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Chapter 148
Harry glanced over curiously. One unfortunate student was shivering from head to toe—whether from the cold or from being scolded, Harry couldn't tell.
Practicing Transfiguration in weather like this was sheer madness.
Still, it made him wonder. Would Hufflepuffs be turned into badgers? Would Gryffindors become lions?
Speaking of the four Houses, Harry had always thought Gryffindor's symbol was the most impressive. A lion was far stronger and more majestic than Hufflepuff's badger or Slytherin's rather ugly snake.
The thought of his next class being Transfiguration made him slightly nervous. He certainly didn't want to accidentally turn someone into a snake or something similar. If that happened, his classmates would probably lose their minds.
After a moment's thought, Harry headed toward the library. In weather like this, there weren't many places around the castle suitable for wandering. Perhaps he might run into George and get some advice.
George wasn't there.
Instead, Harry came across a group of second-year Hufflepuffs. Like the Gryffindors, their Herbology lesson had been canceled, leaving them plenty of free time to spread rumors.
"So Hufflepuffs aren't as honest as people say," Harry muttered under his breath as fragments of conversation drifted into his ears.
He quietly slipped behind a bookshelf and listened.
"I still can't believe the famous Harry Potter is actually a Dark Wizard," said a tall, broad-shouldered boy in disbelief.
"Justin is terrified. He's afraid to even leave the common room. He told Potter he was Muggle-born and that he had attended Eton before Hogwarts. Imagine saying that to the Heir of Slytherin. It's horrifying."
"Hannah," the boy replied seriously, "Potter can speak Parseltongue. Everyone knows Parseltongue is the mark of a Dark Wizard. No respectable wizard speaks the language of snakes, let alone controls them. Salazar Slytherin himself was famous for it."
Once he started, the others eagerly joined in.
"The message on the wall said: Enemies of the Heir, beware. And Filch's cat was attacked right after Filch argued with Potter."
"Then there was Colin Creevey. During the Quidditch match, he kept taking pictures of Harry. Now he's in the hospital wing."
Harry stared in disbelief.
The evidence sounded remarkably convincing.
In fact, it wasn't much weaker than the theory that Malfoy was Slytherin's Heir.
The problem was that Harry had barely paid any attention to Colin during the Quidditch match.
Fortunately, someone finally spoke up in his defense.
It was the blonde girl, Hannah.
"But Harry always seems so kind," she said uncertainly.
"And he defeated You-Know-Who and saved the wizarding world. He's not a bad person... is he?"
Harry immediately perked up.
Surely they couldn't argue with that.
Unfortunately, he underestimated how easily people could twist facts to fit their beliefs.
"There are other explanations," Ernie replied, lowering his voice.
The group immediately leaned closer.
Even Harry found himself listening carefully.
"No one really knows how he survived You-Know-Who's attack as a baby. By all logic, he should have died. The only people capable of surviving a wizard that powerful would have to be even stronger."
His voice dropped to almost a whisper.
"Maybe Harry Potter is even more terrifying than You-Know-Who was. Maybe that's why You-Know-Who tried to kill him in the first place. Perhaps he sensed an even darker and more dangerous wizard was being born."
Harry nearly laughed out loud.
If the theory weren't about him, he might almost have found it convincing.
Still, Hannah wasn't finished.
"But why would he attack Muggle-borns?" she asked.
"His best friend Hermione is Muggle-born. And he hates Slytherin."
Harry felt a flicker of hope.
That should settle it.
It didn't.
"He hates Muggles," Ernie answered immediately.
"He hates the Muggle relatives he lives with. He hates them."
Harry was speechless.
The boy's reasoning was alarmingly sharp.
Of course Harry hated the Dursleys.
Anyone forced to live through what he had endured would hate them too.
But that had absolutely nothing to do with other Muggles.
"Right," Harry muttered sarcastically.
"Maybe I transform into a Dark Lord in my sleep and secretly command the Basilisk to attack students."
He couldn't listen anymore.
Nor did he feel like arguing with a group of Hufflepuffs who sounded utterly convinced of their own logic.
A line George had once said in exasperation suddenly came back to him.
Everyone thinks they're an expert on everything.
Harry trudged out of the library, feeling thoroughly miserable.
The wild theories continued behind him, but he ignored them.
Lowering his head, he muttered to himself:
"Next is Transfiguration. I should find Ron and Hermione first. Then maybe I can actually pay attention in class."
"And hopefully not turn anyone into a snake."
Shaking his head, he tried to push the conversation from his mind.
He climbed a staircase and turned into a dim corridor.
A loose windowpane rattled in the freezing wind, and several torches had already gone out.
Halfway down the corridor, Harry suddenly tripped over something.
Startled, he turned around and squinted through the darkness.
Then a wave of icy dread washed over him.
It felt as though all the warmth had been stripped from his body.
Justin Finch-Fletchley lay rigid on the floor.
His body was cold and motionless, as lifeless as the snow outside.
Frozen terror remained etched across his face, and his vacant eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.
And beside him—
Harry saw something so strange and horrifying that his breath caught in his throat.
(To be continued...)