As the last chapter told, Harry roared "Be careful!" Ron and Hermione quickly drew their wands, looking left and right, but saw no danger.
Hermione asked, "Harry? What did you see?"
Harry said, "I saw nothing, but I heard something. Did you two not hear it?"
They looked at each other and shook their heads. Harry was shocked. Damnable wretch! This sound is truly strange. Why did it drill into this one's ears alone?
Just as he was thinking, the strange voice, like a wandering soul, grew fainter and drifted away, up the stairs.
Harry, determined to find the source, dashed after it. Ron and Hermione, though confused, followed close behind.
Harry charged up the staircase, the strange whisper continuing in his ear like a vengeful ghost.
"I smell blood..."
"So hungry... must kill..."
The hoarse, strange words chattered on, drilling into Harry's ears, igniting a three-thousand-foot-high fire of nameless rage in his heart.
"What birds are you squawking about! Let this one catch you, and I will surely skin you, pull your tendons, and scatter your ashes!"
Harry's roar, however, came out as a raspy hiss. When the strange voice heard it, it immediately fell silent.
After he shouted, Harry was stunned. He didn't know what language he had just spoken in his haste.
Hermione, who had heard it clearly, asked, "Harry, what did you just say?"
Ron nodded. "It sounded like... like a snake hissing."
Before Harry could answer, a heart-wrenching wail echoed through the castle, so loud it shook the windows from the dungeons to the attics.
The trio ran toward the sound and found the caretaker, Filch, kneeling in the corridor, pounding his chest and wailing.
In his arms, his cat, Mrs. Norris, was hanging, lifelike but completely stiff, as if petrified.
"Harry, Hermione!" Ron panted, pointing to the wall. "Look!"
On the wall, several words had been scrawled in glistening red:
"THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED."
"ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE."
Just then, the sound of footsteps approached. Students, just leaving the feast, flooded the corridor. They saw the words and the hall exploded with noise.
The Gryffindors were grim, the Ravenclaws worried, the Hufflepuffs baffled. But the Slytherins... their eyes lit up, their faces flushed.
Draco Malfoy leaped up. "Let's hear it for the Heir of Slytherin!"
"What did you say?!" Filch staggered up, grabbed Draco by the collar, and roared, "Cheering for the bastard who killed Mrs. Norris!"
But Draco, who had been chugging Muscle-Building and Bone-Strengthening Potions daily, was now built like a third or fourth-year. He wasn't afraid of Filch.
"Sorry, Mr. Filch," Draco shrugged. "The wall says it, 'Enemies of the Heir, beware.'"
"This cat is just the beginning. Those M—those who aren't worthy of being wizards won't escape!"
The Slytherins erupted in cheers and applause.
Harry sneered and strode to the wall. He wiped a finger on the letters, smelled it, and scoffed. "What 'Heir of Slytherin'! This one sees only a spineless, skulking mutt!"
"Trying to scare people with a few bird-words! This one thought it was blood, but it's just paint. If he'd dared to even kill a chicken for its blood, this one would have respected him half a bit!"
Harry's words were sharp, piercing to the heart. Draco felt a blockage in his throat, and his face turned the color of a pig's liver.
Colin, hearing this, felt his fear turn to hot blood. "Harry's right!" he shouted. "He's just a coward who doesn't dare show his face!"
The crowd, emboldened by Harry, found their courage.
"It was just paint?"
"Yeah! Just a coward!"
"What's so scary about a Chamber?"
"But Mrs. Norris is dead!" Filch shrieked. "Who did this?!"
"No, Argus. I do not believe she is dead."
A calm voice cut through the noise. It was Dumbledore, followed by the other professors. Lockhart, seeing the words, went pale.
The Headmaster knelt by the cat. "She has been petrified... but by what, I do not know..."
"Ah, yes, I thought so myself!" Lockhart boomed. "If I'm not mistaken, this is just a little prank, isn't it?"
"Think about it—it's Halloween! Perhaps a young student just wanted to give us a fright!"
Snape sneered from the shadows. Dumbledore rose. "I truly wish it were as you say, Gilderoy."
He glanced at Harry, who was still holding his blade. "It seems we are in need of another talk, Harry."
"A talk? You can use my office!" Lockhart bustled, pulling out his key. "It's the closest, Headmaster."
"Oh, Gilderoy, I have a more important task for you: take Argus and his cat to see Poppy." Dumbledore waved his wand, and the key flew from Lockhart's hand.
"Please, rest assured, Argus," Dumbledore said, "we will cure her."
"Professor Sprout has recently acquired some Mandrakes. When they are mature, we can brew a potion to reverse the petrification."
"Ah, simple! I could brew that with my eyes closed!"
Snape's cold voice cut in. "Pardon me, Mr. Lockhart, but I believe I am the Potions Master at this school."
Lockhart, rebuffed, led Filch away.
Dumbledore, Snape, and Harry went to Lockhart's office.
Snape lit the candles. As Harry was about to speak, Dumbledore quickly pulled out a potion vial.
Harry asked, "Professor, what illness do you have?"
"Let me see... I believe it's a 'headache-that-appears-whenever-I-talk-to-you' illness," Dumbledore said playfully. "This is for headaches."
He downed the potion. "Alright, Harry. Why were you there? And why had you drawn your blade?"
"It did not look like you stumbled upon it. It looked... prepared."
Harry sat down, bold as brass. "It is so. This one went because I knew of the danger."
He then recounted everything from the Deathday party, including the hissing voice.
"This one does not know what language it was, nor where I learned it. It just came out, as if self-taught."
Snape's face was a mask of horror. "Parseltongue?! Why do you know that?"
Readers, this "Parseltongue" is the ability to speak with serpents. It was created by the dark wizard Herpo the Foul and passed to Salazar Slytherin, becoming a bloodline trait.
Though it can be learned, it is not easy. For Harry to know it at his age, it must be inherited.
Harry, hearing Snape's explanation, was shocked. "Damnable wretch! If that's the case, then this one must be the Heir of Slytherin!"
"What blind scoundrel dares to touch my Chamber!"
"No. The Potter family has no relation to the Gaunt family," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "The Gaunts were... rather fond of... keeping it in the family."
He removed his glasses, staring at Harry's scar. "Oh... dear heavens... Harry, it seems we must prepare for the worst."
"Your Parseltongue... very likely comes from Voldemort. He, too, was a Parselmouth."
"Dumbledore, have the lemon drops addled your brain?" Snape slammed his hands on the desk. "Potter has no blood relation to the Dark Lord!"
"But what of their souls?" Dumbledore said gravely. "He was killed by a curse that rebounded onto him from Harry. We do not know what else happened in that instant."
"But it is very possible... that a piece of his soul... through this scar... is lodged within Harry."
"This is why you can see those images. The scar connects you."
Snape was grinding his teeth, a vein throbbing in his forehead.
Harry, however, was silent for a moment, then looked up, excited. "If this is so, can this one not use this scar to find that scoundrel's location?"
"...But he could also find you," Dumbledore sighed, feeling the potion failing.
"Severus, I must trouble you again. To teach Harry Occlumency. It can block Voldemort's intrusion."
Snape, shaken, glanced at Harry. "Fine, Dumbledore. I've already agreed to enough of your requests. What's one more."
"But Mr. Potter had best 'hatch' his Patronus soon, so we can proceed!"
With a swirl of his robes, he was gone.
Harry ignored him and looked at Dumbledore. "Professor, do you remember our previous talk?"
"About... 'showing his hand'?"
"Aye. Dobby spoke of great danger. Now the Chamber is open. Does this not match his words?"
"Professor, you need only check if Dobby has any connection to the Malfoy family, and you will know the truth."
"Hmm. It seems you have discovered a great deal." Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Rest assured, Harry. Leave this to me."
Harry left the office and found Snape waiting for him, staring out a window.
"Potter. To my office. Now."
Harry asked, "Professor, what is it that cannot be said here?"
"Oh, you want to know? It's because I have a Halloween present for you."
Harry thought: This man has acted like a shrew ever since I exposed his 'secret preferences.' Why would he have a gift for me?
He wanted to refuse, but then he remembered Hermione's words about the rare potion ingredients. He needed to search Snape's cabinets.
He cupped his hands. "If the Professor insists, this one dares not refuse."
They went to Snape's office. Snape shut the door. "Now. Let me see your Patronus."
Harry, though confused, did as he was told. The silvery, egg-like orb appeared.
Snape inspected it. "It was this big a week ago. What have you been doing?"
Harry shook his head. "I've hit a bottleneck."
The Patronus was strange. It kept growing, and now seemed ready to "hatch," but it was missing the final push.
Snape sneered. "Then prepare yourself, Mr. Potter. It took me a great deal of effort to get this into the school."
"The approval forms were longer than your final essay!"
He whipped out his wand. A large, iron-bound trunk next to him burst open. A cloud of black mist billowed out.
Harry felt an icy chill. The mist coalesced into a tall, cloaked figure. It was a Dementor.
It rushed at Harry, its empty mouth-hole homing in, and Harry felt his soul being pulled, his mind filled with the wails of his family.
At this critical moment, Harry raised his wand and roared, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The silver orb pulsed, like the Monkey King in the sacred furnace. It struggled, it twisted... and then it exploded with the force of shattering heavens. Silver light filled the room, and from the mist, a ferocious beast leaped forth.
It had two silver eyes like stars, four jade-like paws that trod on clouds. On its white forehead was the "King" (王) character. Its mane stood on end like steel needles. It was the Mountain Lord, a Great Tiger incarnate.
The great, white-browed tiger appeared and let out a roar that sent the Dementor reeling.
Harry, seeing the tiger, was overjoyed. What magnificent style!
He pointed his wand. "Kill!"
The tiger leaped and tore into the Dementor.
As the black mist scattered, the tiger opened its bloody maw, its belly swelled, and it inhaled the Dementor!
After eating it clean, the tiger paced over to Harry, gave a low growl, and lay down, its eyes fixed on Snape.
Harry was shocked. He stroked the tiger's head. Did that Dementor... just get 'eaten' and turned into an assisting ghost?
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