Chapter 165: Young Snake Speaks
The visitors left, and the isolated prison fell quiet again.
The island fortress was silent, the kerosene lamp emitting a dim glow, the stone walls cold and chilling, the rat Scabbers unsure if there were other rats here, not daring to make any sound.
“Click… click…”
Bellatrix’s lips moved, her teeth clacking together, producing a chilling sound.
She was still chewing moss, not swallowing it into her stomach, sucking out the flavor and then spitting it out, with grass juice and dirt stuck to her gums and between her teeth, forming dark green-black tartar, so filthy that even the rat Scabbers felt somewhat uncomfortable.
The rat Scabbers huddled in the corner, its limbs obediently tucked under its body, a glass pendant hanging around its neck containing a colorless, odorless liquid.
Bellatrix had previously been an inner circle Death Eater, while Peter was just a shady spy, lowly and inferior, not much better than a house-elf, and the two were not familiar with each other, having almost no interactions.
This witch seemed to have been driven mad by torture, and Peter didn’t know what the consequences would be if he were discovered; he didn’t dare to take the gamble.
Peter had no intention of rescuing a colleague either; he just wanted to quickly extract the vault key information, use the Ouroboros Mark to summon Professor Levent, escape this hellish place, and find a remote village where no one could find him.
“Damn it, why did I have to run into something like this!” Scabbers muttered inwardly.
In the dim light, the moss in the floor cracks had been completely removed, and there was more chewed filth around the mad witch; she seemed somewhat tired, leaning against the wall and slowly closing her eyes, her shoulders drooping limply.
The rat Scabbers waited a moment, peering along the cracks, noticing her breathing become steady and even, recognizing the signs of deep sleep, suppressing his inner excitement, his short forelimbs touching the pendant around his neck, and slowly emerging from his hiding corner.
The rat crawled slowly across the stone slabs, the floor thick and its paw pads soft, making no sound at all, but Bellatrix suddenly opened her eyes.
“Who!”
The witch’s voice was shrill, the echo reverberating in the room, piercing the ears.
The rat Scabbers had been terrified the moment she opened her eyes, shrinking back into the wall crack at top speed, holding his breath and not daring to make any sound.
Bellatrix’s eerie gaze scanned around, finding no traces, and not caring; having been here too long, the Dementors had turned her brain and soul into swamp mud, sometimes unable to distinguish dream from reality, hallucinations being normal.
She knew this well; previously, when she tortured other wizards with the Cruciatus Curse, they would also have hallucinations.
The witch leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes, murmuring to herself: “I think I smell rat…”
After saying that, she smacked her lips twice, as if recalling the taste of fresh flesh and blood.
The rat Scabbers trembled in fear, yet didn’t dare make any sound.
If caught by this mad witch, he would surely be eaten, bones chewed into fragments.
He couldn’t be caught, couldn’t expose his identity.
He had to patiently wait for the right moment, an opportunity when she couldn’t resist, couldn’t struggle, couldn’t even cry for help, and pour the Veritaserum down her throat.
“…”
The rat Scabbers pictured the horrific state of prisoners tormented by Dementors.
…
Hogwarts, Muggle Studies professor’s office.
Melvin was organizing Azkaban materials.
That night, proposing to Madam Bones to visit Azkaban was mainly to help the rat Scabbers infiltrate; after the actual visit today, he felt there were indeed some points worth discussing, so he collected and organized some materials, planning to submit to Muggle Studies related publications in a while.
Having been a Muggle Studies professor for nearly two years, he hadn’t formally published any academic papers yet.
Teaching and research are both a professor’s duties; Professor McGonagall is a 《Today Transfiguration》 signed author, Professor Flitwick regularly appears in various charm-related magazines, Professor Sprout has even published a herb illustrated guide, only Potions’ Snape being slightly more low-key.
The other subjects like Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Astronomy are also leaders in their fields.
Muggle Studies doesn’t involve magic but is still a popular subject; the most famous scholar in this field now is Charity Burbage, whom Dumbledore originally wanted as professor; a couple years ago she locked away her wand to live in the Muggle community, regularly publishing articles in magazines.
Promoting that Muggles and wizards have no inherent differences, should respect and learn from each other;
Advocating intermarriage between different races, wizards and Muggles, wizards and werewolves, werewolves and vampires, etc.;
Proclaiming that the decline of pure-blood wizards is a good thing.
Due to excessive bias toward Muggles, these articles are highly controversial; reportedly many wizard scholars wrote articles naming and shaming her, some extreme pure-bloods sending Howlers to the publisher, but Burbage wasn’t deterred and plans to compile these articles into a Muggle living guide.
Compared to them, Melvin had no achievements in this area.
Not knowing when that rat would succeed, taking advantage of the holiday leisure to appear in a magazine, just to pass the time.
《Discipline, Punishment, and Containment: The Birth of Azkaban》
The thesis is mainly divided into three parts: first, introducing Azkaban’s ecological conditions; second, explaining the prison’s function; finally, quietly criticizing the Ministry of Magic a bit.
Melvin planned to introduce Muggle legal thought, explaining Muggle society’s operational logic.
The content isn’t profound, only superficially touching on it, mainly to let more wizards truly understand Muggles and spark discussion.
Flipping through thick books, upon finding suitable materials, using Duplicate into Pair to rub copies of the relevant pages, piling them beside the desk, marking them…
The desk started neat, gradually becoming messy with piled paper.
The young snake watched nearby, soon getting bored and starting to crawl around on the desk.
Melvin hadn’t finished his literature review when he saw his collected materials messed up, so he set down his quill and silently stared at the white snake.
Yurm stopped in place, looking up at him, its round eyes extremely innocent.
Melvin poked its head, removed the ring, and placed it on its little horn: “Behave, little one; stay inside sleeping or play nearby, just don’t disturb my work.”
“Hiss…”
The young snake didn’t know if it understood, sweeping its tail and slowly moving away.
Perhaps finding the ring on its little horn uncomfortable, it started using its tail tip to fiddle with the emerald-inlaid ring, finally removing it and tossing it on the desk, then poking the gem’s small hole with its head horn.
Touching the space folded by the Undetectable Extension Charm, green light bloomed, and the entire snake was enveloped by a gentle suction, disappearing into the emerald.
The emerald was quiet for two seconds, then began to tremble, jumping around on the desk with clatters, like a dog trapped in a plastic bag, panicking and struggling violently.
From the buzzing frequency, the young snake inside was probably terrified.
“Sigh…”
Melvin sighed, tapped the emerald, reconnecting the outer space and snake nest; the young snake darted out in fright, coiling around Melvin’s wrist, head buried in his palm, tail trembling.
“…”
Melvin felt somewhat helpless; his young snake seemed not very smart.
The night he received the emerald snake nest from Dumbledore and put the basilisk back to sleep, he had tried letting Yurm live in the snake nest, but the effect was never good.
Those in the know would say it’s an exotic horned serpent; those unaware might think it’s some cauliflower snake, really embarrassing magical creatures.
“Yurm, you…”
Before he finished speaking, footsteps came from the office doorway.
“Knock knock knock…”
“Come in.”
The door opened, revealing the figure at the doorway: black wizard robe, slightly loose, wearing a gold-and-red tie, messy hair draped over the shoulders, a somewhat youthful face, standing prettily at the door.
Hermione had a smile on her face at first, but upon seeing the young snake on his hand, her face paled, her speech stammering: “Professor, Hagrid asked me to invite you to his hut as a guest.”
Melvin looked up: “Is there something the matter?”
“Hagrid said he wants to thank the professor for guiding us to uncover the truth and helping him restore his reputation.”
Hermione had once faced a basilisk directly, so she wasn’t afraid of such a young snake, but girls always feel a bit fuzzy seeing snakes, her tone softening.
“Mm… let’s go.”
Melvin slipped the ring back on his ring finger, pocketing the snake from his hand into his trench coat pocket while standing up.
This trench coat’s fabric wasn’t soft, mixed material for the cut, somewhat rough, nowhere near the snake’s den specially made by a magical creatures expert, but Yurm just liked such a nest, contentedly curling up in the pocket.
Sticking out its head, hissing and flicking its tongue.
Hermione pursed her lips, standing in place; as the professor passed by, she happened to meet eyes with the young snake.
“Its name is Yurm, child of my friend.” Melvin said lightly, touching the young snake’s head. “This is Hermione.”
“Hiss…”
Yurm didn’t know if it understood, still flicking its tongue, eyes unreadable, no expression, just a blank snake face.
“Hello, Yurm.”
Hermione noticed its black eyes, recalling Harry’s words.
Before they found the basilisk, the professor had already contacted it, having the basilisk incubate an egg, which was probably this snake.
Judging by the horn on its forehead tip, it’s a horned serpent, representative animal of one of Ilvermorny’s houses; looks like the professor brought it from Ilvermorny, no wonder he said it’s a friend’s child.
“Don’t space out, let’s go.”
Melvin closed the office door and turned to walk out.
Hermione hurried to catch up: “Professor, is Yurm a horned serpent?”
“Yes.”
“Does it have any special magic power?”
“Not yet.”
“??”
…
Half an hour later, Forbidden Forest Hut.
A pot of Irish stew full of meat and no vegetables, placed over a bonfire built from a few stones.
Harry and Ron sat next to Fang, eating with oil all over their hands and faces, grinning with greasy shine.
Not that Hagrid’s cooking was better than the house-elves’; this stew was tastier than the Hogwarts Kitchen soup, but the atmosphere of gathering around the bonfire and pot added flavor, the pleasure more in the mood.
“Let me tell you, that Malcolm’s eyes nearly popped out! Haha…”
Hagrid gnawed a beef knee bone, recounting his recent tavern experiences, trying to make them feel the patrons’ shock at the truth, their newfound respect for him, regret for past misunderstandings.
Melvin sat opposite, holding a clay bowl, slowly sipping the soup with a layer of clear oil on top sealing in the heat, taking long to cool, occasionally asking questions between sips to stoke Hagrid’s enthusiasm.
Most of the time he listened, a faint smile on his face.
The sky outside gradually darkened.
Lighting torches and the fireplace, adding firewood to make the bonfire burn brighter, the orange firelight giving the wooden house a cozy feel, crackling wood and the unique scent of burning pine.
Hermione ate more delicately, preferring the soft stewed mushrooms and potatoes; accidentally fishing out a fatty rib from the pot, she frowned prettily.
Glancing aside, Fang was huffing at a bone, front paws pinning it, teeth bared.
The little witch’s eyes lit up, quietly tossing the rib over.
No one noticed her little action except the young snake poking out of the pocket. Yurm’s eyes also lit up, crawling out along the clothes, over the sofa, toward the hound buried in gnawing the bone.
Melvin noticed Yurm’s movement but ignored it.
Hermione also noticed the approaching young snake, watching it climb Fang’s hind leg, up the fur toward the neck, her heart rising to her throat.
Fang was a hound, actually participating in hunts, training in the centaur tribe for two months last summer vacation, bolder now, chasing birds and rabbits, kicking goblins and vixens; such a small snake would be bitten in half in one go.
And Fang, engrossed in the rib, sensed something wrong: gnawing a bone, why was his body itchy and cool?
Next to the bonfire, how could it feel like snow melting on him?
Releasing the rib, turning his head for a glance—
A thin small snake face right at him, mimicking him, flicking its tongue by its mouth.
“!!”
The hound shuddered all over, fur bristling, howling out: “Woof!”
Yurm lifted its head, round eyes staring at him, tilting its head, barking similarly: “Woof!”
But without any hound majesty, more like a few-month-old kitten’s mew, light and pleasant, the ending even somewhat soft and glutinous.
Fang was instantly stunned in place, the dog dumbfounded.
Big and small staring at each other, their interaction drawing others’ gazes. Harry and Ron looked at the young snake, then up at Hermione, finding her also bewildered.
Melvin had fallen silent; this snake really seemed to have issues.
Parseltongue not learned, can’t speak human words, besides hissing randomly, the first sound learned was barking.
Hagrid’s eyes lit up, nudging Fang’s butt with his foot: “Try barking a couple more times!”
Fang seemed aggrieved: “Woof woof…”
Yurm followed suit: “Woof woof~”
Crisp, melodious and sweet.
Now even the others fell silent; clearly all barks, but from the young snake’s mouth, they sounded nicer.
Even Fang shook his head; his dog brain couldn’t accept such a strange thing.
