the fifth floor of the library, there was a shortcut to the second floor, hidden by tapestries.
However, the possibility that Harry wanted to go to the library couldn't be completely ruled out.
Basil also began searching for Dumbledore's trail.
"You old pervert!"
Basil was startled, letting out a burp reeking of turkey and cake.
Dumbledore was standing right behind Harry. The Mirror of Erised floated and moved alongside him.
Basil had never seen such a sophisticated Disenchantment; not only were voices, body temperatures, and appearances concealed,
but even magical magnetic fields were almost completely hidden. Perhaps it was due to Dumbledore's superior Occlumency?
But this was astonishing, considering Hogwarts was essentially Basil's body. Dumbledore had essentially fooled Hogwarts as well.
Right now, Dumbledore stood with his hands behind his back, observing Harry's every move with great interest, sometimes even getting very close.
If Basil hadn't known Harry's identity as a Voldemort Horcrux, and if Dumbledore hadn't been observing the Soul and Lily's Love Charm, he probably would have truly thought Dumbledore was an old pervert.
Even so, Basil couldn't help but mourn for Harry.
He had now discovered Harry's destination—the girls' washroom on the third floor, the one with Myrtle, the one he'd mentioned had a secret passage in this morning.
Right now, even the old pervert Dumbledore was looking at Harry with the same look he'd seen a pervert.
"Was I wrong? Shouldn't I have let Harry grow up at the Dursleys, to the point that he's taken a liking to the girls' washroom? Is Harry hated by Petunia not just because he's a wizard? Sigh, it seems Figg alone isn't enough; Harry should have attended a proper primary school too. That way, the problem would have been discovered and corrected earlier."
Just as Dumbledore was filled with regret, Harry pushed open the washroom door.
"Who is it?" a pitiful female voice, accompanied by gurgling sounds, rang out, "Peeves? Trying to make fun of me again?"
"I'm not Peeves, Myrtle," Harry replied boldly.
He suddenly realized he could impersonate a ghost. Having known Nearly Headless Nick well, he knew ghosts could also become invisible.
Besides, Myrtle was a loner and didn't know other ghosts.
*Pop!* A sound of water gushing from the toilet filled the air,
followed by a splash on the floor.
A short, plump girl's ghost emerged from the toilet door.
Her face was the most melancholic and somber Harry had ever seen, half-hidden by long, straight hair and thick, pearly-white glasses.
"What?" she asked, her face tense.
"I wanted to ask where the secret passage is, in this bathroom," Harry asked.
"You're not a ghost?" Myrtle shrieked. "Do you think I'm that easy to fool? I was just sitting here, contemplating my own problems, at Christmas! And you come here to make fun of poor Myrtle again!"
"Even though I'm dead, I still have feelings!"
"My life here has been filled with sorrow, not joy, and now that I'm dead, people still won't leave me alone!"
As she spoke, tears streamed down her clear little eyes.
"I never said I was a ghost!" Harry quickly said.
…
While Harry was trying his best to calm Myrtle down, Dumbledore became serious.
He wasn't relieved that Harry wasn't a psychopath.
"Could the creature that killed Myrtle have come from this secret passage? The exit of Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets is the girls' lavatory? How did Harry know there was a secret passage here? Quirrell or… Tom?"
"But Harry certainly won't get any information. This secret passage and chamber can't be discovered by ghosts, even if they can walk through walls."
"If they could, this chamber wouldn't have remained undiscovered for thousands of years,"
Dumbledore thought, stroking his beard.
However, this was without Basil's intervention.
As mentioned in *Our Companions—The Wand*: "[If you're a wizard, you should be able to use almost any tool to express your magic]."
And Hogwarts, if considered as a whole, isn't it also a tool?
Under the cover of the ancient castle's magnetic field, two Confusion Charms, appearing close to Myrtle and Harry's scalps, struck them one after the other.
Myrtle then began to speak: "I'll assume you weren't joking with me."
Then, with an air of honor, she recounted her own death, "...I only remember seeing a pair of terrifyingly large yellow eyes. My whole body seemed to be grabbed, and then I floated away. I died."
"If you insist on saying there's a secret passage here, it should be where those eyes appeared," Myrtle floated to the pool and pointed to a bronze dragon head with small snakes engraved on its side.
"I've heard the rumors too—I was killed by the monster in the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin, although some say it was Hagrid's monster (Harry exclaims: Hagrid!), but he's clearly a scapegoat. This dragon head never draws water. And it has the snake mark on it…"
Myrtle laughed smugly. "This must be the entrance to the secret passage. The way it opens might be related to Slytherin's most famous mark—Parsleyi."
"Parsleyi? What's that?" Harry didn't have time to think about Hagrid; he had a bad feeling.
"You don't know?" Myrtle's body swelled up; she was clearly even more smug.
"It's the ability to talk to snakes."
Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak, looking dejected. "Then I am…Parsleyi."
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(End of Chapter)