P-P-Parselmouth?

Harry opened his eyes and groaned softly. He could feel pain in every part of his body, but his head throbbed horribly. He had never experienced anything like this, and after all the beatings he had received from the Dursleys, that was saying something.

"Potter," said Madam Pomfrey as she saw him wake up. "Here, drink this; it will make the pain go away."

She waved her wand and the phial of potion carefully came to Harry's mouth; the liquid quickly travelled down his throat. The moment he finished drinking the potion, he sighed in relief as the pain reduced drastically.

"What happened?" murmured Harry, feeling disoriented.

"Cracked skull," replied Madam Pomfrey as she filled another goblet with a blue coloured potion. "I've healed it, but you need to be here for the next two days. A broken skull is a nasty business and has to be taken care of delicately to avoid brain damage. Here, drink this."

Harry grimaced when she tipped the contents of the goblet down his throat. He saw Daphne sitting in the corner, her eyes bloodshot, holding his broomstick.

"Ahem … hi Daphne …"

"How're you feeling?" asked Daphne softly as she rushed towards him. "Your teammates had been here an hour ago, but you were unconscious. They returned the broom to me and said that they'll come back later."

"I'm fine," muttered Harry. "Not sure what was wrong with the bludger, though."

"Someone had tampered with it, without a doubt," Daphne scowled. "I tried to complain, but Dumbledore put it off as a tragic accident."

"That's nothing out of the ordinary," he said wryly.

The next few hours went by with Harry being visited by some of his acquaintances and also the Quidditch team. When it was time for dinner, Madam Pomfrey poured a few drops of nutrient potion down his throat as he was not fit to get up yet.

"This has got to be the most uncomfortable place to sleep in," said Harry quietly as he closed his eyes, feeling quite frustrated.

Daphne simply smiled. "It's only for two days. You can then be back in your room. Is there anything I can help you with? Curfew is in five minutes, so I'll have to go, but if there's something you want ..."

"I'll be fine, Daphne," he said, with a hint of a fond smile on his face. "Don't worry about me."

Daphne smiled too. She leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead. "Good night, Harry," she murmured. Brushing his hair lightly with her fingers, she smiled once again and left.

Harry took a few deep breaths. His cheeks were flushed and his pulse was racing. Unable to help himself, he grinned, staring up at the ceiling with wide, happy eyes.

Maybe this accident wasn't so bad after all.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Hours later, Harry winced as he woke up around pitch blackness, his head still throbbing. For a moment, he wondered why he had woken up when he realised that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark. With a yelp, he cast a wandless banishing charm at whomever or whatever was next to him.

"Lumos!"

A ball of light illuminated in his palm, bathing his surroundings with brightness. "What the hell – Dobby!"

"Harry Potter came back to school," whispered the elf miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby?"

"I need more proof that something is wrong before I quit school, Dobby," said Harry, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Did your master put you up to this? Why does Lucius Malfoy want me out of the school?"

Dobby gasped when Harry mentioned his master's name, but shook his head in desperation. "Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his bludger would be enough –"

"Your bludger?" snarled Harry angrily. "What the hell is wrong with you? That blasted bludger cracked my skull! You better clear off soon, Dobby or I might strangle you!"

"Dobby is used to death threats, sir," said the elf weakly. "Dobby gets them five times a day at home. You must go leave, Harry Potter! Dark deeds are planned at Hogwarts this year. Great danger looms the castle and Harry Potter must not stay here! Not now, when history is to repeat itself, with the Chamber of Secrets open once more."

Dobby's eyes widened as he picked up a newspaper and started hitting himself with it. But Harry vanished the newspaper with a wave of his hand and summoned the elf closer. "You mean to say the Chamber is real?" he asked quietly. "That there really is a monster in the Chamber of Secrets? But why would it target me? I'm not a Muggle-born. I'm the direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor himself!"

"Ask no more of poor Dobby," sobbed the elf. "Harry Potter must go home!"

"When was the Chamber opened the last time?" Harry pushed impatiently. "Who did it then? How is Lucius Malfoy responsible for it this time?"

Suddenly, there were footsteps outside the Hospital Wing. Dobby squeaked in fear and disappeared with a near-silent pop. Harry extinguished the light and pretended to go back to sleep when he heard people enter.

"Find Poppy, quickly," urged Dumbledore to his deputy as he levitated the boy to one of the beds. When Madam Pomfrey came to check on her newest patient, the aged headmaster explained what had happened.

"There has been another attack," he told her gravely. "He's been petrified."

Harry turned slightly and opened his eyes minutely, only to see the still, unconscious body of Colin Creevey. He swallowed when he could smell the burnt plastic of the Muggle camera all the way to his bed.

"What could this mean, Albus?" whispered McGonagall in fear.

"It means the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again," declared Dumbledore gravely. His tone was soft, but his eyes burning with rage.

"But Albus ... surely ... who?"

"The question is not only who," muttered Dumbledore, his eyes falling on the sleeping form of Harry Potter. "The question we must also be asking ourselves is how ... and why ..."

Albus Dumbledore could not begin to describe his anger at the attack on the students of Hogwarts. The last time it had happened, he had not been able to do anything, letting the situation get out of hand. He had suspected that Tom Riddle was behind it, but he didn't have proof. Being a Parselmouth was not a crime, and there was no evidence at all to support his theory, so the sixteen-year-old boy had gotten away with it, culminating with the death of that Ravenclaw student and Hagrid being expelled for crimes he didn't commit.

That was when Albus had realised the extent of Tom's cruelty and lack of empathy for anyone but himself. If this had happened last year, he would have immediately suspected Voldemort to be behind it, because the very much weakened Dark Lord had been inside the castle, even if he was on Albus' leash. But this year, he had not detected anything. He had been hoping for a peaceful year as he tried his best to repair the damaged relationship between him and Harry by maybe teaching the young wizard Alchemy, but that had not happened.

He knew Harry hated Muggles but was it possible that he hated Muggle-borns as well? The boy was the only Parselmouth in the school – the only one in the country – so there couldn't be anyone else who might have done it. He knew that it wasn't Voldemort who was behind these attacks since his sources said that the Dark Lord was currently far away, deep in the Albanian forests, so that meant someone else was responsible. But how had Harry found the Chamber so quickly? It had taken Tom years to find it. But wait ... was the boy a Parselmouth at all? Was he jumping to conclusions because of the Horcrux in Harry's scar?

He would have to confirm his theory and maybe look out for any other sources that might have enabled the opening of the Chamber of Secrets. Albus didn't want to jump to conclusions. He still felt guilty for causing Harry's pain, even if he felt it was necessary at the time, so he wouldn't suspect the boy until he had proof.

Now, how would he find out if Harry really was a Parselmouth?

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

"Nothing," sighed Daphne as she plopped herself on the couch beside Harry in the Room of Requirement. "There is absolutely no information about the opening of the Chamber of Secrets in the library."

Harry's eye twitched in annoyance.

"What sort of creature is capable of petrifying its victims, anyway?" she asked curiously.

"The only thing I can think of that causes petrification such as this is the gaze of a Gorgon, but they are very limited in number and don't exist in Britain. Besides, I'm sure that wards would have picked it up and Dumbledore would've surely noticed it. No, this is probably the work of a wizard. There is absolutely no proof that a magical creature was involved in any way."

The two spent the next couple of hours together in animated conversation while they finished their homework. Finally, after dinner, Harry exhaled heavily. "I have detention with Lockhart tonight, Daphne. I'll see you tomorrow."

"What did you do this time?" asked Daphne in surprise.

Harry smirked faintly. "Fred, George and I decided to play a little prank on him in class. When he asked us to imitate werewolves, Fred and George cast glamour charms while I used a Confundus. Needless to say, for just a couple of seconds it worked and he pissed himself in fear. Naturally, we got detention. According to Sirius, the detention is more than worth pranking that idiot. I swear, I wonder if he's a wizard at all! I haven't seen him perform magic except to beautify himself!"

"It's just for tonight, isn't it?"

"No," he replied, sounding annoyed. "It's a total of seven days. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Daphne."

After Harry left the Room of Requirement and was heading towards the Defence classroom, he heard a voice; a voice so chilling that he nearly tripped.

"Come ... come to me ... let me rip you ... let me tear you ... let me kill you ... so hungry ... must kill this time ..."

Harry's heart was beating furiously. What the hell was that? Pressing his ear to the wall, he began following the voice, his strides long and quick.

"I smell blood ... KILL!"

Harry broke into a run, turning a corner only to gasp in surprise. A second-year student, Justin Finch-Fletchley, was lying on the ground, petrified, while the clearly petrified form of Nearly Headless Nick floated in front of him. What was going on? There was another attack? He had to inform a teacher! He needed to get Professor Flitwick at once.

As he turned a corner, he crashed headfirst into a bunch of second-year Hufflepuffs.

"Oh, sorry," apologised Hannah, as she got to her feet. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Just then, they heard a scream of panic. They turned to find Wayne Hopkins and Ernie Macmillan looking at the petrified forms of Justin and Nick.

"T-There has been another a-attack," squeaked Hopkins, looking terrified. "We need to get the teachers."

When they turned around and hurried towards Professor Sprout's office, Harry's heart began to race. What was that voice? Whatever he had followed had led him to the petrified victims. Then Dobby was right; there was a Chamber of Secrets. And there was probably a monster inside which was hunting the Muggle-borns. He quietly made his way to the Defence classroom for his detention, lost in thought. How was he able to understand the monster? Did the creature speak English?

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Two weeks before the winter holidays, a sheet of parchment appeared on the notice board outside the Great Hall. Harry casually walked towards it, not bothering to talk to anyone. Suddenly, he had been the scrutiny of intense speculation because somehow, news had gotten out that he was the one to find Justin in the corridor and had been attempting to flee the scene when he ran into the Hufflepuffs. Harry didn't bother dignifying such stupidity with a response. Some of the students were looking at him with terrified expressions on their faces, but the others were quite indifferent. Harry must have been the first person to stumble onto the scene, end of story.

The notice informed them of a Duelling Club that was to be held that very evening. Harry was quite surprised and excited by that. He knew that Professor Flitwick was an International Duelling Champion, having won the adult championship several times. Being the winner of the Under-13 tournament, he was quite eager to learn from someone who had taken part in the circuit himself. There was also the fact that he greatly admired Professor Flitwick. So that evening, he found himself joining more than half the school in the Great Hall, where they stood surrounding the duelling podium that had been erected in the middle.

"Where's Flitwick?" asked Daphne in confusion. That's when she saw someone she didn't want to see at a duelling arena.

"Oh, Mother Magic, have mercy," muttered Harry. "I can't believe Dumbledore let this fool teach us duelling. This idiot can't even hold his wand right, so how is he going to teach us battle spells?"

"Maybe he knows something about duelling?" suggested Neville, sounding hopeful.

"Trust me, Neville, that buffoon can't duel to save his life," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. Several girls around them who had heard him gasped in outrage. He mentally snorted. They'll know the truth one day. If he hadn't been so busy studying for his fourth-year exams which were just two weeks away, he might have actually done something to get rid of the man.

"Do you think we can get out?" asked Blaise Zabini quietly.

"I doubt it," answered Daphne.

Harry nodded as he looked at the doors of the Hall which were closed. "She's right. We'd draw too much attention to ourselves and the last thing I need is to piss off Snape before my O.W.L.s. What was Snape thinking coming here anyway? I thought he hated students and teaching in general, so shouldn't that make him not agree to be Lockhart's assistant?"

Just as the words left his mouth, his attention was diverted. Snape fired a disarming spell at Lockhart, sending the other man flying away as he hit the end of the podium. Theo choked as he bit back a laugh, but Tracy began laughing outright.

"That was not a graceful landing," smiled Neville.

"He's probably embarrassed," said Susan, grinning widely. "Oh, look! He's trying to save face! I wonder why he didn't use a shield charm when he saw the incoming spell."

"That's probably because he doesn't know how to cast a shield," Daphne smirked.

"The Disarming Spell; an excellent demonstration, Professor Snape," Lockheart boomed, giving the audience a fancy yet pained smile. "Let's pair everyone off, shall we? Let them experience how it is to be guided by Gilderoy Lockheart himself! And of course, you, Professor Snape ..."

A pair of dark eyes narrowed dangerously as he spotted the bored looking Potter scion.

"I think we need another demonstration before we pair them up," said Snape, smiling nastily at Harry, "just to give the students a better picture of what a real mock-duel looks like. How about we choose Potter and Vaisley?"

"Yes, yes, that's a wonderful idea!" said Lockhart, beaming. "Mr Potter, Miss Vaisley, get up here!"

"Harry, be careful," muttered Blaise. "Henrietta Vaisley is known for her skills in Offensive Magic. She's also a cheat, so keep an eye out."

"Thanks, Blaise," acknowledged Harry quietly as he walked up to the podium. He seemed very calm and completely unperturbed.

"So, I finally get to duel the famous Harry Potter," Vaisley spat snidely. "Under-13 Duelling Champion, isn't it? Let's see what you've got!"

"Now, Harry," instructed Lockhart. "When she points her wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops – my wand is a little overexcited –"

Harry's face was expressionless as always, but mentally, he snorted in disbelief. He couldn't believe people actually fell for this man's lies! What was happening to the world? Was it so easy to fool people? Snape moved closer to Vaisley, bent down, and whispered something in her ear. Vaisley smirked too, but Harry didn't react. Really, they were such drama queens, the both of them. They were acting as though they had some secret weapon up their sleeves.

"Duellists, face each other," said Lockhart. Harry and Henrietta faced each other and merely inclined their heads, not willing to actually bow to the other.

"Three – two – one – go!" he shouted.

Harry flicked his wand as a jet of scarlet light headed towards Henrietta. The Slytherin girl shielded against the stunner and sent a bone-breaking curse of her own. Harry quickly dodged the spell and upped his attacks. Jets of multi-coloured light were being fired from both wands, but many could see a slight smirk on Harry's face.

"He's toying with her," announced Daphne, with a smirk of her own.

"I've read about that! It's considered one of the best strategies for duelling," exclaimed Susan. "You tend to frustrate your opponent by not actively seeking to finish them off. Such people make mistakes and you use that vulnerability against them."

"Ingenious," said Blaise softly.

"It won't work with everyone," Theo disagreed.

"Maybe not," murmured Daphne. "But Vaisley clearly has an ego, and when you're up against such people, frustrating them could help you win. And that's exactly what Harry is doing."

"I said disarm only!" shouted Lockhart apprehensively as he dived out of the way of a blasting curse. Henrietta snarled in anger as she cast another bone-breaking curse, only for Harry to grab the curse at the tip of his wand and reflect it back at the caster. This technique required a lot of skill, not to mention power, but Sirius had taught Harry well.

The flaw of that technique was that it would only work if the amount of magic used to reflect the spell by the second duellist was greater than the amount of magic used to cast the said spell by the first duellist. This effect was something which all Arithmancy students learnt in class to mathematically calculate the amount of magic required by duellists on either side and was a favourite question in the O.W.L. theatrical exam. Very few wizards could use this technique because it was quite hard to practically implement it. One had to be very quick at sensing magic and at mental mathematics for it to work.

Therefore, nobody expected a twelve-year-old wizard, however talented, to use it.

Henrietta Vaisley was not expecting that move. Due to the force of the magic reflected at her, she was blasted back the moment the curse struck her leg, shattering it painfully; she screamed. Harry's face was still expressionless, but Severus Snape could see the smug satisfaction in the boy's eyes.

The young Ravenclaw smirked at her, inclined his head to indicate that the duel had come to an end, and turned to join the audience, unaware of the hate being directed at him from the fallen Slytherin.

I will show that upstart kid his place, thought Vaisley furiously. She raised her wand and silently cast, 'Serpensotia!'

Before Harry could even comprehend what was going on, he felt something slam into him. His eyes widened when he saw three king cobras coiling around his body, positioned to strike. The students in the Hall, who had until then been cheering for him, became uncharacteristically still and silent, not breathing a word. There was thick panic in the air.

"How's that for a change, Potter?" screamed Vaisley in uncontrollable fury, unable to handle the humiliating defeat. "Let's see what a duelling champion can do now!"

With that, she cast a banishing charm at him. Harry had been completely still the whole time, having been immobilised by the three very poisonous snakes. Mentally, he was terrified, so he couldn't dodge the banishing charm. He fell on his butt, the three snakes hissing in pain and displeasure and just when they were about to bite him, he acted.

Harry didn't know what made him do it, but it was something inherent in him, something natural, so he said in a commanding voice.

"Stop! Do not bite me. Let go!"

Much to Harry's shock, the three snakes hissed again and replied, "Yes, speaker." They slithered away and were promptly vanished by Professor Snape, who had a shocked look on his face too.

Harry himself was frozen. What the hell was going on? How was he a Parselmouth? That skill was really rare and there was no one in Magical Britain who had that ability anymore. Sure, there were Parselmouths in the past, the most prominent of them being in the Slytherin family, but they had all died out, hadn't they? Harry didn't know much about Parseltongue except that it was quite feared in Magical Europe, especially Britain, but never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that he was a Parselmouth himself!

His eyes widened when he saw that everyone was staring at him in shock and fear. Oh, Merlin; the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. This was not good; not good at all.

And the worst part was that they had every right to suspect him. He didn't have a single Muggle-born in his group of friends. While he was cordial with several Muggle-borns like he was with the rest of the school, since he didn't really talk to people much in the first place, it was never a priority to befriend them. He had never labelled his schoolmates based on their blood-status, so it never struck him until now. All his 'friends' he usually hung out with his age were purebloods. He knew that he was not related to Salazar Slytherin, but the Slytherins were hardly the only Parselmouths in the world.

What was worrying was the fact that he had discovered this ability in front of half the school and there was no way to prevent it from being leaked out.

This was bad ... really bad.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

"He's a Parselmouth, Albus," said Severus Snape quietly as he sat down on the chair in front of the headmaster's desk.

Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat. Oh, how he wished he was wrong, but he doubted there was any other theory that would fit. Was it really Harry who had opened the Chamber? It seemed more and more likely as time went on.

"But – but surely not!" cried Professor McGonagall, spluttering in disbelief. "He's a Potter! He can't be a Parselmouth!"

"I saw it with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears," Snape replied, his tone bland as always. "Hundreds of students saw it as well. Miss Vaisley, though she lost her temper, performed her role admirably, but somehow, I didn't believe you when confided in me, Albus."

"You mean this was planned?" asked McGonagall, aghast. "Albus, how could you? Is that why Miss Vaisley was only suspended for a week and not expelled?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I had suspected that young Harry was a Parselmouth, but I had no way to prove it," he said quietly. "That's why I granted Gilderoy permission to have this little Duelling Club. I requested Severus orchestrate an event that would force Harry to reveal his talent if he's put in a tight spot. Being strangled and nearly bitten by three very poisonous snakes will offer a great incentive to protect yourself, which is exactly what happened. People who are scared will commit mistakes, which I confess, has happened to me as well. Smart, Harry may be, but he's still a twelve-year-old boy. He would never have seen this coming. Also, I've noticed a pattern in him. Ever since he won the Under-13 International Duelling Championship this past summer, he has become too sure of himself. Being accepted into the accelerated program and his exceptionally high grades have made him arrogant, and such people tend to overlook things. I simply took advantage of it."

"B-But why did you want to find out if he's a Parselmouth in the first place?"

Snape's mind was ticking as he put the pieces together. "Do you think he's responsible for the opening of the Chamber of Secrets?"

"That is a possibility I cannot discount," answered Dumbledore, as he sighed heavily. He closed his eyes, feeling the worst he had felt in eleven years. Where had he gone wrong with the boy? Was it all only because of the Dursleys? Was placing Harry there such a terrible mistake that he couldn't fix? Would the boy have turned out better if he had been allowed to grow up with Sirius and Amelia? He had always said that being smarter than most men made his mistakes that much larger, and this was yet another reminder of the burden that was thrust upon him. He had seen too much death and destruction in his life. What he wouldn't do to finally see lasting peace …

"No!" said McGonagall flatly. "I refuse to believe it. The son of James and Lily Potter attacking Muggle-borns! No, this can't be true, Albus!"

"It's probably closer to the truth than you realise, Minerva," said Dumbledore, sounding old and weary. "The boy hates Muggles. In fact, I have never heard him utter the word 'Muggle' without using the word 'filthy' as a prefix. From what I've observed, hating Muggles and Muggle-borns go hand in hand."

McGonagall was shocked and not a little disappointed. Snape's face was impassive, but his eyes had widened marginally. This was not what he had expected from James Potter's son. Mentally, he was cackling with glee. He wondered how his old nemesis would feel about this! Potter's own son hating Muggles and Muggle-borns; Potter's own son turning into a murderer, deciding to kill innocents … Oh, delicious irony! Perhaps he could celebrate this day with a bottle of vintage wine as well. What a perfect way to toast to James Potter's misery, even if the bloody bastard was dead. No matter; there was still Sirius Black's misery he could watch.

"We need to keep a very close eye on him," murmured Dumbledore, after a while. "Tell the rest of the staff, the Head Boy, Head Girl and all the prefects to keep an eye on his activities. Perhaps it's a blessing that the holidays are approaching soon. It will give me some time to think and also re-check the castle's protective enchantments."

"What?" snarled Snape. "Are we going to let him get away with this? I say we call the Aurors immediately and have the boy thrown in Azkaban! He should be expelled for this!"

"We don't have any proof to back up our claims, Severus," said Dumbledore, pointedly staring at the man under his half-moon spectacles. "Being a Parselmouth isn't illegal and I know for a fact that the Potters aren't related to Slytherin. Besides, I don't want to give up on him; he can still be redeemed. I will talk to him soon to find out the truth."

"Then how is he a Parselmouth?" asked Snape testily.

"Of that, I'm not sure," Dumbledore replied, staring at the ceiling and stroking his beard. He wasn't going to be sharing his theory about the Horcrux in the boy's scar with anyone. How he wished he had more of Harry's blood! It would have given him more time to study the soul piece using the instrument he had seen in the Department of Mysteries which could detect souls, but it was not possible to extract blood without detection anymore. Blood was highly dangerous in the wrong hands and nearly every magical family, old or young, took care to ensure that their blood was safeguarded by performing magical rituals.

Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat as Fawkes trilled softly.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

The next two weeks were quite unbearable for Harry. The entire school, including the teachers, was looking at him with terrified expressions on their faces. Indeed, many actually did their best to avoid looking at him, as though he would attack them in an instant. Snape had been more horrible than ever in Potions class and it took all of Harry's willpower to remain calm instead of outright killing the man. Professors McGonagall and Sprout had become quite cold towards him and acted as though he didn't exist, though Harry could see the sadness and betrayal in McGonagall's eyes during class.

Slytherin House seemed to be divided on the whole issue. On one hand, Harry was a Parselmouth, a talent which was extremely rare, especially in the western part of the world. It was something that Salazar Slytherin was famous for, so they were in awe of Harry's ability, but on the other hand, the last Parselmouth was the Dark Lord himself. And he had been absolutely terrifying.

Some people outright refused to ostracise Harry like that. Professor Flitwick went out of his way in treating Harry normally and would frown heavily when he caught sight of people running away from the boy. The same was the case with Professors Babbling and Vector, who considered Harry one of their favourites. Others like Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Tracy Davis, Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Fred and George Weasley were also in open support of him, but they were too less in number for it to matter. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were the worst. Harry being at the scene of Justin's petrification really did not help any. A few brave older years were openly scowling at him and the whispers behind his back had only gotten worse. No one had dared to say anything to him in fear of them being petrified, but Harry had never experienced something this bad.

Daphne, of course, didn't care about it at all. Harry was her fiancé and best friend, so she had decided to stick to him no matter what. She had taken to accompanying Harry to the kitchens every day for food since everyone was so uncomfortable with him sitting in the Great Hall. But Harry was trying not to let it get to him. He had exams approaching, after which he had to focus on Sirius and Amelia's wedding, so he did his best to concentrate on his studies.

"Why don't you swear a magical oath in front of those morons?" asked Daphne as she bit into her toast the day they were heading back home. "It'll at least stop all the speculation."

"And risk losing my magic? I'm not an idiot to try it, Daph. If I say I'm not Slytherin's heir, it would still make me seem guilty because of my Parseltongue skill. If I say I didn't open the Chamber of Secrets, I might risk losing my magic in the future if I actually do find the Chamber. Magical Oaths are very tricky, from what Grandfather Alfred told me. I will not risk my life because the people here are a bunch of narrow-minded bigoted fools."

"True," muttered Daphne, frowning. She remained silent as they continued eating, lost in thought. There had to be some way to stop this! Ron Weasley had been spouting all sorts of nonsense lately about how Harry was the new Dark Lord and that he would kill everyone at school. It was quite frankly disgusting that none of the teachers was doing anything about it. While a couple of them tried to help, it didn't make a difference. One couldn't really make people talk to you when the entire school was ignoring the said student.

"Come on," said Harry, bringing her back to the present. "I can't wait to get out of here."

With a parting wave to the ever-cheerful house-elves, they exited the kitchens, hand in hand, and soon walked out of the castle. It was time to go back home for the winter holidays.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

"And then, everyone thinks I'm the one who opened the bloody Chamber!" said Harry heatedly. "What's wrong with these people? Can't they see that I am a half-blood myself? My own mother was a Muggle-born, so why would I want to attack them? Wouldn't that make me a hypocrite?"

Sirius looked at him, his grey eyes full of concern; the eyes that had still not fully lost the haunted look Azkaban had given him. He sat down next to Harry and pulled the boy into a tight hug. Harry stiffened at first, but after several seconds, slowly melted into the embrace.

"I'm so sorry that you were forced into this situation, Harry," muttered Sirius, slowly rubbing his back, pressing a tender kiss on the forehead. "But you have no proof to say that you didn't do it either. No one is directly accusing you and there is no way anyone can arrest you, so all they can do is whisper. Amelia tried to get involved, but apparently Dumbledore had gotten Fudge to sign an order to say that he would take care of it and not push it forward to the D.M.L.E. Normally, others wouldn't be able to do something like this, but Dumbledore is also the Chief Warlock, the other most powerful post in the country. People always seem to forget the office he holds, thinking that being Hogwarts headmaster is the one which gives him most power, but it's not true. It is his Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump positions that give him true power. What Dumbledore wants, Dumbledore gets."

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It had been a long two weeks and he had exams to write the next day at the Ministry.

"Do you want me to pull you from Hogwarts?" asked Sirius. "I can hire tutors, if you'd like, or maybe send you abroad."

"It's not that bad, Sirius," said Harry, with a small smile, his green eyes strangely soft with affection as he looked at his godfather. "It's the way they're treating me that's annoying, nothing more. I'm not going to let it affect my education. I'll be taking my O.W.L.s in June and I can't let these morons distract me."

Before the older wizard could respond, they were soon joined by his fiancée who had just Flooed in from the Ministry.

"Hey, you two," Amelia greeted them as she entered the drawing room of Black Manor, looking tired. Without preamble, she continued, "I was right the first time, Harry. There is no mention of the Chamber of Secrets being opened anywhere in the Ministry archives. If there is a story behind it, no one is talking. Even if there were recorded documents, they were probably erased or destroyed. I don't even know if it happened, so we can forget about finding out when."

Sirius frowned. "You said you could hear the voice of the creature?"

"Yes," answered Harry. "I couldn't hear it properly, but it was definitely speaking. I could understand it. The creatures that can speak English are Acromantulas, Sphinxes, Centaurs and Manticores, and none of them cause petrification."

"What you heard might be Parseltongue," observed Amelia. "After all, to you, it's the same as hearing it in English, right? Salazar's pet being a snake is quite fitting."

"Maybe … But what sort of creature can do this? The only thing I can think of is –"

"– a basilisk," finished Sirius. "You're right. But the stare of a basilisk kills, it does not petrify. Besides, the thought of a thirty-foot long snake is horrifying to even think about!"

"There is no way it's a basilisk, Sirius," countered Harry, shaking his head. "A basilisk is too large to be the creature we're looking for and how do you expect it to move around the school without being detected? Something that big cannot hide! That's one thing we can safely remove from our list of suspects."

"And a good thing too," said Amelia darkly. "A basilisk will cause an international red alert because it can be used for mass destruction. A team from the I.C.W. and from the resident magical government will be sent immediately to kill the creature."

"Why is that?" asked Sirius, confused. "After all, there are several Nundus in the wild, not to mention Dragons and Acromantulas. They're all extremely dangerous creatures, so why are basilisks alone marked as such?"

"Because unlike dragons and nundus, basilisks can be fully controlled by a Parselmouth," replied Amelia. "This is actually classified information which I gained access to when I was appointed the Head of the D.M.L.E. Can you imagine the damage someone like Voldemort could do if he gained access to a basilisk? He could wreak havoc on scales we can't even imagine!"

"True," Harry murmured, tilting his head to the side. There was something nagging him at the back of his mind, but he couldn't figure out what. There was something he was missing; the answer felt so close and yet so far away! Unfortunately, the foreign information in his mind seemed to be blocked to him by a barrier. There were small cracks in the barrier, from what he could describe, but most of it was on the other side, not accessible to him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts; he couldn't dwell on it now. He had other important things to do.

"I'm going to bed," he said, getting to his feet. "I have to go to the Ministry tomorrow for the fourth year exams. Good night."

"Sweet dreams," said Sirius as he looked at Harry walk upstairs to his bedroom at Black Manor. He turned to Amelia. "They cannot legally touch him, can they?"

"No," Amelia said, shaking her head. "He's protected by the law. Being a Parselmouth isn't illegal, though I'm quite surprised he is one. Is he related to the Slytherin family?"

Sirius barked out a laugh. "The Potters are actually the descendants of Gryffindor," he clarified with a smile. "Trust me, any descendants of Slytherin would never intermarry with them. Besides, it is a misconception that only Slytherins were Parselmouths. My ancestor, Virgo Black, who lived in the thirteenth century, was a Parselmouth, though there has never been another Parselmouth in the Black family since. Harry and I read a book written by him which was in the library here, at the manor. Harry wanted to know why he spoke to the snakes that attacked him and apparently, Parselmouths have some sort of connection to snakes. He couldn't help himself. He did it subconsciously when the snakes were about to bite him."

"Interesting," muttered Amelia.