Rumor

After teaching his parents how to use the Whispering Word Spirit spell, Sherlock stopped bothering with how they practiced it. He let Camilla move freely around the manor castle, as long as she returned to Sherlock's room by evening.

He himself went back to the family library.

From then on, whenever his younger sister Axinsha tried to sneak into her brother's room, she was always sternly turned away.

The little girl was deeply dissatisfied by this.

Sherlock simply did not want his little spy of a sister discovering any of his secrets and letting them slip.

After learning the Whispering Word Spirit incantation, his parents could not wait to use it on their respective pets. His father's pet was a snowy owl, the same breed as Harry Potter's Hedwig.

Since wizards in the magical world generally used owls to deliver messages and serve as messengers, most wizards kept owls as pets. Of course, there were exceptions, such as Aili's tabby cat.

When she had attended Hogwarts as a child, his mother had also kept a fox. Hogwarts simply did not allow pets other than owls, cats, and toads.

Fumengde tried casting Whispering Word Spirit several times without success. Just as he began to wonder whether his son had been playing a joke on him, he heard his wife shouting excitedly beside him that she had succeeded.

"You succeeded?"

"That's right! I successfully planted a mind seed in it with that spell. I even just heard it tell me, 'You're holding me too tightly. I'm having trouble breathing.'"

Looking at the tabby cat clenched tightly in his wife's arms, its eyes nearly rolling white, Fumengde guessed that the reason her pet had been willing to open its mind was probably so that she would treat it better in the future.

"Then why aren't you letting go? Aren't you afraid of strangling it to death?"

Fumengde was somewhat frustrated. They were both married—so why had she succeeded after only a few casts while he could not? He treated his owl quite well on ordinary days too.

Watching the owl act utterly indifferent toward him, Fumengde could not make sense of it no matter how hard he thought.

"Master, today's Daily Prophet."

"Oh! All right, Shog."

Fumengde was a little depressed. He even suspected that graduates of Ravenclaw House might simply be smarter than those from the other three Houses, considering that his wife had graduated from Ravenclaw.

He picked up the newspaper Shog had delivered, only for the very first article to make his heart sink.

"Where is Axinsha? Shog, bring Axinsha here."

Fumengde's fury rose because the Daily Prophet's lead story had been written by his nominal friend, Rita Skeeter.

The article bluntly claimed that the Mephisto Family's eldest son, Sherlock Mephisto, was actually a hidden Parselmouth. It even subtly expressed concern over the Mephisto Family's background and history.

Its tone practically suggested that the extraordinarily gifted Sherlock might very well become the third generation's Dark Lord.

"That lunatic."

Fumengde angrily threw the newspaper to the floor. Thanks to Rita's article, the magical world outside was probably eagerly discussing whether Sherlock was a Parselmouth once more.

Ever since taking charge of the family, he had done his best to avoid contact with the outside world. Yet this had still dragged his son into the heart of the storm.

"Master, there is also a letter from the Ministry of Magic. It was personally written by Minister Cornelius Fudge."

Fumengde held the envelope in his hand and thought for a moment. Without even opening it, he turned directly to his daughter, Axinsha Mephisto.

"Darling, tell me. Other than us, did you tell anyone else about Sherlock talking to snakes?"

Axinsha looked frightened by her father's anger, but she still nodded.

"Who?"

"Aunt Rita. One time, I saw a beetle flying outside the manor. I wanted to catch it, but it turned into Aunt Rita instead. She told me she was looking for material and inspiration for an article, so I..."

Fumengde sighed. He had nearly forgotten that Rita was an illegal, unregistered Animagus who could transform into a beetle.

"All right, darling. I'm making a trip to the Ministry of Magic. As for the Minister's letter, there's no need to read it."

They said words were terrifying. This time, Fumengde truly experienced the power of rumors.

He had only just arrived at the Ministry of Magic through Floo Powder when, before entering the Minister's office, he heard the sound of people arguing inside.

Clearly, some people at the Ministry believed Parseltongue was nothing frightening, merely an exceptional talent. Yet certain officials always liked to make a mountain out of everything, even subtly bringing up the Dark Lord and Salazar, the Slytherin founder who had shared the same pure-blood ideals.

"Enough, gentlemen! You are discussing matters concerning my child. Shouldn't you wait for me, the person involved?"

As soon as Fumengde entered, he saw that Rita Skeeter was among those present—the woman he currently wanted to strangle with his own hands.

"Heavens, Fumengde, you came quickly. I assume you've seen today's Daily Prophet," Fudge said as he came over to greet him.

Fumengde merely looked coldly at Rita. "Yes, I've seen it. I have to say, the writing was quite good."

Rita turned slightly aside, doing her best to avoid meeting Fumengde's eyes.

"Then you must have seen the letter I wrote you as well?" Fudge asked.

Fumengde raised the letter in his hand. "I could guess what was written inside without even bothering to open it."

"Actually, I mainly wrote about our understanding of the matter. After all, Mephisto is an ancient surname. Everyone knows the legend that one-fifth of Dark Magic was created by Mephisto, so some people in the Ministry believe that Parseltongue can also be regarded as an extraordinary talent. It does not necessarily have anything to do with evil."

Fumengde's anger flared faintly. "Listen, Cornelius. I don't want to say much. I don't care what your Ministry thinks, and I trust that you would not dare take excessive action against Sherlock. But what I hate is the slander against Sherlock from certain people in the magical world. I know my child. He is not a Parselmouth. He merely invented a spell that allows people to communicate with animals!"

Cornelius Fudge waved a hand, trying to calm Fumengde. "Yes, yes, I understand that you also would not wish Sherlock to be a... Wait! What did you just say?"

As everyone in the Minister's office fell silent, Fumengde was quite satisfied with the effect.

"A month ago, Lucius gave my son a snake egg that was about to hatch—a golden python egg. It became Sherlock's first pet. Perhaps because of a child's nature, he desperately wanted to communicate with that little snake, so he invented a spell that can plant a mind seed in animals close to a wizard. As long as the animal is willing to open its mind to the wizard, the two can communicate."

Fumengde said proudly, "Like Animagus transformation, it is a spell that requires long-term practice to master. Sherlock calls it 'Whispering Word Spirit'! The easiest relationship for it to succeed in is between a wizard and their pet. If you are interested, you may visit Mephisto Manor at any time to seek Sherlock's guidance. With the Mephisto Family's upbringing and character, I believe he would be willing to teach you."