Chapter 140: Roger Snake
After breakfast, Anthony was preparing to head to the hospital wing to check on Roger's condition. As he left, he noticed Dumbledore watching Harry Potter with concern from the staff table. Harry, looking a bit tired with dark circles under his eyes, was enthusiastically squirting ketchup onto his grilled sausage while chatting with Ron. A snow-white owl flew in, pecked Harry's ear playfully, and then flew off again.
"Fred and George said they're going to get an owl too," Anthony overheard Ron telling Harry as he passed by. "But I have no idea where they're planning to get it from and they told me not to tell Mum."
Percy Weasley, sitting farther down the table, chimed in, "Why don't you tell Mum?"
"Don't tell Mum you were knocking on Professor McGonagall's door at six in the morning!" Ron shot back. Percy's face turned beet red, and he quickly turned away from his younger brother, fuming.
Harry shifted Ron's attention back. "Hagrid invited me to his cabin this afternoon. Are you coming?"
"Of course, we are, Harry," Hermione said, frowning as she pulled an owl feather out of her oatmeal. "But I can only stay for half an hour. I need to go to the library to revise—seriously, I can't believe you've both completely forgotten the study plan I made for you."
"Hermione, the exams are still." Ron gazed up at the enchanted ceiling, which was showing a brilliant blue sky, "over a month away! Do we really need to start memorizing who invented which cauldron already?"
Hermione, clearly anxious, said, "It's only five weeks! And you shouldn't count based on the end of exams!"
Anthony smiled at their exchange but quickly hurried off. He suddenly realized that he hadn't yet prepared the final exam questions for his third and fourth-year students, which made him feel a bit uneasy. Final exams for elective courses were always scheduled earlier than those for core subjects.
…
The windows of the hospital wing were half-open, and a gentle breeze caused the white curtains and bedside drapes to flutter softly.
Anthony entered the quiet room and quickly spotted Roger's bed. The bedside table was covered with flowers, snacks, and a large collection of Quidditch star Chocolate Frog cards, all showing players zooming around on broomsticks. It seemed that Roger, with his impressive Quidditch skills and the recent dramatic events, had gained a fair number of admirers. Madam Pomfrey had removed anything that wasn't conducive to recovery or took up too much space, but the remaining gifts still made the bed look cheerful.
As Anthony approached, he noticed someone sitting beside Roger's bed.
Tracy Davis, Roger's sister, was quietly sorting through bouquets from the Black Lake, meticulously picking out tiny bugs and crushing them one by one on the bedside table. Neatly arranged were the remains of ladybugs, spiders, and small mosquitoes, all lined up near Roger's closed eyes.
"Good morning, Miss Davis," Anthony greeted softly. "How's he doing?"
Tracy set her tweezers aside and brushed a strand of hair off Roger's forehead.
"Good morning, Professor Anthony," she replied. "He's doing alright. Madam Pomfrey said Roger woke up early this morning and was lucid. But for the sake of his treatment, she gave him some Draught of Living Death, so he should be waking up soon."
Anthony nodded, his eyes resting on the faint scars around Roger's neck. "That's good. I'm sorry, Miss Davis, that my reaction wasn't quick enough."
But even in hindsight, Anthony wasn't sure what he could have done. His strongest abilities were ineffective against an alchemical construct that operated without life force.
Tracy shook her head. "It wasn't your fault, Professor. I was there too, and thank Merlin his life wasn't in danger." She gripped the edge of the bed tightly, her knuckles white.
"Professor Flitwick's spell was cast very quickly," Anthony said as he leaned down for a closer look at Roger. "And Potter helped a great deal as well."
Just then, Roger's breathing changed. His chest rose and fell sharply before he opened his eyes.
"Roger!" Tracy whispered.
"Tracy," Roger rasped, his voice hoarse. He blinked, his gaze shifting to Anthony. "Oh, Professor Anthony." Struggling to sit up, he braced himself on his arms.
Anthony quickly slipped a pillow behind Roger's back. "Drink some water, Davis," he said, watching as Roger took the glass from Tracy and sipped slowly. "How do you feel?"
"Pretty awful," Roger chuckled, gingerly touching the bumps on his neck and chin. "Do I look like I've got a cool tattoo?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Tracy replied, rolling her eyes.
Roger, his voice still hoarse, asked, "When did you get here, Tracy?" Anthony now noticed that Tracy had dark circles under her eyes, just like Harry and Ron.
"Six o'clock," she replied.
"Quite the coincidence," Anthony remarked.
"What happened?" Roger asked.
Anthony explained the morning's events—how Fred and George had woken up everyone at six with their dramatic declaration of the 777 snakes, all while pretending to be Parselmouths. When he mentioned Harry being a real Parselmouth, Roger simply muttered, "Guess I'm lucky." But as Anthony talked about Harry's classmates being suspicious of him, Roger shook his head in disbelief. When Anthony mentioned the provocations by other students, especially those from Ravenclaw, Roger rubbed his face in frustration.
Anthony laughed. "I'm sure I don't need to explain which version of the story I prefer to believe."
"It's simple," Roger rasped. "Potter saved me. End of story." He glanced at Anthony with a confused look, as if trying to confirm that he hadn't woken up in a world where common sense had shifted dramatically.
Anthony felt the need to clarify things to Roger's classmates. "You'd understand the suspicion if you had heard him. When Potter spoke Parseltongue, it was easy to believe he was up to something sinister."
"Did you hear it, Tracy?" Roger asked.
Tracy nodded, then looked up at Anthony and asked, "Professor, is Potter really a Parselmouth?"
Anthony, slightly surprised, replied, "I believe so, Miss Davis. Why, don't you?"
"Draco doesn't think he is," Tracy said. "Draco thinks Potter was just saying something random, pretending to be a Parselmouth to look impressive. He believes Harry's faking it, trying to make people think he's more powerful than he really is."
"That's an interesting angle," a voice chimed in from the ward.
"Yeah, why didn't we think of that?" another voice added.
The Weasley twins' heads suddenly appeared as they entered the room, their bodies following soon after. Fred held an invisibility cloak—one far less impressive than Harry's, but still large enough. George grinned. "You didn't shut the door, Professor Anthony... or you, Davis."
"That was me," Anthony said, standing to close the door behind them.
Tracy looked at the twins in surprise, clearly puzzled by their unexpected arrival.
Anthony, equally curious, asked, "What are you two doing here?"
"Checking in on our classmate, of course," Fred replied, leaning over the bed to look at Roger. Roger smiled and gave Fred a playful push. Anthony was surprised by how close they seemed. He remembered catching the Weasley twins, Tracy, and Roger sneaking out one night, but they hadn't acted this familiar back then.
Sensing Anthony's curiosity, Fred, George, and Roger explained the change in their friendship. It started with a Muggle Studies project. Roger's best friend and roommate had joined the Weasley twins on a trip to a magical pet rescue shelter, where they discovered a shared love for the same Quidditch team. The twins immediately hit it off with the Ravenclaw, whose wild and imaginative ideas matched their own. Upon returning to Hogwarts, their cross-house friendship grew, and naturally, Roger became familiar with the twins.
"If you just saw him in class, you'd never know how fun he is," Fred said with a grin. "But when he started testing whether eating five Fizzing Whizbees would make you fly higher than just eating one, we knew he could be a friend of ours."
…
"We brought you a gift," Fred announced.
"I wanted to put it right by your bed," George added.
"But Madam Pomfrey would definitely have tossed it out," Fred finished with a dramatic sigh.
"So..." George continued, struggling to pull a massive gift box from under the invisibility cloak, "we stayed up all night working on this. Even if you don't appreciate it, at least don't tell Pomfrey."
Anthony raised a brow. "Should I be avoiding this?"
Fred winked. "You'll love it, Professor."
As Roger asked Tracy to open the gift, a few students' voices echoed from outside the window. "Where did those two go?" one muttered. "I don't know, but they'll have to come back to the common room tonight. We'll deal with them then," another yawned, clearly tired.
"Sounds like you're in a bit of trouble," Roger said, leaning back against his pillows.
"Nothing major," Fred said as Tracy pulled off the last layer of colorful wrapping paper.
Suddenly, a large snake sprang out of the gift box, causing Tracy to jump back, clutching the box lid like a shield.
"Not as big as the trouble we'd be in if Madam Pomfrey found us," George said quickly, raising his hands to calm Tracy down. "Don't shout—it's just a toy."
He stepped forward, raised his wand, and said, "Wrap around hissing me."
The snake slithered awkwardly over and coiled itself around George's leg, albeit in a rather clumsy fashion. George had to help adjust it with his hands, preventing it from tying itself into a knot.
"It's a bit slow... we're still perfecting it," Fred explained, raising his wand. "Let go and hiss him."
The snake immediately slid down George's leg like a rope, landing with a soft thud on the floor.
"We've only got a few commands so far," George said proudly. "There's 'Hiss me,' 'Let go of him,' and 'Let go of me.' We're not sure if it can differentiate between men and women yet, so for now, both 'Let go of him' and 'Let go of her' do the same thing. We're thinking of adding 'Hair pulling hiss' and 'Escape hiss' so we can deliver on our 777 snake promise."
Anthony, thoroughly amused, asked, "Did you make this in one night?"
"Of course not," Fred replied, picking up the snake. "We had similar projects on hand, but this one's just taken a bit longer to finalize."
"The principle's simple, really," George added. "It just responds to preset commands, like enchanted statues do. But we got our inspiration from some brilliant past ideas..." He shot Roger a grin. "By the way, don't blame your roommate for not visiting you earlier. He's contributed quite a bit to this."
"If you're okay with it, we'd like to name it 'Roger the Snake,'" Fred said. "And we've got a great slogan: Hiss, hiss, hiss, hiss!"
"We'll get Harry to help with the promotion," George added with a sly smile.
Roger laughed, coughing slightly. "I'll let you wrap it around my neck if you cut me in on some of the profits."
Tracy, still eyeing the toy snake with a wary expression, frowned. But soon enough, the twins demonstrated their ultimate command.
"I am hiss Roger Davis hissssssssssss," Fred began, exaggerating the "hiss."
As he spoke, the snake turned an odd shade of black and purple, before erupting in a harmless burst of flames, twisting itself in a bizarre spiral. Finally, it shot up toward the ceiling, leaving behind a shimmering line of golden text: Get well soon hiss.
Tracy finally burst out laughing. "I was going to say Draco might want one, but now I don't think he will."
"Malfoy?" George grinned. "He'd be jealous as anything. He wants everyone to think he's the next great dark wizard."
Tracy nodded, still chuckling. "Draco's been going on about how Potter might be a descendant of Slytherin... but we don't think that's the case, either."
"You?" Fred asked, momentarily confused, then it dawned on him that Tracy was from Slytherin. He awkwardly touched his nose, clearly holding back a few Slytherin jokes that had come to mind. Anthony could tell Fred was making an effort not to offend her.
Before anyone could say more, Madam Pomfrey, drawn by the noise of the snake's explosion, stormed into the ward. She quickly noticed the crowd of healthy students, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Out! All of you!" she ordered, shooing everyone except Tracy, who was allowed to stay and watch over Roger.
"We'll get your neck sorted out, Mr. Davis," she said sternly but with a touch of kindness. "But for now, lie down. You're not ready to be sitting up yet."
…
After being unceremoniously kicked out of the hospital wing, Anthony left the Weasley twins chatting with a group of curious students at the end of the corridor. He returned to his office, where his two roommates—a cat and a mouse—were occupying the cat climbing frame. The cat was aggressively gnawing on a battered mouse toy, while the real mouse, indifferent to the whole scene, was curled up asleep in a ball of cotton, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around him.
Anthony picked up his lesson plan from the desk and waved it at them. "I'm heading to the library—Cat, try not to hurt anyone while I'm gone."
The cat gave him a sideways glance, flattening its ears in irritation. It scratched at the shelf with enough force to leave deep marks on the climbing frame, which had been reinforced by a master of transfiguration. The loud, grating sound woke the mouse, who twitched his whiskers and looked around, confused.
"Good cat," Anthony said with a grin, reaching over to pat its head. As the cat swiped at his hand, he quickly pulled away, leaving only a faint scratch that would soon disappear. "I'll bring you some wine later."
"See you later," he added, closing the door behind him. As he left, the mouse was already busying itself, moving its little cotton bed off the wobbly cat climbing frame.
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