Snake?
Hoare wasn't sure if he was just overly sensitive to snakes lately because of the basilisk, but he couldn't shake the feeling.
But it couldn't be, right? The basilisk was an enormous creature, and if it appeared, Dumbledore would surely know.
"So, did you go looking last night?" Hoare couldn't help but rub his head in frustration.
Harry and Ron nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "We were just doing what we could."
"Have you considered—" Hoare's face darkened, "that any creature, whether human, snake, or something else, that can enter and exit Headmaster Dumbledore's office is not something you two first-year students can handle!"
Hoare's anger was rising uncontrollably. What if—what if it really was the basilisk?
Harry Potter had the protection of a bloodline curse, so he wouldn't be in danger.
But Ron, that blockhead! He could barely use his wand properly!
Hoare looked at the two in front of him, who seemed completely unaware of the danger, and his anger surged.
He suddenly stood up, startling Harry and Ron.
"What's wrong, Henry?" Harry asked, puzzled, as he ruffled his messy curls.
"What are you doing, scaring us like that?" Ron was clearly displeased.
"If you two do this again, I'll report you to Headmaster Snape immediately. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to deduct points from you."
"Are you kidding me! Harry, I told you, he's just an evil Slytherin!" Ron shouted angrily.
"Yes! I'm an evil Slytherin! But at least I know my limits! You can't do anything, so why not just stay safe!"
Hoare and Ron started raising their voices, drawing the curious eyes of many nearby students.
"Ron, don't be mad. Henry's just looking out for us," Harry quickly tried to calm Ron down and then explained to Hoare, "We were under the Invisibility Cloak, it was perfectly safe."
Harry, having grown up under someone else's roof, was very sensitive to people's emotions. He could tell that Henry was angry because he was overly worried.
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But—Harry glanced curiously at Henry and Ron. Why did it feel like Henry's anger was more directed at him?
Was he blaming him for bringing Ron along?
Hoare's head throbbed as he tried to suppress his anger.
Ron liked to follow Harry around all day, so he needed to find a protective item, like a golden armor, otherwise, who knew when he might become the sixth child of the Weasley family.
He remembered the main issue and took a deep breath. "Harry, let's talk outside, it won't take long."
Harry nodded, and amidst Ron's questioning, the two of them headed to the corridor not far from the Great Hall's entrance.
"Where are you going?"
"Harry, be careful, it's just a little snake!"
In the corridor, Harry curiously asked, "Henry, what's up?"
Hoare pulled out something he had prepared in advance. He vaguely remembered that Harry's Parseltongue was a passive skill, different from a natural Parselmouth.
He took out a moving picture, where a snake was slithering and hissing.
"Harry, look at this picture. If you were to greet it, what would you say?" Hoare guided him with his words.
Harry looked at the picture Hoare showed him, puzzled, and said, "Hiss~ hiss~ hiss~," then looked at Hoare in confusion.
Hoare realized that Harry hadn't actually noticed what he had just said.
He mimicked Harry's "Hiss~ hiss~ hiss~."
"No, no," Harry frowned, correcting him, "It's 'hiss~ hiss~ hiss~.'" He was a bit confused as to why Henry seemed a bit dull today.
"Hiss~ hiss~ hiss~," Hoare repeated the syllables.
"That's it!" Harry clapped. "Henry, it's just 'hello.' Why are you speaking so strangely today?"
Even after hearing Hoare speak Parseltongue, Harry still couldn't tell that he wasn't speaking English. Perhaps it was because—
Hoare's gaze involuntarily drifted to the scar on Harry's forehead.
The difference between an external translator and a natural one was significant.
After learning Parseltongue, Hoare handed Harry a collection of materials he had prepared. "Harry, I've gathered some information that will be very helpful for your upcoming exams."
Harry took it.
Why did he feel that when Henry said "you," even though it was a single word, it seemed like Henry was actually referring to both of them?
After mastering Parseltongue, Hoare headed straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor.
Unbeknownst to him, Ron was pulling Harry along, following them from a distance. Ron just felt that this Henry William was annoyingly meddlesome.
Clearly, Henry was also breaking school rules, yet he had the nerve to warn him and Harry! And even threatened to tell the professors!
Typical sly and cunning Slytherin!
He had to catch Henry William in the act and report him to the professors first, deducting 150 points from him.
"Hmph!"
-----------------
"Oh~ you're back again~" Moaning Myrtle floated in the air, chattering happily.
Hoare greeted her and headed straight for the central sink.
He hissed at the snake-engraved faucet, "Hiss~ hiss~ hiss~."
As soon as he finished, the snake engraving seemed to come to life, slithering around the massive circular sink.
"Ahhhh, it's you!!!"
The hissing seemed to awaken Moaning Myrtle's nightmare, and she screamed, fleeing back to her toilet, the lid trembling.
"Sorry," Hoare apologized to the stall. He hadn't meant to remind Moaning Myrtle of her painful past.
Turning back, he saw that the sink had opened up into a large mouth, with a slope leading down.
It looked like—like an entrance for some large reptilian creature.
Hoare understood. It seemed that this place, centuries ago, wasn't a bathroom but the entrance to the basilisk's lair.
Hoare slid down the slope.
The winding slope was actually quite fun, like riding a slide.
He didn't know how long it took, but eventually, Hoare slid out, landing on a very soft cushion of feathers. He struggled to lift himself from the sea of feathers.
"Ahhh, move out of the way!!!"
"Henry!!! Move!!!"
Before Hoare could get up, he heard two screams from the slide above.
Instinctively, he leaped to the side.
"Thud."
"Thud."
Two sounds.
Hoare watched with a dark expression as Harry and Ron pulled themselves out of the sea of feathers.
The two of them curiously looked around. Hoare didn't even want to ask how they got there; it was obvious they had followed him.
After much effort, the three of them finally left the sea of feathers. Who knew what kind of strange hobby Salazar Slytherin had to put so many feathers there?
Hoare imagined a tall, thin figure, usually cold and sinister, secretly loving to slide down slides.
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