Back to School

"How do you say 'hello' in Parseltongue?"

"Hisss~"

"And goodbye?"

"Hiss~ hiss."

"What's the difference?"

"Listen carefully, learn properly, and try saying it yourself."

"Hiss~ hisss."

"Nal? Why are you insulting me?"

"Wasn't what I said 'hello'?"

"All right, I think we should wait until next time to learn Parseltongue. What do you think?"

"Couldn't agree more."

On a cold winter night, Nelson and Tom walked from the moonlit outskirts toward the city shrouded in gloom. It seemed no different from when they had come, yet beneath their feet, in the pipes, a black snake was slowly following them.

Contrary to what Nelson had always believed, Nagini was a viper rather than a Giant Python. She liked to strangle her prey before eating it not because she lacked fangs; on the contrary, her venom was extraordinarily potent. She chose constriction over pouncing only because she deliberately kept herself distant from a snake's instincts—deep in her soul, she still considered herself human. Tragically, however, the magic stolen from her body by the Blood Malediction had accumulated to its limit. Her body had completely turned into that of a snake, and there was no reversing it.

"It's all right. Nal is very good at Transfiguration. He'll help you return to normal." On the platform in the underground cavern, Tom stroked Nagini's huge head where she lay on the ground and spoke gently. Rarely, he felt a sense of kinship with this oddity among snakes. "When the time comes, you'll need to compensate me with an owl."

Nelson saw Nagini's enormous eyes close. Snakes had no tear glands, yet he clearly saw a tear squeeze out through the gap in her closed transparent eyelids, roll down her cheek, and fall to the ground. In the silent cavern, the sound of the droplet echoed.

She was too lonely. As a human, she surely disdained using her fangs to gnaw on the rotten corpses of prey like her kind did. She must have grown accustomed to living apart from others. And as a person, she could see and hear but could not speak. Countless voices filled her heart, yet she could barely express them. A person unable to communicate with the outside world was trapped inside the body of a snake wandering alone. It was too cruel. At a time like this, a human who knew Parseltongue might be the only light in her dark life.

"I'll find a way. Even if I can't, Dumbledore certainly can." Nelson could not help reaching out as well, gently stroking Nagini's head. Her skull was hard and sharply contoured, but her scales were cold and smooth. "Wizards have Animagus transformations. Turning a snake back into a human shouldn't be too difficult."

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, Nagini opened her eyes. Her entire body even trembled slightly.

"You know Dumbledore? Then you must know how accomplished he is in Transfiguration." Nelson said optimistically, "It's not a big problem."

As Tom communicated with Nagini, he told Nelson her story. It seemed that Collared Owlet had already been forgotten.

"Hiss..." Nelson drew in a sharp breath. "You were cursed with a Blood Malediction, and someone close to you was an Obscurial?"

"But why don't you write?"

He felt he had said something inappropriate, because the whole cave fell silent the moment the words left his mouth.

"Why are you two only getting back now?!" Bella stood at the front door with her arms crossed, wrapped in thick cotton clothes and glaring furiously at them. "Look what time it is! Do you know how chaotic the streets have been lately? Your uncle nearly went to the police!"

"Sorry, Aunt Bella." Tom apologized sincerely. They could have made it home before midnight, but silently opening the abandoned mailbox where they had hidden their purchases had taken too much effort. "We'll definitely let you know in advance next time."

"Next time?" Bella's already arched brows nearly flew into the sky. "You're planning to stay out all night again? If you aren't home before midnight, Vampires will ambush you in the alleys. Don't you know that?!"

"Actually, Vampires—" Nelson saw Bella's glare shift to him and obediently shut his mouth.

"Come in." She waved an arm impatiently. "Everything you bought arrived before you did. I'm not saying you can't go out and have fun, but you have to pay attention to your safety. Your mother only has one son, and it's so cold out now..."

"Tom!" Catching Tom making faces at Nelson when she turned around, Bella flew into a rage again. "You too!"

Tom lowered his head and followed Bella inside. To him, even this scolding felt warm.

"You two go warm yourselves by the fireplace first." Bella turned and went into the kitchen. "I'll bring you some milk. Nal! Go tell your uncle that you're back!"

Tom hurried off to help, while Nelson set down the bags and headed upstairs.

"Nal, you're back."

When he pushed open the door, Jonas's room was thick with smoke, choking Nelson into coughing. Through the haze filling the room, Nelson saw Jonas sitting in the chair before his desk, wearing an old plaid wool coat as he bent over his writing. Hearing the door open, he stubbed out the cigarette between his fingers in the ashtray, turned around, and squinted at the visitor.

"Sorry, Uncle."

"It's all right. When I was young, I loved playing even more than you did. Back then, I went exploring the abandoned mines in the Ruhr with the neighbor's children, and we stayed in there for two days." Jonas removed the gold-rimmed glasses resting on his nose and rubbed his temples with both hands, his face full of exhaustion. "Sit down. Wait until I finish this article."

Nelson did not sit. Instead, he walked behind Jonas and began firmly massaging his shoulders.

"Ah... that feels good. Nal, when was the last time you massaged my shoulders?" He leaned back in his chair, relaxing his shoulder muscles.

"Two years ago. After that, you rarely came home." Nelson's technique was practiced. As he kneaded, he brushed the fallen cigarette ash from his uncle's shoulders. "I'll massage them for you more often from now on."

"Hahaha." Jonas laughed loudly, only to choke on his own laughter and begin coughing. Nelson hurriedly placed a hand on his back and patted it gently. "I wasn't blaming you. You've grown up and gone to school. There'll be fewer and fewer chances like this in the future!"

"There won't." Once his uncle stopped coughing, Nelson resumed kneading his shoulders. "You should quit smoking."

"Your aunt always says that too, but how can it be so easy to quit just because you want to?"

"You should at least smoke less." Nelson glanced at the beginning of the manuscript. "Is there going to be a war?"

"Yes..." Jonas picked up the cigarette he had pressed into the ashtray but had not fully extinguished. With a melancholy look in his eyes, he took a hard drag and held his breath as he spoke. "Over the past two years, I've traveled to many places in Europe. The situation is getting more and more tense."

"The magical world too." Nelson deeply agreed.

"Actually, I've submitted no fewer than ten warnings about the coming war to the newspaper." Jonas opened his mouth and exhaled the smoke, forming a thin column. "But even after the editor approves them, they're always rejected at the end. They say articles like that are detrimental to harmony between nations."

"Perhaps only Chamberlain thinks there's harmony!" He sighed with a bitter smile. "I went to Poland just last month, you know? It was full of Germans—sneaky Germans everywhere you looked! Now everyone thinks I'm talking nonsense, or that I'm peddling the same old ideas from my hometown."

"Uncle..." Nelson knew war was coming, but he did not know how to say it. After a long silence, he held Jonas's shoulders, seeming to put all his weight into it, and said softly, "You may not believe me, but we've studied Divination. There really is going to be a war. You must be careful."

"Don't worry." Jonas placed his hand over Nelson's on his shoulder.

Feeling the roughness against the back of his hand, Nelson put away his wild thoughts and simply held his elder's shoulder tighter in silence.

"To be honest, you've always spared me a lot of worry. You stopped acting like a child a long time ago." Jonas turned his head and said reassuringly, "I won't bother saying nonsense like telling you to protect yourself. You're a good child. You understand these things better than I do."

"I wrote to friends your father and I once shared. If they're people like you, they'll definitely write to you." Jonas patted the hand on his shoulder firmly. "If one day, I—"

"I mean, if." Seeing Nelson's reproachful expression, he smiled and shook his head before continuing. "If one day I'm no longer here, go find them. They'll definitely help you!"

Bella's shout from downstairs calling Nelson to drink milk broke the gloomy atmosphere in the room. "Go on." Jonas smiled as he saw him off.

"In times like these, no one can remain untouched." Jonas turned and called out to his nephew, who was pushing open the door to leave. He said seriously, "I still hope you can become an editor, or help me fulfill my dream of becoming a poet."

"Didn't sleep well last night?" Tom handed him a bottle of cucumber juice with the cap already twisted open.

Early the next morning, aboard the Hogwarts Express, Nelson had been listless the entire time.

"No, I was just thinking about some things." Nelson leaned against the window, looking at the barren pastures and fields outside. Their luggage had all been stored away by the train. Only a camera hung around his neck; Bella thought he seemed to need it more. (Jonas: Magic is too convenient—so convenient that it'll make my photography skills deteriorate. You take it and use it!) He seemed to remember something, and his expression brightened. "Oh! The photos we took at the orphanage are in the camera's photo pouch. Let me take a look."

As though eager to change the subject, he pulled out the photographs, only to fall silent when he saw one.

"What's wrong?" Tom leaned over to look at the photo.

It was a photograph that did not seem as though it should have been taken at a place like an orphanage. Every child in the image wore a radiant smile. Their table was covered with a lavish Christmas feast. Beside several children sat unfamiliar adults who resembled them. Mrs. Cole sat at the center of the photograph, tightly clasping the hands of an unfamiliar man. The happiness that seemed ready to spill from the paper stood completely at odds with reality.

"I don't remember this photo looking like this." Tom moved closer, studying it carefully.