A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

The three walked out of the auditorium and followed a stone path in front of the door to an open space.

It was past nine o'clock at night, and it was completely dark.

"What's going on? Why are you all acting so strangely?" Harry broke free from their arms and asked angrily.

Ron glanced at him. "Harry, you've been exposed."

"What—" Harry suddenly choked, a tremendous fear gripping his very being. "You mean, the Parseltongue thing?"

"We heard you speaking to that big black snake just now, in another language."

Ron's words made his heart sink. He desperately tried to justify himself, "But I did it to save Justin's life! If I hadn't told the snake not to attack him—"

"Was that what you meant back then?" Ron interrupted him.

"Of course! You were there too..."

"Dude, the way you're talking is kind of scary... like you're giving it orders, urging it to keep attacking or something."

Hermione said sadly, "Harry, I think... the reason might be that Parseltongue sounds really evil. Your voice back then was a hoarse hissing sound with a terrifying echo, which sounded really creepy."

"Professor Hyp said that Slytherin was seen as a dark wizard by others because he used his Parseltongue talent to control snakes and make them serve him without any scruples."

Meanwhile, Felix approached Dumbledore later that day, and the two talked for a long time.

"Felix... your keen insight surprises me. I'll inform the castle's portrait painters and professors to keep working for a while longer. During the Christmas holidays, most of the young wizards will go home, and the castle will be much emptier then. We can then launch a full-scale search..."

"Dumbledore, have you considered the Parsleyan issue?"

"Yes, perhaps Parsleyanism is the key to unlocking the secret chamber, but I think you'll find a way, Felix?"

"Of course. However, regarding the fighting club..."

Dumbledore remained noncommittal. "If Professor Lockhart doesn't object, I have no problem with it."

Will Lockhart object? The Duel Club is already his.

Felix rose with satisfaction, took a few steps, then suddenly stopped. "Excuse my bluntness, Headmaster Dumbledore, haven't you considered telling Harry Potter directly? He and his friends have been investigating the clues to the Chamber of Secrets."

Dumbledore fell silent. "I'm not sure yet, Felix. Harry's Parseltongue reminds me of something, and I need to figure it out..."

……

That night, Harry tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He watched through the gaps in the curtains as snowflakes drifted past the castle windows, feeling utterly lost.

He recalled the advice the Sorting Hat had given him.

"I belong to Gryffindor," he emphasized to himself.

Harry initially thought this day would be the second most difficult day of his school year (the first being the day Ron received Mrs. Weasley's yelling letter), but he realized he was wrong. The next morning, the news spread throughout Hogwarts, and everyone looked at him strangely.

It was as if, at any moment, he would suddenly open his mouth full of fangs and bite their heads off.

Harry spent most of the afternoon hiding in the abandoned underground classroom, watching Hermione brew Polyjuice Potion with Ron.

Harry watched Hermione toss bunches of sedge into the cauldron, and then he suddenly remembered something. "Hermione, you said Professor McGonagall wanted to see you yesterday. What was it about?"

Ron looked up and stopped dozing off.

Hermione's expression immediately brightened, and she excitedly announced, "My paper has finally been published!"

Harry had almost forgotten about it. He had been looking forward to it, but more than three months had passed, and the paper had completely disappeared from his mind.

"It's really strange that it took so long to publish this," Ron said.

"That's because I spent more than two months just revising the paper, not to mention the review time. Yesterday they sent me a manuscript acceptance letter, a copy of the Daily Prophet, and a sample copy of 'Who Decides Ancient Runes'—delivered by Professor McGonagall."

The little witch was in a good mood. She poked some leeches directly into the bottom of the pot and stirred it continuously.

"Why are there two newspapers?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"The main body of the paper was published in the magazine 'Who Decides Ancient Runes,' but the Daily Prophet also reported on it," Hermione said, squinting her eyes. She was quite pleased with it.

She carefully kept the copy of "The Daily Prophet" and "Who Decides the Ancient Magic Script" to take home during the summer vacation.

Friday is finally over, and the weekend is here.

On Saturday morning, the trio hid in a corner of the common room. Harry was getting increasingly agitated. He felt that everyone who passed by him would give him a sidelong glance, and even their voices would suddenly drop.

But the attitude of the young Gryffindor wizards was really not bad. Harry could clear a corridor by walking out now, and his deterrent power was comparable to that of Mr. Filch, the castle caretaker.

Because his cat had been petrified, this gentleman had recently adopted a different strategy than before—hiding in the shadows and waiting for the forbidden little wizards to come to him.

Using his familiarity with the castle, he arrested three couples who had violated the ban by secretly dating, striking fear into the hearts of the young wizards at Hogwarts.

Around noon, Professor McGonagall came to collect a list of students who would be staying on campus for Christmas, something she does every year during the second week of December.

The three of them found Malfoy's name on the list, and they all chose to stay at the school.

After Professor McGonagall left, Harry and Ron played Wizard's Chess out of boredom, sighing from time to time.

Just as Hermione was about to say something, an owl flew in and landed on her shoulder.

Hermione opened the letter on the owl's leg; it was a note.

"It's a letter from Professor Hyp." She glanced up at Harry and Ron, her tone somewhat strange. "He's inviting Harry to come to his office with me tonight, saying it's important."

Harry was dumbfounded.

7 PM.

The three headed towards the office of ancient runes when Ron suddenly asked somewhat uneasily, "Can I go too? I mean, Professor Hyp is looking for Harry..."

"You've asked for the third time now. Professor Hyp mentioned you, saying he'd be very happy if you were interested," Hermione said impatiently.

The three people stood at the door. She knocked on the door and then pushed it open to enter.

Professor Hep was leaning over the table reading a book, a rare, sarcastic smile on his face.

Such an expression is quite rare. Hermione quickly glanced at the book title, "Armando Dippet: Master or Idiot?", by Rita Skeeter.

The little witch found a copy of the Daily Prophet next to the table. Dumbledore's picture was on the front page, and the headline was "Dumbledore's Big Mistake".

Her curiosity was immediately piqued, but Professor Hyp pressed the book down on top of the newspaper.

Hermione: "..."

"Good evening, Professor Hyp," Harry greeted him awkwardly.

"Come, you three, please sit down."

Felix sat on a sofa, facing three young wizards.

"Professor, what brings you here?" Harry asked nervously, "Don't mention Parsley, don't mention Parsley."

"Potter, you're a Parseltongue."

Harry: "..."

"Professor, I swear, it wasn't me who opened the Chamber of Secrets! There's another Parseltongue in the castle, and he's the real heir to Slytherin!" Harry shouted excitedly, almost revealing the existence of Polyjuice Potion and Malfoy.

"Calm down," Felix said, summoning three glasses of orange juice with his wand. "Nobody said you opened the secret room."

"Then come find me—"

Harry was a little confused, but Professor Hyp across from him gestured to the orange juice floating in front of him, so he picked up the glass and took a sip.

Hermione and Ron also took small sips.

"My purpose in contacting you is simple: I want to learn your snake language."

"puff!"

"Cough cough cough!"

"cough!"

"Professor, what did you say?" Harry was incredulous. He would pay any price to get rid of his Parsleyan talent. But now, someone was actually learning Parsley on their own initiative?