After everything had been arranged, Professor McGonagall took Harry to the Headmaster's Office. It was Harry's first time there. The portraits of former headmasters watched him kindly from the walls, and the shelves were filled with all sorts of strange objects.
The Sorting Hat, which he hadn't seen in a long time, was there too. He summoned his courage and put it on once more. "Is something troubling you, Harry Potter?" The familiar voice sounded again.
"Uh, yes. I wanted to ask you..."
"You want to know whether I put you in the wrong house?" The Sorting Hat seemed to see right through Harry's thoughts. "You are indeed more complicated than other young wizards. Perhaps that is part of what makes you special as the Chosen One. But I still have to say that you would have achieved great things in Slytherin."
Harry's heart sank at those words. "Is it because of my bloodline?"
"No, my boy. My conclusion has nothing to do with blood. I only care about what your soul reflects. You were certainly suited to Slytherin, but you also have Gryffindor's courage. Not every first-year wizard would dare fight a Troll at close quarters,
even the boy who threatened me back then. If he hadn't been suited to Gryffindor too, I wouldn't have agreed. It's like Ollivander not letting a young wizard take a wand that doesn't suit him or won't follow him. I won't allow anyone to enter a house where they don't belong.
People are complicated, but in the end, everyone chooses a path and follows it. As for which path to take and what kind of person to become, only you can decide. You and Voldemort are actually alike in some ways, but there's one thing that makes you completely different."
"What?" Harry had always been a little curious about his archenemy.
"You have people around you who taught you what love is. All right, this old man is tired. Put me back."
Harry respectfully put the Sorting Hat away. Suddenly, a strange sound came from behind him. It was an ancient-looking bird, its feathers already falling with every breath, as if it might die right in front of Harry at any moment.
After what had happened to Justin, Harry had a bit of PTSD about being alone with someone in a room like this. He really didn't want to end up being known as the murderer of Dumbledore's beloved bird. The old bird cried out again, and flames erupted all over its body. As Harry stared in shock, it crumbled to ash.
"Uh...! I'm done for."
Harry figured he might as well not bother packing. Once Dumbledore came back, he'd throw him out immediately. Speak of the devil: Dumbledore entered, his expression grave.
"Professor, your bird set itself on fire. I swear I didn't do it."
"Oh! So it's finally time?" Dumbledore looked rather pleased. "Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes are reborn in fire. Look."
Harry lowered his head and saw a tiny chick emerge from the ashes.
"Today's events really did happen at an unfortunate time. She's usually very beautiful, but today is her day to rise from the ashes. Phoenixes are truly strange and fascinating creatures. They can carry very heavy burdens. Their tears have healing powers, and they're especially loyal."
Bang!
Hagrid came rushing in. "It wasn't Harry, Professor Dumbledore!" He was clearly in such a hurry that he hadn't even had time to put down the chicken he was carrying. Dumbledore tried to explain, but Hagrid was too busy shouting to listen, scattering feathers everywhere.
"Hagrid!" Dumbledore raised his voice too. "No one in this room suspects Harry."
Hagrid left, looking a little embarrassed.
"You really don't think it was me, Professor?" Hope shone on Harry's face. Apart from his friends, this was the first time someone had firmly believed him.
"That's right, Harry. I believe you didn't do it. But I think I should ask once more: is there anything you need to tell me?" Dumbledore's expression grew serious again.
Harry thought of the voice only he could hear, the things people had been saying about him, and the possible connection between himself and Slytherin.
"No, sir."
Dumbledore looked at Harry and remembered a similar scene that had taken place before him many years ago. After a while, he sent Harry back to his dormitory.
After another attack at the school, the students were completely terrified. Fortunately, Bing Huan and Snape had been working overtime these past few days and had successfully mass-produced a prescription-free liquid eye potion. The next morning, everyone was discussing the attacks. Before, they had at least talked behind Harry's back. Now, they openly suspected him to his face.
Watching Harry calmly eat his breakfast, Bing Huan asked teasingly, "Had a night to think it over?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "I can't stop them from talking. As long as I know I didn't do it, and the people I care about believe me, that's enough. But we still need to deal with this monster, or Hogwarts might have to close. I don't want any more students getting attacked, and I don't want to go back to Aunt Petunia's so soon, either."
Draco was astonished by Harry's change. "Who are you? What have you done with Potter?" Harry could only roll his eyes at him too.
"It's good that you're not afraid of rumors, but..." Bing Huan changed tack. "That doesn't mean we shouldn't set the record straight." With that, he stood up and walked to the podium the headmaster usually used.
"Ahem!" Bing Huan tapped the nonexistent microphone. The students, who had been whispering among themselves, turned to look. "Sorry to interrupt your meal—and your slander of Harry. I'm up here to explain the two things you're most concerned about.
"First, the direct culprit behind these attacks is a Basilisk. The danger it poses is that looking directly into its eyes will kill you, while seeing its eyes indirectly will turn you to stone. That's what happened to the victims we've seen so far.
"Mandrakes, which Professor Sprout is currently growing, can be made into a potion that will cure petrification. So although there have been several attacks, the number of casualties at Hogwarts is still zero. To keep any unlucky student from looking directly at the Basilisk,
"Professor Snape and I developed a prescription-free liquid eye potion. Put in a drop every morning, and it'll keep you from looking directly at the Basilisk without interfering with your normal life. As for the person controlling the Basilisk from behind the scenes, I can tell you with complete confidence that we haven't found them yet—but it absolutely wasn't Harry."
"What gives you the right to defend him? It was obviously him!" Ernie jumped up and shouted. "He's the one who hurt Justin."
"All right, all right, stop shouting. You've been the most enthusiastic of all the people spreading rumors." Bing Huan waved a hand and took out a Remembrall, which could project memories. "Today, I'll use the incident you're so certain about to prove Harry's innocence and show how baseless your assumptions are. To make sure you don't accuse me of being biased in Harry's favor, I've specifically asked Professor Snape to show the memory."
Snape walked up without changing expression and started playing the scene from that night. Since Snape was skilled at Occlumency, he showed the students nothing unnecessary, starting precisely from after Serpensortia.
When the snake hit the ground again, Bing Huan gestured for him to pause. "First, let's ignore the sore loser who attacked someone by surprise, as well as the arrogant, idiotic teacher who nearly got a student killed. We can see in the memory that the snake had already switched its target from Harry to Justin before Harry even spoke."
The memory continued until Justin ran away. "So, after the snake chose Justin as its target, nearly two minutes passed before it came close to biting him."
"What does that have to do with you saying Potter didn't do it?" Ernie still firmly believed his theory and was determined to get justice for his friend.
"If Harry really were behind all the attacks, especially as Slytherin's heir, he wouldn't care about whether someone lived or died—especially a Non-pureblood wizard. Right?"
"Right."
"Then answer me this: the snake had already turned its attention to Justin, so why did Harry go out of his way to speak Parseltongue? Wouldn't that be deliberately giving himself away? If this hadn't happened, even if the Basilisk had petrified everyone in one house, would you have suspected Harry? Would you have suspected the Chosen One, recognized throughout the Wizarding World? His motive just doesn't add up.
"Besides, that snake is a black mamba." Bing Huan nodded toward Ron, signaling for him to toss over the book on the table. Ron made a wild throw that nearly hit Bing Huan in the forehead.
Bing Huan projected information about the black mamba. "Among ordinary snakes, the black mamba might not be the most venomous, but it's one of the most aggressive. It attacks as soon as an ordinary person gets close to its territory.
"That night, Lockhart attacked it too, and then it turned its attention to Justin. What makes you think Justin could have survived in front of it for two minutes? Did the snake fall in love with him?" Everyone burst out laughing.
Ernie looked embarrassed and annoyed. "We don't understand Parseltongue, so you can say whatever you want."
"Good! That's exactly what I was waiting for." Bing Huan had Hermione toss him the third book from her seat. "This is a guide to Parseltongue, with most of the commonly used phrases recorded in it. It clearly says that Harry's first sentence was telling the snake to tuck in its ribs.
"That phrase is often used to stop hooded cobras from spreading their necks and attacking. But black mambas don't behave that way, so the snake only looked at Harry strangely at first and didn't stop its attack. The second sentence really did tell it to stop attacking. This time, the snake understood and stopped."
"Then how do you explain it? How could he, as a baby, defeat You-Know-Who?"
Before you continue