"What? You mean the tactic where I drop my wand on the ground?" Harry retorted, incredulous, but Lockhart wasn't listening at all.
"One-two—two—one—begin!" he shouted.
Malfoy quickly raised his wand and bellowed, "Serpensortia!" The tip of his wand exploded, and to Harry's horror, a long black snake shot out, landing heavily on the floor between them. The snake raised its head, preparing to strike. Screams erupted from the crowd as they hastily backed away, leaving a clear space.
"Well, Draco clearly hasn't mastered that spell," Loki remarked casually, standing protectively in front of Augustus. "That snake's all bark and no bite. If I were dueling him, I'd have at least five ways to make that pathetic creature vanish."
"Don't move, Potter," Snape drawled lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry frozen in place, locked in a tense standoff with the enraged snake. "I'll handle it..."
"Let me!" Lockhart exclaimed, raising his wand with theatrical flair. He brandished it threateningly toward the snake, but with a loud bang, instead of vanishing, the snake leapt a meter into the air and landed back on the floor, angrier than ever. It hissed and slithered aggressively toward Justin Finch-Fletchley, its head rearing and fangs bared.
Lillian stifled a laugh, covering her mouth. "Ah, Lockhart. Truly a brave wizard. Every attempt of his brings about surprises. If there's an award for Hogwarts' Best Creator of Unintended Consequences, he'd win it without question."
Without knowing why, Harry felt his body act on its own. He stepped forward as though his legs were on wheels, and suddenly shouted at the snake, "Leave him alone!"
A miracle happened—completely unbelievable. The snake fell limp on the floor, its aggressive posture gone. It lay still like a thick, black garden hose, its eyes fixed on Harry. Harry's fear ebbed away. He somehow knew the snake would no longer harm anyone. How he knew, he couldn't say.
He looked up at Justin with a relieved smile, expecting gratitude or confusion. Instead, Justin's face showed only anger and terror.
"What kind of trick are you playing?" Justin shouted. Without waiting for a response, he turned and bolted from the hall.
"Parseltongue?" Augustus's expression turned slightly serious. He hadn't expected Harry to be a Parselmouth. As far as Augustus knew, apart from Salazar Slytherin and his descendants, only one other person in modern times shared this ability: Voldemort.
Harry displaying this trait would undoubtedly have far-reaching consequences. To many, Parseltongue was synonymous with evil—a legacy of Voldemort's reign of terror. While the ability itself was neutral, Voldemort's infamy had deeply stigmatized it. In truth, communicating with animals wasn't inherently negative. In other worlds, many Druids could speak with animals. They were guardians of nature and lovers of peace. But in the magical world, this talent had become unfairly maligned.
Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake dissolved into a wisp of black smoke. He cast an unreadable look at Harry—part sly, part calculating. Harry found it unsettling. Around him, he could hear ominous whispers spreading through the crowd.
Back in Augustus's group, Malfoy returned with a self-satisfied grin. "Haha, so Potter's a Parselmouth! Caught him red-handed. Let's see how he keeps up his 'Savior' act now. I'd love to see the faces of those who tout him as the beacon of righteousness when they find out."
"You underestimate the zealots," Loki interjected with a faint sneer. "If they've chosen Harry as their hero, they'll rationalize anything to protect his image. Parseltongue? A minor inconvenience. They'll spin it into something noble. That's politics—wielding a banner of justice to silence dissent while propping up their chosen figurehead."
"Hmph," Augustus replied calmly, his gaze thoughtful. "You forget what kind of world this is. In the magical realm, true power lies within. Dumbledore and Voldemort both understood this. That's why they transcended the Ministry's authority and held sway over life and death. In our world, politics is a mere shadow. True strength comes from within. Mastering magic determines how far you can go."
He glanced at Loki, who seemed momentarily conflicted. Augustus understood. Without his intervention, Loki's ambition and sharp mind, combined with his family's support, might have led him to become a dominant force in magical politics. Yet in his pursuit of such influence, he might lose sight of magical truths and become another Cornelius Fudge—ensnared by mediocrity.
But since Loki had chosen to walk the path of magical discovery alongside him, Augustus felt it was his duty to remind him of the true essence of strength. In the end, however, the decision would still rest with Loki. Augustus trusted his intelligence to guide him toward what he truly desired.
Walking the path of magic was fraught with challenges. The journey's wonders and thorns could make anyone question their purpose. Few could remain steadfast to the end. The road was endless, but with the company of like-minded individuals, perhaps it wouldn't feel so lonely.
"To seek the Way in the morning and perish at night—such a life would be worthwhile," Augustus mused to himself. On this boundless path, the presence of companions made the journey less solitary.
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