At eight o'clock that evening, Elias, Draco, and Daphne hurried back through the chilly corridors toward the Great Hall. Anticipation buzzed in the air, and they weren't the only ones moving with purpose. Students from all Houses streamed through the castle, chattering excitedly about the newly announced Dueling Club.
"I heard they're going to let students actually duel," said a second-year Hufflepuff as she scurried past them.
"Watch half of Gryffindor end up in the Hospital Wing," Draco muttered with a smirk.
When they reached the Great Hall, Elias noticed immediately that it had been transformed. The four long House tables had vanished, replaced by a single golden stage erected along one wall. Enchanted torches lined the walls and glowed a little brighter than usual, casting dancing lights across the chamber.
Students clustered around the stage in murmuring groups. Elias, flanked by Draco and Daphne, found a spot near the front as the chatter died down. At that moment, a figure bounded onto the stage with exaggerated flair—none other than Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in a set of bright violet dueling robes with silver trim that shimmered with every movement.
"Gather round, gather round!" he called enthusiastically, waving both arms. "Can everyone see me? Excellent!"
Elias blinked. "Is he wearing glitter?" he whispered to Daphne, who barely suppressed a grin.
Behind Lockhart, another figure stepped up onto the stage, his movements silent and deliberate. It was Professor Snape, his dark robes billowing like smoke, expression unreadable.
Lockhart beamed at the crowd. "Let me introduce my assistant for this evening—Professor Snape!"
There were a few murmurs from the students, particularly the Gryffindors. Snape's expression didn't change, though Elias caught the faintest tightening of his jaw.
Lockhart continued undeterred. "Professor Snape has kindly agreed to help me with a short demonstration. Now, I don't want you to worry—we'll be using only disarming spells. We won't be hurting each other," he added with a self-satisfied chuckle.
"Oh, he's going to regret that," Draco said with a smirk.
Elias merely watched, quietly intrigued. Lockhart and Snape bowed to one another—Snape's bow more of a sharp nod. They raised their wands.
"One... two... three—"
"Expelliarmus!" Snape barked.
A flash of scarlet light erupted from his wand before Lockhart had even finished turning. With a loud bang and a puff of smoke, Lockhart flew backwards off the stage and landed in a heap against the far wall.
The room fell into stunned silence. Then a few students—mostly Slytherins—began to snigger. Elias didn't laugh, though his mouth did twitch in amusement.
Lockhart climbed to his feet, brushing soot from his robes and flashing a wide grin. "Just showing you what not to do, of course! It was a calculated move."
Draco snorted. "Calculated to fall on his backside."
Lockhart returned to center stage and clapped his hands. "Now, pair up! We'll be practicing the Disarming Charm first—nothing too dangerous!"
The students began to shuffle and choose partners. Lockhart looked across the sea of students, and his eyes landed on Elias, who stood out not only because of his height and composed demeanor, but because of his quiet confidence.
"Mr. Blackthorn! You look like someone who knows his way around a wand—how about you pair with Mr. Potter?"
A few students turned to look, interest rising. But before Elias could move, Snape interjected sharply.
"No," Snape said, with unmistakable finality. "Potter will pair with Mr. Malfoy."
There was a moment of tension. Elias felt Draco tense slightly beside him.
"Mr. Blackthorn will observe for now."
Lockhart blinked, looking slightly put out. "Oh—well, all right! Mr. Malfoy it is."
Draco strode forward at once, wand already in hand, a sharp gleam in his eyes. Harry followed, a bit more cautiously. The two took their places on opposite ends of the stage, facing each other.
Lockhart raised his arms again. "Wands at the ready! When I count to three—cast your charms to disarm only. We don't want any accidents!"
Elias folded his arms and watched from the side. Daphne stepped up beside him, her arms crossed and brow slightly furrowed.
"I would've liked to duel Harry myself," she murmured.
Elias gave a small nod. "This will be interesting either way."
"One—two—three!"
"Expelliarmus!" both boys shouted.
Twin jets of red light collided in midair with a loud crack. Draco's spell hit first, sending Harry skidding backward across the stage. He stayed on his feet, though just barely, wand still in hand.
Lockhart clapped as if it had been a flawless ballet. "Excellent! Very well done, both of you—excellent!"
Snape, however, stepped forward, eyes narrowing.
"Clearly, the students require more than disarming spells," he said coldly. "Perhaps you should instruct them on proper defense."
Lockhart, ever eager, turned back to the crowd. "Right you are! Pair up, everyone! Let's practice!"
Soon the stage and surrounding area were filled with students raising their wands and flinging basic jinxes and counters at each other. Chaos erupted—spells flew everywhere, some students shouting, others ducking.
Elias didn't draw his wand at first. He simply observed.
He watched as Justin Finch-Fletchley accidentally sent a Tickling Charm at Seamus Finnigan, who retaliated with a poorly aimed Rictusempra that hit a suit of armor instead. Daphne, meanwhile, had paired with a Ravenclaw girl and was dodging her attempts with almost bored grace.
Then, out of nowhere, a shout rang across the hall:
"Serpensortia!"
A thick, black snake erupted from Draco's wand and landed heavily on the floor, hissing as it coiled and raised its head, baring its fangs.
Students shrieked and backed away.
"Don't move, Potter!" Lockhart shouted. "I'll get rid of it!"
But Lockhart's spell went awry and instead of vanishing, the snake reared higher, turning toward Justin Finch.
Elias had already begun to step forward, wand raised, but he stopped when he heard something strange.
A hissing sound—clear, crisp, cutting through the noise.
"Leave him alone."
The snake lowered its head.
Students froze.
It wasn't the spell. It was Harry's voice. But it hadn't been English. It had been... something else.
The room seemed to hold its breath.
"What do you think you're playing at, Potter?" Justin shouted, pale and furious.
"I—I was trying to stop it—"
"You were talking to it!" Justin accused. "Like you were telling it to attack me!"
"No—no, I wasn't—"
Elias narrowed his eyes. The language—Parseltongue.
Around him, students began to whisper. A few stepped away from Harry, as though suddenly unsure. Even Draco looked caught between smugness and something else—hesitation, perhaps.
Professor Snape stepped in quickly, murmuring a spell that vanished the snake in a puff of smoke. The tension lingered in the air.
Lockhart, ever clueless, laughed nervously. "Well! That was exciting, wasn't it?"
But the students didn't laugh. The unease remained.
Elias glanced at Harry, who looked disoriented, confused. Daphne leaned toward him.
"Did Potter just—"
"Yes," Elias said quietly. "He spoke Parseltongue."
Draco muttered something under his breath. Elias didn't catch it.
The rest of the evening wound down, but the atmosphere had shifted. Students dispersed in hushed groups. Whispers followed Harry's retreating figure like a shadow.
Elias lingered for a moment, looking back at the now-empty stage.
Elias didn't sleep much that night.
Despite returning to the Slytherin common room long after the Dueling Club had ended, his mind lingered on the scene — the flash of Draco's conjured serpent, the shock of hearing Parseltongue spoken aloud, and the unsettling ripple it sent through the crowd like a cold wind.
He hadn't dueled. Snape's choice to keep him aside had been deliberate — and strategic,
By morning, the castle had changed.
The chatter began the moment students rose for breakfast. It swept through the common rooms and echoed in the corridors, faster than Peeves during a prank.
"Did you hear what Potter did?"
"He talked to a snake!"
"It obeyed him!"
"He's the Heir of Slytherin, isn't he?"
"Has to be. Only Parselmouths can control snakes!"
In the Slytherin common room, the mood was a strange mix of smugness and suspicion. Some second and third years were practically gleeful about the Gryffindor's disgrace — especially the ones who disliked Harry.
But others, particularly the older students, seemed more serious.
"He's a Parselmouth," Blaise Zabini said at breakfast, calmly sipping his tea. "That's not something you just become. It's inherited. That's powerful old blood, no matter how 'Gryffindor' he is."
Draco, sitting across from Elias, grinned.
"I've always said Potter was a little too close to the dark side. Bet he's been hiding it for years. Wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore's known all along."
"Don't be ridiculous," Daphne said with a snort. "If Dumbledore knew he was dangerous, he wouldn't let him near the school."
Elias remained silent as he cut into his toast. He had no desire to add to the speculation — and yet, the logic was impossible to ignore. Parseltongue wasn't some casual trick. It was an old, rare gift, and often linked with those of Salazar Slytherin's line.
And Harry, of all people — the boy who had stood against Voldemort and lived — had spoken it.
Draco leaned in, his voice a whisper. "You don't think he really is the Heir, do you?"
"No," Elias said calmly.
Draco frowned. "But he spoke Parseltongue."
"And so did Voldemort," Elias replied smoothly. "If the ability alone made someone the Heir, we'd have a dozen heirs by now."
Daphne gave Elias a thoughtful look. "Still… it's strange. He's Muggle-raised. Where would that ability come from?"
"Some things are inherited through blood," Elias said. "Whether or not you know you carry them."
They left it at that, but the whispers didn't.
By the time they reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor, the halls were buzzing like a disturbed hive.
"Harry Potter's dangerous!"
"Don't look him in the eyes—what if he can curse you just by staring?"
"Wasn't he there both times someone got attacked?"
Even in class, the mood remained tense. Professor Flitwick struggled to keep students focused on Cheering Charms. A Ravenclaw girl two seats ahead of Elias refused to sit near Harry.
In Potions, the divide was sharper.
Snape, of course, acted as though nothing had happened. But the seating arrangements were louder than words. No one from Slytherin offered Harry a place at their table. Even Ron looked like he was ready to snap at the slightest provocation.
And Hermione, ever the stabilizing presence, simply buried herself in her notes — though Elias noticed her eyes flicking to the corners of the room every now and then, watchful.
The day passed slowly, each class dragging with thick tension. Elias could feel it crawling across the walls — a subtle shift in the castle itself. Where there had once been quiet suspicion, now there was fear.
And Potter? He walked through it all with his head held high, but Elias saw the strain behind his eyes. The boy looked hunted.
After dinner, Elias returned to the Slytherin common room but didn't linger. As students whispered and gossiped near the fireplace, he slipped through a lesser-used hallway and made his way to the seventh floor. The castle shifted as it always did, and the familiar door appeared.
The Room of Requirement welcomed him in silence.
Books stacked neatly. Candles lit themselves. The stone walls shimmered with quiet warmth, and in the center, a large space remained open — perfect for dueling and spellwork.
He pulled out his wand and began.
Shield Charms. Blasting Curses. Binding Hexes.
Each movement was clean, precise. He pushed his magic harder tonight, channeling it with growing control. His mind focused with clarity, a contrast to the chaos of the school outside.
Eventually, the door creaked again.
Draco entered, followed by Daphne, both carrying their wands.
"You started without us," Draco said.
"You're late," Elias replied, not stopping his spell.
Daphne smirked. "He made me detour to the astronomy tower. Thought he saw Potter moping around."
"Maybe he was looking for snakes," Draco added dryly.
Elias turned. "Leave Potter alone. He's not the one you should be worried about."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "So you do think there's something worse out there?"
Elias only gave him a faint smile.