A few odds and ends

On the way to Dumbledore's office, Brian ran into Malfoy and his two cronies again. The moment they saw Harry, sneers appeared on their faces, and they looked ready to say something. But when they noticed Brian's face, they slunk away.

Harry, who had been looking thoroughly dejected, immediately snapped out of his gloom at the sight of Malfoy and his companions and glared at them angrily, as though he had taken some miracle cure. It was the first time Brian had seen that expression on Harry's face.

"Harry, have you had trouble with Malfoy?"

Brian immediately realized there was something going on between those two. It reminded him of that tearful boy, Neville Longbottom. He hoped no one had given him any more trouble since then.

"Have they done anything to you?"

"Malfoy? No, nothing. He's a coward-a bully who picks on the weak and runs away from a proper duel!"

Harry spoke without holding back.

"They only dare bully Neville when we're not around-oh, right, we heard you helped Neville. Thank you!"

He went on to explain, "Neville told Hermione first, and then Hermione told us. He's been practicing fierce expressions in front of the mirror these past few days. He's really working at it, and we're glad he's learning to stand up for himself."

"That's the best news I've heard all day."

Brian meant it from the bottom of his heart.

"What were you thinking about just now? Judging by your expression, anyone would have thought you were about to be expelled from Hogwarts."

"You mean-I won't be expelled?" Harry's eyes began to shine, and even his drooping hair seemed to perk up.

He had already worked out the truth from Hermione's and Ron's reactions: wizards who could talk to snakes were probably very rare, and it seemed to be a bad thing-bad enough to warrant being taken straight to the headmaster.

"If knowing a particularly difficult foreign language were grounds for expulsion, Dumbledore would have to resign first." Brian couldn't help laughing. "He speaks the merpeople's language. It's all screeching-very hard on the ears."

"So the fact that I can talk to snakes... well, it's not a big deal?" Harry visibly relaxed, and his steps grew lighter. "Thank you, Mr. Brian."

"Don't mention it. Cheer up, Harry. You'll be meeting a magical creature in a little while, and I guarantee you'll be amazed."

Remembering how he had felt when he first met Fawkes, Brian couldn't resist whetting Harry's appetite.

"I think Dumbledore would be very happy to demonstrate the merpeople's language for you-but I'd suggest getting ready to cover your ears."

The last time Dumbledore had gotten drunk, he had demonstrated how merpeople greeted one another. Two decorative glass goblets in the Headmaster's Office had paid for that demonstration by spending ten seconds in pieces. Thank goodness for magic, and for the Mending Charm.

According to Dumbledore, the merpeople's language was no longer shrill underwater, and a colony of merpeople lived in the Black Lake. But they looked nothing like the merpeople Brian was familiar with. Merpeople in cold waters generally looked like this:

They had metallic, iron-gray skin covered in scales, untidy hair the color of waterweed, yellow eyes, and mostly broken or missing teeth. Their preferred ornaments were necklaces strung with underwater pebbles and shells.

If they forced their way into the Chamber of Secrets, Hogwarts Castle would pass from the students into the hands of those merpeople. By then, the ornaments around their necks might be replaced with jewels, medals, or something of the sort. After all, with the school flooded and everyone busy fleeing for their lives, who would spare a thought for those symbols of honor so carefully maintained in the trophy room?

Whenever Brian thought of the Chamber of Secrets, he couldn't help feeling a deep sense of regret. If only I'd discovered Harry was a Parseltongue speaker a little earlier-even an hour would have done.

If it had happened a little earlier, Harry would have joined their expedition into the Chamber of Secrets. Its doors would have opened, the basilisk lurking inside would have met its rightful end, and Hagrid's name could have been cleared. Dumbledore wouldn't have had to take an old Basilisk Skin Shedding to the Ministry of Magic for negotiations with little hope of success.

But now, the doors to the Chamber of Secrets were sealed tight by his Ancient Sealing Magic. By the time he came to his senses, the seal had already been inscribed on the doors. It was a side effect of the Book teaching him magic: the urge to cast had driven his body to complete the spell. And the seal was stronger than anyone could have imagined. Neither he, the Book, nor Dumbledore could undo it.

Yes, the Chamber of Secrets was now sealed shut-assuming it had only that one entrance. Even if Slytherin, Voldemort, and Harry Potter went to its doors together and ordered the two snakes guarding them to open up in Parseltongue, those snakes would probably be helpless.

Sometimes, that was how things went. A fleeting missed opportunity could leave a regret that was hard to put to rest. Even knowing that, Brian found it difficult to let go so quickly. But that was perfectly normal. After eating a nasty-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean, it still took a while for the bitterness to fade from one's mouth.

His only purpose in coming was to tell Dumbledore that Harry spoke Parseltongue. For some reason, an inexplicable instinct told him this was very important.

"Mead." For the second time that day, Brian gave the gargoyle the password.

It was Harry's first time seeing the gargoyle. Watching the staircase slowly reveal itself, he said excitedly to Brian, "A password! You need a password to get into Gryffindor Tower, too. A magical portrait guards the entrance. We call her the Fat Lady."

This was the first Brian had heard about the house common rooms, and he asked with interest:

"Is it the same for the other houses?"

"Slytherin is like us. They need a password to get in, too, but all they have to face is a stone wall."

Harry explained as he climbed the stone steps.

"For Hufflepuff, you have to beat a drum in a particular rhythm. If you get it wrong, you get drenched in vinegar. Neville always says he'd go mad if he'd been sorted into Hufflepuff. As for Ravenclaw... I haven't found out yet. Maybe they use a password, too?"

"That sounds a little unfair. So far, it seems only the Hufflepuff students get punished by their own common room," Brian said reasonably. "Still, there are advantages-if they wanted, they could save their families the cost of buying vinegar for seven whole years."

Suddenly, he found himself a little curious about which house the Sorting Hat would put him in. The hat was right there in Dumbledore's office, and apparently it had quite a fine singing voice, too.

Once they entered the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore warmly welcomed Brian back and Harry on his first visit. When Brian told him that Harry spoke Parseltongue, he still showed no sign of anything unusual.

"Being able to talk to snakes-that sounds wonderful. I've always wanted to learn that language, but I lack the talent." Dumbledore finished with a smile, only to receive a gentle peck from Fawkes.

Brian felt certain that Dumbledore's thoughts weren't nearly as simple as his outward manner suggested.

But that wasn't his concern. At seven tomorrow morning, he would officially begin work at the Hogwarts Library, and he still had things to finish today.