Starting the next day, Tver officially began his Christmas break a few days earlier than everyone else.
But he still wanted to stay at school for a few more days.
Especially since, early that morning, three young wizards came knocking at his door.
"Professor, can we talk to you?" Hermione asked cautiously after knocking three times.
Creak—
The office door opened, revealing Tver inside, gathering up parchments.
Seeing the professor smiling, Harry, Ron, and Hermione slipped in like guilty culprits.
Tver flicked his wand and conjured two extra chairs. Once the three of them sat down stiffly, he finally spoke.
"What brings you here so early?"
The three exchanged uneasy glances. After a long moment of hesitation, Hermione gathered her courage and looked at Tver.
"Professor, Harry is a Parseltongue!"
She explained everything that had happened in the Great Hall after Tver had left the night before.
To their surprise, Tver simply nodded calmly, not the least bit shocked. He even leisurely guided the teapot to pour them Pumpkin juice.
"You… you're not surprised?" Harry asked in a small voice.
"Surprised? Of course I am."
He said it, but his expression couldn't have been less convincing.
Even so, Harry felt an unexpected sense of relief spreading through him. Compared to Hermione and Ron's anxious worry, Tver's calmness was far more comforting.
He had been confused all night, but seeing the professor so composed—before they'd even spoken more than a few words—gave Harry a strange surge of courage.
Hermione and Ron, unaware of how Harry felt, thought Tver simply didn't understand the connection between Parseltongue and Salazar Slytherin. Their expressions grew tense.
"Professor," Hermione said a little louder, "Salazar Slytherin was also a Parseltongue. Harry might be his heir or something."
"So you think Harry opened the Chamber of Secrets?" Tver asked in return.
"Uh…" Hermione and Ron froze.
"We're together all the time. Harry couldn't slip away from us to open the Chamber," Ron said.
"If you don't believe Harry is the Heir, then what difference does it make whether he's a Parseltongue?" Tver shrugged.
"And remember what I said? Pureblood families are always interconnected. For all we know, Ron's ancestors and mine could also trace back to the Slytherin family. Would that make both of us his heirs too?"
Those back-to-back questions left Hermione and Ron thoroughly confused.
Harry, meanwhile, only felt more relieved, even wishing Tver would keep talking. He lifted the floating cup in front of him and took a sip. The Pumpkin juice was warm—rarely so—and it filled him with comfort from the inside out.
"But Parseltongue sounds so sinister. Just hearing it once gave me nightmares all night," Ron said, shivering slightly. Only the warm cup in his hands brought him any comfort.
"Remember what I said? Knowing dark magic doesn't make you a dark wizard. And Parseltongue is just a language, Ron." Tver chuckled softly. "It's a linguistic talent. Honestly, if Harry were studying at Durmstrang, he'd be very popular."
"As far as I know, Dumbledore speaks Mermish and Gobbledegook, and he can even understand Parseltongue."
"Truthfully, if Parseltongue weren't tied to innate talent, I'd ask you to teach me the language."
Of course, given how little practical use the language had, his interest in studying it wasn't very strong.
Harry was completely reassured now, even a little proud.
After all, this was something neither the professor nor the headmaster could do.
"Thank you, Professor."
Feeling reassured, Harry led Hermione and Ron out of the office.
"I really like Professor Fawley, but the idea of him being popular at Durmstrang still feels a bit off," Ron said with an awkward scratch of his head.
"But it's not so bad, is it?" Harry grinned.
Hermione smiled brightly as well.
"But—" Harry's expression tightened as he glanced around carefully. "Do you remember that voice no one else could hear?"
Ron instantly remembered the night he and Malfoy had run around in a panic.
"You mean the one we heard before?"
Hermione's eyes sparkled as she looked at Harry.
"I understand now!" she burst out, unable to contain her excitement. "It's a snake!"
"Only Harry could hear a snake's voice. And on Halloween he heard something none of us did. That means the creature in the Chamber is a snake—a snake that can petrify people!"
"Exactly!" Harry felt more energized than he had in days, his mind unusually sharp.
"And since we can't see it—whether it's invisible, too small, or able to move through the walls—it means the snake has been hiding in the castle, coming out only now and then to look for victims!"
"And that also means there's someone in the castle who speaks Parseltongue. That person is the heir we're looking for!"
Ron's eyes went wide with sudden realization.
"It has to be Malfoy. He's from a pureblood family—the purest of the pure! If anyone's got Slytherin's blood in them, it's him!"
Still buzzing with excitement, the three of them chatted as they headed back to the common room to grab their textbooks for Transfiguration.
They turned into another corridor.
This one was especially dim. A loose windowpane let in a blast of freezing wind that howled through the hallway.
"The Polyjuice Potion is nearly done. I think we can use it on Christmas Eve—why are you pulling me?" Hermione snapped, annoyed as she looked at Ron.
Ron didn't answer. His face had gone pale, and he pointed shakily toward the center of the corridor.
The poor lighting forced Hermione to squint. All she could see was a dark mass lying on the floor.
A strange jet-black shape hovered upright in the air, looking weightless and heavy at the same time, black smoke curling around it.
"What are those?"
"It's Justin… and Nearly Headless Nick…" Harry said, his whole body trembling slightly.
Hermione took a long breath and finally made out their features.
Justin Finch-Fletchley lay on the floor, stiff as stone, a look of pure terror frozen on his face, his eyes empty and fixed on the ceiling.
Nearly Headless Nick had the same expression, his mouth hanging open in shock.
"So another attack happened… and even a ghost has been petrified…"
"Do you think Professor Fawley will still believe we're innocent—and comfort us again?" Ron swallowed hard, his voice wavering.