Another Day Worrying About My Good Son

After arranging everything, Professor McGonagall took Harry to the Headmaster's Office. It was Harry's first time there. The portraits of past headmasters on the walls watched him kindly, and the shelves were filled with all sorts of strange and wonderful items.

The Sorting Hat, which he hadn't seen in a long time, was also there. Mustering his courage, he put it on again. "Is something troubling you, Harry Potter?" the familiar voice echoed once more.

"Uh, yes, I wanted to ask you..."

"You want to know if I put you in the wrong house?" The Sorting Hat seemed to read Harry's mind. "You are indeed more complex than other young wizards, perhaps that's what makes you special as the Boy Who Lived. But I still say you would have done well in Slytherin."

Hearing this, Harry's heart sank. "Is it because of my bloodline?"

"No, child. My decision has nothing to do with bloodline; I only care about what your soul reflects. You are suited for Slytherin, but you also possess the bravery of Gryffindor. Not every young wizard dares to wrestle with a troll at close quarters in their first year.

Even the boy who threatened me back then, I wouldn't have agreed if he weren't also suited for Gryffindor. Just as Ollivander wouldn't let a young wizard take a wand that isn't suited for them or unwilling to follow him. I won't allow anyone to enter a house they shouldn't.

People are complex, but ultimately, they will choose a path to follow. As for which path to take and what kind of person to become, only you can decide. You and Voldemort are actually similar in some ways, but you are completely different in one aspect."

"What?" Harry was always curious about his nemesis.

"You have someone by your side who taught you what love is. Alright, the old man is tired, let me go back."

Harry respectfully put the Sorting Hat away when a strange sound came from behind him. It was an ancient bird, its feathers already falling with each breath, as if it would lose its life in the next second before Harry's eyes.

After the Justin incident, Harry had some PTSD from such private confrontations. He really didn't want to be branded as the killer of Dumbledore's bird again. The old bird called out once more, burst into flames, and turned to ashes before Harry's stunned gaze.

"Urgh!... It's over."

Harry felt he didn't need to pack his things. As soon as Dumbledore returned, he would be thrown out immediately. Speaking of the devil, Dumbledore pushed the door open with a grave expression.

"Professor, your bird, it set itself on fire. It really wasn't me."

"Oh! Has the day finally come?" Dumbledore's expression was somewhat joyful. "Fawkes is a Phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes are reborn from fire. Look."

Harry looked down and saw a small chick emerging from the ashes.

"It seems today's events have indeed happened at an inopportune time. She's quite beautiful most of the time, but today is her day of rebirth. Phoenixes are truly peculiar and fascinating creatures. They can carry very heavy burdens. Their tears have healing properties, and they are also exceptionally loyal."

BANG!

Hagrid burst in frantically. "It wasn't Harry, Professor Dumbledore." It was clear he was in a hurry; he didn't even have time to put down the chicken he was holding to explain to Harry. Dumbledore intended to explain to him, but Hagrid just kept shouting, scattering chicken feathers everywhere.

"Hagrid!" Dumbledore also raised his voice. "No one in this room suspects Harry."

Hagrid walked out, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Do you really think it wasn't me, Professor?" Harry's face was filled with hope. This was the first time someone other than his close friends had firmly believed him.

"Yes, Harry, I believe it wasn't you. However, I think it's necessary to ask one more time: is there anything you haven't told me?" Dumbledore's expression grew serious again.

Harry remembered the voice only he could hear, the whispers about him, and the possible connection he might have with Slytherin.

"No, sir."

Dumbledore looked at Harry, recalling a scene that had unfolded before him years ago. After a moment, he told Harry to return to his dormitory.

The school was in a state of complete panic due to another attack. Fortunately, Bing Huan and Snape had been working overtime, successfully mass-producing a potion for liquid eyeglasses without a prescription. The next morning, everyone was discussing the attack. If they had been hesitant before, now they were openly suspecting Harry to his face.

Bing Huan watched Harry still eating breakfast and asked playfully, "Thinking things over after a night's sleep?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I can't stop their mouths. As long as I know I didn't do it, and as long as the people I care about believe me, that's enough. But this monster still needs to be dealt with, otherwise Hogwarts might close. Not just for the students who might be attacked, but I don't want to go back to Aunt Petunia's so soon."

Draco, standing nearby, was surprised by Harry's change. "Who are you? What have you done with Potter?" Harry could only give him another eye-roll.

"It's good that you have the mindset to not fear rumors, but..." Bing Huan's tone shifted. "We still need to refute them." With that, Bing Huan stood up and walked to the usual podium used by the Headmaster.

"Ahem!" Bing Huan tapped an imaginary microphone. The students who were whispering looked over. "Sorry to interrupt your meal and... your accusations against Harry. I've come up here to explain the two matters you're most concerned about.

First, well, the direct culprit of these recent attacks is a Basilisk. Uh, the danger of a Basilisk lies in that direct contact with its gaze results in death, while indirect contact with its gaze causes petrification. That's what happened to the victims before.

Petrification can be reversed by a potion made from Mandrakes, which Professor Sprout is currently cultivating. So, although there have been several attacks, Hogwarts' casualty rate is effectively zero. To prevent some of you unlucky ones from directly looking at the Basilisk, Snape and I have developed a prescription-free liquid eyeglasses potion. A drop each morning will effectively prevent you from directly looking at the Basilisk without affecting your daily life. As for the person commanding the Basilisk from behind the scenes, I can tell you responsibly: we haven't found them yet, but it is definitely not Harry."

"What gives you the right to defend him? It's clearly him!" Ernie stood up and shouted. "He harmed Justin."

"Alright, alright, stop shouting. You're the most passionate among the rumor-mongers," Bing Huan waved his hand and took out a Pensieve, which could project memories. "Today, I will prove Harry's innocence and your baseless speculations from the incident you're so certain about. To prevent you from saying I'm biased towards Harry, I've specifically invited Professor Snape to play the memory."

Snape walked up expressionlessly and began to play the footage from that night. As a Legilimens, Snape ensured that the students saw no extraneous details, precisely focusing on the situation after the Ur-Owl's appearance.

When the snake landed again, Bing Huan signaled to stop. "First, let's ignore that sore loser who resorted to a sneak attack, and that conceited idiot teacher who nearly got a student killed. As we've seen in the footage, long before Harry spoke, the snake had already switched its target from Harry to Justin."

The footage continued to play until Justin ran away. "So, we see that after the snake identified Justin as its target, there was nearly a two-minute gap before it almost opened its mouth to bite Justin."

"What does that have to do with you saying Potter didn't do it?" Ernie remained convinced of his deduction, determined to get justice for his friend.

"If Harry were truly the mastermind behind all these attacks, especially as a descendant of Slytherin, he would certainly not care about the life or death of someone, especially if they were a Non-pureblood wizard. Correct?"

"Correct."

"Then I ask you, the snake had already turned its attention to Justin. Why would Harry go out of his way to speak Parseltongue? Wouldn't that be deliberately exposing himself? If this incident hadn't happened, even if the Basilisk had petrified an entire house, would you suspect Harry? Would you suspect the wizarding world's acknowledged Boy Who Lived? The motive alone is completely invalid.

Furthermore, this snake is a Black Mamba." Bing Huan nudged Ron, gesturing for him to throw the book on the table. Ron's throw missed Bing Huan's head by a hair's breadth.

Bing Huan projected information about the Black Mamba. "Among ordinary snakes, the Black Mamba might not have the strongest venom, but it is second to none in aggressiveness. It will immediately attack any unfamiliar creature that approaches its territory.

That night, Lockhart attacked it, and then it turned its attention to Justin. How do you think Justin could have survived for two minutes in front of it? Did that snake take a liking to him?" Upon hearing this, everyone burst into laughter.

Ernie was somewhat embarrassed and angry. "We don't understand Parseltongue, so you can say whatever you want."

"Fine! That's what I was waiting for." Bing Huan had Hermione throw the third book from his position. "This is a compendium of Parseltongue, containing most common phrases. It clearly states that Harry's first sentence was telling the snake to retract its ribs.

This phrase is often used to stop a cobra from attacking by making it coil up. However, the Black Mamba doesn't have this habit, so it just looked at Harry strangely at first and didn't stop attacking. The second sentence was indeed telling it to stop attacking, and only then did the snake understand and stop."

"Then how do you explain it? How did an infant manage to kill the Dark Lord?"