Simultaneously traversing: the pinnacle of all realms

Chapter 84 The Savior - Harry

On the night the Duel Club disbanded, Snape walked up the spiral staircase behind the dripping stone and entered the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, looking at something through his half-moon spectacles. Fawkes, dozing on his perch, peeked up with one eyelid when he heard footsteps, then buried his head back under his wing.

"Severus," Dumbledore looked up, "what brings you here so late?"

Snape did not sit down.

His black robe cast a long shadow in the candlelight, and his face was even more somber than usual.

He described the events of the Dueling Club in the simplest terms: Malfoy's snake, Lockhart's foolish spell, and Harry's words to the black snake. A series of hoarse sounds, squeezed from the depths of his throat, were heard by everyone present.

"Parsleyan?"

Dumbledore's finger stopped.

"Snake-like voice".

Snape repeated, his tone carrying something that was hard to define—a mix of bitterness and wariness—"Potter is a Parseltongue."

He barely moved his lips as he said this, as if even the word itself made him uncomfortable.

But Dumbledore noticed that he didn't say "Potter is a Parseltongue," but rather "Potter is a Parseltongue." He seemed surprised not by the fact itself, but by the fact that everyone had seen it.

"What do you think?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape was silent for a few seconds.

"As a Potter, Harry couldn't possibly be a Parseltongue, unless..."

Snape was also unwilling to call Voldemort by his name, even though he had once been his master.

"The night that person disappeared, something transferred to Potter. That scar."

"It's not just scars."

Dumbledore nodded slightly.

Snape knew more about Lily's death and the scars Voldemort left on Harry than anyone else was willing to tell him.

He stood up from his chair, walked to the window, and looked at the dark clouds over Black Lake.

Dumbledore, as the greatest wizard, immediately realized through his years of experience that this was most likely the power that Voldemort had inadvertently transferred when he tried to kill Harry.

And it may not be just about strength —

"Sophistry, huh? That means..."

He said, "Harry possessed a portion of Voldemort's power. When Voldemort tried to kill him, he inadvertently transferred a part of himself to him. Parsley was just one manifestation of that."

He turned around, his deep blue eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

"But this, in turn, also means something else."

Snape's brow twitched.

"The secret room."

"What secret room?"

"The Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin".

That's not a legend—

'

Snape said instinctively, then stopped abruptly, frowning as he realized Dumbledore was hiding something from him.

Dumbledore then explained to him the existence of Moaning Myrtle, the Chamber of Secrets, the Basilisk, and the diary—of course, only saying that it was a dark magic artifact left behind by Voldemort.

Although the secret of the Horcruxes was not mentioned, what Snape pieced together from that information was enough to make him turn pale.

Because he knew that Dumbledore was definitely hiding some information, some more dangerous information.

Dumbledore continued, "If Harry possesses Voldemort's powers, then he also possesses Voldemort's authority."

"The Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin is only open to the true heir, but the definition of 'heir' has never been bloodline."

.

Snape stared intently at Dumbledore.

"Albus, you promised me you would protect Lily's child."

Is Dumbledore taking a risk, or is he taking a risk with the only thing Lily left behind?

"Oh, of course, I definitely will, and I've always been doing it."

Dumbledore's voice left no room for argument: "I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Now, I need your continued help."

Snape snorted, his black robes billowing as he turned and left the office.

The events of that night at the Dueling Club simmered in Hogwarts for several days.

Xavier knew that the best way to quell the rumors was to confront them directly; trying to silence them would only leave hidden dangers.

It's like extinguishing a fire before it gets going, rather than burying your head in the sand and pretending you didn't see it.

Harry was initially reluctant, but Ron saw things very clearly: "If you don't explain, the gossip will only grow longer and longer."

Next, at Xavier's suggestion, Harry and his friends presented the evidence they had collected in class and in the common room.

Before the young wizards' fear of Parseltongue could solidify, it was dispelled by a mountain of evidence presented in black and white.

Dumbledore also stepped forward to declare that Harry was a rare "new Parseltongue," and the other professors followed suit.

The young wizards believed it.

Harry and his friends have handled this matter very well; there is evidence, the professor's and the Ministry of Magic's endorsement, and others have no choice but to believe it.

A few days later, one evening, Dumbledore summoned Harry to his office.

Also present was Snape, standing silently in the corner, his expression like he'd swallowed a whole uncooked mandrake. But Harry had learned to ignore Snape's expression.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, “I need to tell you something. You’re a Parseltongue—you already know that. But what you may not know is that this isn’t an ordinary gift. It represents a very special connection between you and Salazar Slytherin.”

"I know," Harry said, "is it Voldemort?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed behind his half-moon lenses.

“My friends checked the family tree for me,” Harry said. “I’m not a Slytherin descendant. The Potters aren’t listed as related to me at all. So—I guess it was him who left it that night, and he’s the only one I can think of. Right, Professor?”

Harry touched the lightning bolt scar on his forehead and looked at Dumbledore pleadingly, hoping for a negative answer.

For example, he might be a new parsley singer or something, it's just a coincidence and has nothing to do with anyone else.

Snape shifted in the corner.

Dumbledore paused for a moment, then nodded slightly.

Harry is very smart, much smarter than anyone can imagine. He fooled everyone else, including his friends—even the clever Hermione and Xavier, and Ron who was always by his side.

From the moment he faced Professor Quirrell, or rather Voldemort, in his first year, the stinging sensation he felt made him vaguely understand something.

"You're very perceptive, Harry. Yes, and your Parsleyan accent is one of the direct pieces of evidence of this connection."

Harry stood in front of the desk, waiting for him to continue.

"This situation might actually be reversed and benefit us."

Dumbledore looked at Harry and decided to stop seeing him as a child who needed protection. Although he was still a child, he was capable of bearing some secrets, and he trusted Harry.

"There's a place in Hogwarts Castle that only Parseltongue can open. It holds the truth behind a murder that happened fifty years ago—we need to go in."

Why?

"For Hagrid's sake, for Myrtle's sake, and for the safety of Hogwarts—may never happen again like what happened to Myrtle."

"Now, would you like to do me a favor?"

Harry's green eyes lit up.

Snape stared into his emerald green eyes, momentarily lost in thought. Those eyes were so similar... Then Snape saw Harry's face, and his expression changed drastically, as if he had swallowed a copious amount of dung.

Damn Potter.

Neither Dumbledore nor Harry noticed the Potions Professor next to them, who was using his robes to control his facial expressions.

"The entrance to the secret chamber is very well hidden and enchanted; only Parsleyan can open it. I can't get in—I can only speak Parsley, but I'm not a Parsleyan. That's the key difference. And you are."

He stood up, walked over to Harry, knelt down, looked him straight in the eye, and told him about the danger.

"But this is only the first door. There may be more dangers deeper inside the secret chamber."

"So," Harry said, "you need me to open the door for you."

Dumbledore smiled.

"Yes."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Harry said that Gryffindors never lacked the courage to face danger; they were brave lions.