"How is it? How do you feel?"
In the magical creatures hut, Evans watched Harry intently as the boy stared down at a row of serpents laid out before him on the wooden table. The afternoon sunlight stread through the windows, casting dancing shadows across the scales of the various snakes that coiled and shifted restlessly in their temporary arrangent.
Today marked the second day of Harry's Parseltongue training, but the results remained frustratingly elusive.
Harry's abilities proved more complex than Evans had initially anticipated. The boy could understand the conversations of highly intelligent serpents with remarkable clarity, their hissed words translating seamlessly in his mind. Yet when it ca to speaking their language, he seed to hit an invisible wall no matter how hard he concentrated.
This differed significantly from the beast-speakers Evans had encountered in his travels. According to every text he'd studied, communication with animals should flow as naturally as breathing for those blessed with such gifts. Perhaps Harry's complete lack of prior exposure to snakes created a psychological barrier, undermining his confidence before he could even begin.
"I still can't concentrate properly." Harry's shoulders sagged with defeat, his green eyes reflecting disappointnt behind wire-rimd glasses.
"Don't worry, take your ti." Evans kept his voice gentle and encouraging. "Since you can hear them speak clearly, it proves you possess this talent. Now it's simply a matter of learning how to unlock it."
"Right!" The reassurance sparked renewed determination in Harry's expression as he turned back to face the serpentine audience arranged before him.
"Stand up, stand up..." Harry's voice carried a note of desperate hope as he addressed the snakes.
While Harry resud his attempts, Evans glanced toward the other occupants of the hut. Hermione sat hunched over a stack of third-year essays at a nearby table, her quill scratching steadily as she helped grade the submissions with characteristic thoroughness. anwhile, Ron had grown so thoroughly bored with waiting that he'd begun an ambitious project of teaching Nana wizard's chess.
The endeavour showed surprising promise, though it ca with predictable complications. Initially, the Niffler couldn't resist pocketing the more valuable-looking pieces, stuffing them into her pouch with gleeful determination. However, she'd gradually begun treating the ga as intended entertainnt rather than a treasure hunt.
Of course, she still claid every piece she captured as rightful spoils, depositing them safely in her pouch. Since Evans had gifted Ron a particularly expensive collector's edition set, the gleaming pieces triggered Nana's treasure-hoarding instincts sothing fierce.
This led to lengthy negotiations after each ga, with Ron having to bargain extensively to retrieve all the missing pieces. Despite these complications, he remained remarkably enthusiastic about his unconventional tutoring sessions.
Shaking his head with fond amusent, Evans redirected his attention to Harry's continued efforts. The boy's dedication was admirable, though Evans decided against offering additional guidance for now. Sotis breakthrough required finding one's own rhythm.
Ti crawled by at a leisurely pace. After more than an hour of relentless practice, Harry's voice had grown hoarse from repetition, yet he refused to surrender. The sa basic command erged from his lips again and again, each attempt carrying the sa frustrated urgency.
Then, in a single transformative mont, everything changed.
"Stand up, stand up... hiss!"
A distinctly inhuman sound erupted from Harry's throat, unlike anything he'd produced before. The strange, sibilant hiss seed to hang in the air with otherworldly resonance. In imdiate response, the serpents before him began rising from their coiled positions with fluid grace, their attention fixed completely on the young wizard who had finally found his voice.
"You succeeded!" Ron and Hermione abandoned their respective activities, rushing to Harry's side with expressions of pure astonishnt.
Though Professor Kahn had explained Harry's abilities during their previous session, witnessing him actually command the serpents to obey felt nothing short of miraculous.
Harry stared at the upright snakes with dazed confusion etched across his features.
"What I just said... that wasn't English?"
In his perception, he'd simply spoken the words "stand up" in perfectly normal fashion. Yet the serpents had responded imdiately, and judging by his friends' shocked reactions, sothing far more extraordinary had occurred.
"Exactly! You suddenly started hissing just now. It sounded absolutely eerie and quite frightening!" Ron gazed at Harry with newfound wonder, then his expression shifted to excitent. "So can we form a serpent army now?"
"Far from it," Evans interjected with gentle correction. "Successfully speaking one command barely qualifies as entry-level proficiency. Harry still needs extensive practice before achieving true fluency."
He turned to address Harry directly, noting the spark of accomplishnt in the boy's eyes. "Rember that feeling you just experienced, that sense of giving a proper command. Let's work on bringing your Parseltongue to entry level today."
"Yes, Professor!" Motivated by his breakthrough, Harry threw himself into practice with renewed vigour.
With the foundation of initial success established, subsequent training proved far more productive. While Evans himself lacked beast-speaking abilities, his travels had brought him into contact with nurous wizards possessing such talents. Combined with his extensive reading on the subject, he felt confident in his ability to guide Harry's developnt.
"Pay attention to your emotional state," Evans instructed as Harry prepared for another attempt. "When issuing commands initially, maintain a calm, centred mindset. Early command effects remain quite weak, so excessive harshness might cause the ability to fail entirely."
"However, avoid being overly gentle either. You are commanding them, after all. Serpents differ from other animals in their psychology. They respond better to cool, authoritative tones than warm encouragent."
Under Evans's continuous guidance, Harry's proficiency increased dramatically. Beyond the initial "stand up" command, he successfully attempted over ten different instructions, each one t with varying degrees of serpentine compliance.
"Lie down, form a line, roll on the table, leave the table, tie yourself in a knot..." Harry paused at the final command, frowning when nothing happened. "Hmm, this one doesn't work?"
"If serpents tied themselves in knots, it would damage their bodies," Evans explained with an amused smile. "That type of command requires far more advanced skill than you currently possess."
He clapped his hands to signal the end of their session. "That's enough practice for today."
Harry rose reluctantly from his position beside the table, watching Professor Kahn carefully return the dozen serpents to their transparent carrying case before producing several leather-bound volus from his pockets.
"These books are for you. They contain comprehensive records related to beast-speakers throughout history. Study them carefully and return next Saturday for our next practical session."
Harry had successfully mastered several basic commands, though his success rate remained inconsistent. For a beginner, such progress was actually quite impressive.
Continuous use of beast-speaking abilities placed considerable strain on young wizards' ntal resources. While simple conversations with animals caused little fatigue, repeatedly issuing commands could quickly exhaust developing magical reserves.
A few days of rest combined with theoretical study would better prepare Harry for advanced training.
"Oh, Professor!" Hermione's voice suddenly piped up as they prepared to leave, her eyes bright with anticipation. "I noticed an announcent yesterday about the school forming a Duelling Club! The first eting is tomorrow night!"
Her expression radiated genuine excitent. "Will you be attending?"
"Duelling Club?" The term triggered an imdiate sense of foreboding in Evans's mind.
He dimly recalled that several days ago, following Lockhart's spectacular bathroom-exploding incident, the man had ntioned plans to establish so sort of club. Had Professor McGonagall actually approved such a venture? Or perhaps Dumbledore himself had sanctioned it?
"You won't go?" Hermione's face fell with visible disappointnt, matched by similar expressions from her two companions.
After a mont of consideration, Evans nodded slowly.
"I should probably attend."
He had no other commitnts tomorrow evening anyway. It might prove interesting to see what sort of spectacle would unfold.
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