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Hidden Family	By : vinsmouse Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > General - Misc Views: 17507 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Biggles, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

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Chapter XXX

9th November 1992

Hogwarts Great Hall

“May I have your attention please,” Dumbledore called out to the students during breakfast. “Thank you. Before we partake of the wonderful breakfast provided for us I have an announcement to make. Beginning the coming Friday Hogwarts shall form a duelling club. This club is open to all students beginning from second year students. The club will be administered by Professor Lockhart. Sign up sheets, for those who wish to participate, will be made available in your common rooms. That is all.”

“A duelling club with that idiot in charge?” Harry sputtered. “Are you sure the man isn’t insane Draco?”

Draco chuckled. “As I’ve said before he would like for you to believe that but I don’t think so. I take it you have no interest in the duelling club?”

“No bloody way!”

“Harry language,” Hermione admonished.

“Sorry Hermione. But there is no way I would spend any more time than necessary with that man. He’s, as Bertie might say, a buffoon.”

Hermione giggled. She couldn’t argue with Harry and it did sound like something Bertie would say. “What shall we do during the duelling club meetings? I would imagine most of the students will be joining.”

Harry shrugged.

“We could do more research on the Chamber of Secrets,” Draco suggested.

“You really think that is the Chamber mentioned in the writing?” Hermione asked.

“I do.”

“I agree with Draco. You’ve read Hogwarts a History just as I have, do you remember anything of a closed Chamber?” Harry asked.

“Well no,” Hermione chewed her lip.

“And you heard Binns in History going on about Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets. It fits with what we know so far. At any rate it is the best lead we have,” Harry pointed out.

“I suppose it is,” said Hermione, conceding the point.

16th November, 1992

Mount Street Flat

Ginger once more perused the most recent letter from his grandson. Harry said there had been no further attacks yet he had heard the strange voice in the walls on more than one occasion. Reading between the lines he could see the lad was concerned for his own sanity. Truthfully Ginger was beginning to wonder himself. When he had mentioned his concern to Biggles the older man had scoffed and told him not to be foolish.

“Alright old boy?” Bertie asked as he joined Ginger in the parlour.

“Hmmm?”

“Still worrying over Harry’s letter?”

“I can’t help worrying over this voice he keeps hearing. None of his friends have heard it so it isn’t a ghost or any living person.”

“There you go, mustn’t be a bally person at all.”

Ginger stared. “Bertie if you weren’t a man I’d kiss you.”

“What did I say?”

“You said the voice must not be a person.” When Bertie made no response Ginger gave an exasperated sigh. “Don’t you see Bertie, if it isn’t a person or ghost and only Harry is hearing it there is only one other explanation. That is if our lad isn’t going round the bend.”

“Are you going to jolly well tell me or do I have to guess?” Bertie irritably enquired.

“A snake Bertie old boy, a snake. Harry will be quite relieved I’m sure.”

“What’s this about a snake?” Biggles asked as he and Algy joined the party.

Ginger quickly explained what he had concluded, thanks to Bertie. “I think I’ll write him immediately.”

“Don’t forget to remind him how the Wizarding world views parselmouths,” Algy instructed.

“Right you are,” Ginger nodded. Moving to the desk he withdrew parchment and pen. He and the others refused to write with quills but had soon realized the wisdom of parchment. Posting letters by way of owls naturally meant a fair amount of wind as the birds flew from one destination to another. This was something ordinary paper would never hold up to but parchment, being much thicker and sturdier, could easily withstand the stresses placed upon it.
17th November, 1992

Hogwarts Great Hall

“Hello Hedwig,” Harry cheerfully greeted his owl. Removing the letter he rewarded her with a treat which she promptly carried into the rafters.

“What does your grandfather have to say?” Hermione curiously asked.

Harry read it over. “He thinks he’s figured out my problem and I must say I think he’s correct.”

“What is it?”

“Faulty memory,” Harry replied. A quick glance told him nobody was watching; quickly he mouthed later and slipped the letter into his robes.

Following breakfast Harry led the way from the hall. Ducking into an unused classroom he quickly explained the contents of Ginger’s letter to Hermione.

“Do you think he’s right?” Hermione asked.

“I think he might be. You must admit it makes sense.” He turned as the door opened, “Draco,” he smiled, relieved it was only his friend.

“What are you two doing in here?”

“We were just talking.”

“About the letter you received?”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. Hermione shrugged, it was after all Harry’s secret.

“Yes. It was from my grandfather.”

Draco frowned. “Not bad news I hope?”

“No, no, quite the opposite in fact...I think.”

“I don’t understand,” Draco admitted. He watched as the other two exchanged another look. “If you don’t want to tell me you don’t have to,” he said, though he failed to hide his hurt.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you Draco, not exactly,” Harry hedged. He sighed heavily. “Alright I’ll tell you but please don’t repeat this to anybody.”

“I promise I won’t tell.”

As quickly and succinctly as possible Harry explained about his talent and how he had discovered it. He further explained that he had been cautioned not to bandy it about the Wizarding world as many thought it a dark skill. “I think they’re being quite short-sighted myself, it’s a bit like muggles who wish to do away with guns because some people misuse them.”

“Guns?”

“They’re weapons; they propel bullets at a very high rate of speed towards a target the shooter aims at. If they hit the right spot they can kill,” Harry explained.

“But wouldn’t that make them evil just as we think of parseltongue as being a dark art?” Draco asked. It seemed to the blond Harry’s argument was only proving parseltongue to be evil.

“Guns are only weapons, tools if you will. They aren’t capable of being evil. It is the person using the gun who determines if it is used for good or ill. You see Draco while a gun could be used to kill another person for no reason, it can also be used to protect an innocent person from somebody intent on harming or killing them. A gun can also be used to kill animals so that a man can feed his family. True we no longer need hunt to provide for our families but at one time it was common. Then too a gun might be used to kill an animal that was about to attack a man. Do you see?”

Draco nodded. “It does make sense. So you’re saying that parseltongue is like these guns?”

“Yes,” Harry smiled. “The ability to speak another language, and that’s all parseltongue is, is a gift or a skill. You wouldn’t think somebody speaking French was evil only because you couldn’t understand them would you?”

“Of course not, but that’s different.”

“How is it different?” Harry asked.

“Because a lot of people speak French,” Draco smugly replied after a moment’s thought.

“That only means parseltongue is a rare skill among humans. “

Hermione had been silent until now but she could remain quiet no longer. “What about mermish?” she asked.

Draco turned to her. “What are you on about Hermione?”

“Do you think those who can speak mermish are evil?”

“No, of course not.”

“Not many people can do it, can they?” Hermione pressed.

“Well no but that doesn’t make it...evil,” he barely whispered the final word. “Point taken,” he conceded. “Most people won’t see parseltongue that way though, nor will Harry be given a chance to explain.”

“Which is why he hasn’t advertised his ability.”

“Nor will I,” said Harry.

“If Ginger is right what are you going to do Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I’m not sure,” Harry chewed on his lip. “I suppose we should begin looking for snakes that can petrify people and animals.”

“Should we tell Professor Flitwick?” Draco asked. “Don’t look at me like that,” he protested when his friends turned incredulous looks his way. “He’s part Goblin you know.”

“And that means?” Harry asked.

“He won’t view parseltongue in the same way as most wizards. He may be able to help us figure out what type of snake it is. That is always assuming that the snake is connected to the attacks.”

“That’s a good point Harry. I think we should risk it,” Hermione put her two pence in.

“Except it isn’t you risking anything Hermione,” Harry pointed out. Though he no longer flinched at every raised voice or expected to be beaten if he did anything wrong, Harry had never forgot the pain of being treated like a freak by his former family. He wasn’t certain he could stand being thought of as such again.

TBC...
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Hidden Family