Harry Potter was once again scratching his head in the library. Lately, due to his research into the Chamber of Secrets, he and Ron had come to the library countless times. To someone who didn't know better, it might have seemed like he had become a studious student—but in reality, he had no interest in studying at all; he was only here to investigate the Chamber.
At a desk in a quiet corner of the library, Harry and Ron were flipping through books they wouldn't normally even think of borrowing.
"We come to the library multiple times a day now. Even my brothers are praising me for being such a hardworking student."
Every time Ron thought of Fred and George pretending to be proud older brothers, he felt like vomiting.
"Yeah! Even Ginny came over to compliment our dedication and told us to get good grades."
Harry felt like the world had turned gray, like life had reached a dead end.
"Potter! Still haven't found the answer?"
Regulus Black sat down across from Harry and Ron, holding a book in his hand.
"Mr. Black!"
"Mr. Black!"
Harry and Ron greeted Regulus Black in unison. He was the center of all the recent commotion in the school. While others involved had ended up in the hospital wing, this teaching assistant—who was said to have been attacked numerous times—remained completely unharmed.
Of course, those conflicts over romantic partners had nothing to do with carefree single guys like Harry and Ron.
Being immature had its perks—at least you didn't get troubled by impulsive drama.
"Do you want to know the secret of the Chamber?"
Regulus Black cut straight to the point. These two troublemakers were no Dumbledore—they wouldn't begin a conversation by being guarded, suspicious, or skeptical. They were perfect targets for deception.
"Mr. Black! You know about the Chamber?!"
Ron perked up immediately, his voice rising several decibels.
"Calm down! Private space."
With a casual flick of his wand, Regulus Black cast a spell. A visible bubble of magic surrounded the three of them, distorting the view from inside to the outside.
"Relax. From the outside, everything here looks normal—they just can't hear anything we say. If someone walks into this area, the spell will break automatically, but they won't feel a thing."
Regulus Black stowed his wand, and the spell impressed the two Gryffindors.
"Mr. Black, we've been trying to find the Chamber, but we haven't gotten any leads."
Harry admitted the truth directly. Since Regulus had approached them on his own, it must mean he had some valuable information to offer.
"In fact, the Chamber is extremely dangerous. It was opened once about fifty years ago. A Ravenclaw girl died back then, and a Gryffindor student was expelled."
Regulus Black gave them a hint, curious to see how the two Gryffindors would react.
"I think we could try asking Nearly Headless Nick. Maybe the school ghosts know something about the Chamber."
Ron suddenly had a flash of inspiration, picking up on a detail from what Regulus had said. Although that wasn't quite the point Regulus was trying to make, this was the trouble with kids like them—no matter what you said, they'd interpret it differently and end up doing something entirely unexpected.
"Hey, hey! Don't rush off just yet. Since I gave you a lead, you've got to give something in return, right?"
Regulus stopped the two eager Gryffindors who were about to bolt, casually asking for something in return.
"Uh… well… Mr. Black, we're not really sure how to repay you for your help."
Merlin knows what Mr. Black might want. He wasn't like Fred and George, who only cared about money.
"I'm very interested in your Parseltongue. After all, it's a Slytherin ability. I don't know if you really are his heir, but I'm only interested in the ability itself. So… would you let me record your Parseltongue?"
Regulus Black handed the book in his hands to Harry Potter. It was a hardback with silver and green covers, and on the surface was an embossed silver serpent coiled across it. When opened, every page inside was completely blank.
"As long as you focus on recording something, the book will automatically capture your thoughts. For example, if you think about documenting the use of Parseltongue, it will record that."
There was a certain irresistible charm in Regulus Black's voice, making one feel an urge to keep listening to him speak.
"Yeah! Harry, if you record it, I could learn Parseltongue too!"
Ron, staring at Regulus Black, wore a dazed and foolishly adoring smile. No matter how you looked at him, Mr. Black seemed like a good person! He made so much sense—it was almost impossible to say no.
Harry didn't know why, but suddenly the scar on his forehead began to throb with pain, and his expression twisted immediately.
"Harry Potter, if you record the Parseltongue, maybe it could help ease the pain in your scar…"
Regulus Black had noticed Harry's condition and promptly offered the suggestion again.
Looking at the assistant teacher in front of him, Harry felt that this person was truly the only one who cared about him. If he weren't a man, he'd practically be a saint! That beautiful face, that noble temperament, such graceful manners—who could possibly be better than Mr. Black? Recording Parseltongue so others could study and learn it—this was a good thing!
Thinking this way, Harry opened the book and stared at the blank pages. Then he began muttering, "Ssssss…"—the sound of Parseltongue flowing steadily from his lips. As he spoke, the empty pages began to fill with serpentine text. Parseltongue wasn't just a spoken gift—it could also manifest as a unique script, similar to the ninja dog writing seen in some ninja-themed comics.
The timing was perfect. The entire afternoon was free time, with students from every house engaged in their own activities. Scattered around the library, small groups were quietly reading or studying. Even if someone noticed something strange going on here, they likely wouldn't approach—after all, with a teaching assistant present, no one would disturb them unless something truly urgent came up. Barring unforeseen events, the full acquisition of Parseltongue was practically guaranteed.
After over an hour, Harry finally completed the task. The silver-green book now contained a highly organized, systematic compilation of Parseltongue—both the spoken language and the script.
"Mr. Black, can I start learning Parseltongue now?"
Ron had watched Harry record the entire thing, wearing a blissful, eager smile the whole time. Now that the book was complete, he couldn't wait any longer.
"Take a look first. Learning Parseltongue requires talent. If you have the gift, you'll be able to understand it. If not, no amount of explanation will help."
Regulus Black handed the freshly inscribed book to Ron and watched as the red-haired Gryffindor flipped through it again and again, gradually growing more and more disheartened. Finally, Regulus placed a hand over the pages to block his view.
"Ron, stop looking. If you don't have the talent, you won't be able to understand it. But don't get discouraged! You've got a gift for wizard chess—you've never lost, have you?"
Ron's expression, which had begun to droop with disappointment, immediately brightened at the mention of wizard chess, returning to his usual confident self.
"That's right! Everyone has different talents. Mine is in wizard chess. But I still wish I had some talent for Quidditch too."
With that, he and Harry burst into goofy laughter, as if they'd already won the Quidditch Cup.
"As long as you stay confident, victory in Quidditch will be yours,"Regulus Black said after thinking ahead to future events, then gave his firm assurance with a pat on the chest.
"That's all for today. You can start investigating the clues I gave you earlier. If you run into any problems, come back and find me."
Regulus Black picked up the book and left the library.
"Harry! So where should we start our search?"
"Ron, I think we should ask them one by one. Let's start with Nearly Headless Nick."
With a hint of dreamy satisfaction, Harry and Ron cheerfully left the library.
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