Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 231 Rice: Harry, think more

Rice put the Swedish meatballs she had forked back onto the plate and glanced at Harry.

"I don't quite understand what you're talking about."

"That night, Halloween, you know!" Harry looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to them, then lowered his voice and asked.

"You must have heard something, Rice," Harry said with absolute certainty. "Actually, I heard some things too, some strange things."

Harry stared intently at Rice's face, hoping to glean something from his facial expression.

The experience of that night, the sounds he vaguely heard, haunted Harry. He desperately wanted to talk to Rice about it. However, he was always surrounded by people, either himself or Rice, making it inconvenient. At the Christmas party today, he finally found a chance to be alone with Rice, and naturally, he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Unfortunately, he couldn't glean anything from Rice's expression.

Although Rice didn't seem to change much on the surface, he was still slightly touched. The reason was simple: Harry's behavior was just too "Gryffindor"—he just rushed over and asked him so bluntly.

If he really is the murderer who was determined to open the Chamber of Secrets and cause the killings, then Harry has really put himself in danger—very Gryffindor.

For the sake of his Gryffindor status, Rice decided to reveal a bit of the truth to Harry.

"You've already predetermined your stance, which leaves me speechless. You only want to believe what you believe, don't you?"

"I—" Harry opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but then felt that what Rice said made sense, and that he had indeed been somewhat prejudiced.

"But that night your wand, and the food box..." Harry recounted the suspicious things he had observed that day.

Rice: ...

"There are reasons for all of these. For example, my stomach really hurts, or my robe pocket has a hole—these are all possible. These don't constitute evidence that I heard the 'strange noises' you mentioned." Rhys spread his hands, looking at Harry with considerable helplessness. "You're still being controlled by your own subjective opinions. You've presupposed a fact and then searched for all sorts of evidence to prove it; this logic is flawed."

"I heard from Daphne that you believed Professor Snape was the ultimate villain last year, and you even found ample evidence, didn't you?"

Harry was silent. After a few seconds, he said stiffly, "That's not the same thing."

"That's the same thing," Rice interrupted his argument.

"That night I was just going to the kitchen to get something to eat because I missed dinner. But you, like you suspected Professor Snape last year, are suspicious of me. That won't do. You shouldn't assume someone is the culprit before you start your reasoning; it will interfere with your judgment."

"I didn't treat you like a criminal—"

Rice waved his hand. "That's not important."

"You know, there are so many murals in the school, and even talking armor. What you heard was very likely the sound they were making."

"This..." Harry thought what Rice said was nonsense, but upon closer inspection, it made some sense.

Could it really be the sound coming from the armor or the murals? It's not impossible that it's just Peeves playing a prank.

"There is one last possibility."

Rice's words caught Harry's attention again. He looked up, wanting to hear what Rice meant by "the last possibility."

"Harry, did you have any experience talking or communicating with animals when you were a child?"

Rice's words made Harry's eyes widen: he remembered something that happened when he was almost eleven years old.

That day, Uncle Vernon and his family took him to the zoo, where a python seemed to communicate with him!

"Yes, there really is! When I was ten, a python understood what I was saying." Harry's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Yes, I used to be able to communicate with animals!"

Rice gave a knowing smile.

"This is a special talent, which may answer your question—you actually heard the sound of a hungry snake hunting that night."

Harry had a sudden realization: this explained everything; he could communicate with snakes, which was why he heard the voice. Rice and Ron didn't have this ability, so they didn't hear anything.

But when he thought about this, Harry felt a little uncomfortable, because what he hated most was being "different." He didn't want to be the most special person in the crowd, and he didn't want to be pointed at and talked about by others.

"I suggest you talk to Ron about this before you tell the other students that you've communicated with snakes." Given Parsley's notorious reputation in the modern wizarding world—well, the ancient wizarding world too—Rice didn't recommend that Harry spread the word about his Parsley knowledge.

This was his way of showing some consideration for the Gryffindor students, Rice thought.

It's rare to see someone so straightforward as to come and ask me so many questions.

Harry nodded seriously; he did indeed have that idea. Although he didn't understand what was so special about being able to communicate with snakes, he really didn't want to be labeled as different from others anymore.

"By the way, where are you planning to go after the dinner tonight? It can't be back to Hogwarts, can it?" Rice was quite curious about Harry's next move.

"I'll go back to the Burrow with Ron—the Weasley family's ancestral home—for a while and spend Christmas there."

"Then I wish you a Merry Christmas in advance!"

"the same as you."

The exchange between the two has come to an end.

Harry got the "answer" he wanted, and Rice also revealed some of the truth he had observed to Harry.

As for why I didn't tell Harry the whole truth... it's mainly because I was afraid the kid wouldn't be able to accept it right away. If I only exchanged a few words with Harry and then he jumped into the Black Lake, wouldn't Dumbledore come knocking on our door? What would happen to the school's reputation then?

As the clock struck twelve, a grand fireworks display was set off in the manor, and guests who had come from all over the country and even the world began to leave one after another.

Harry left with the Weasleys, while Daphne and Astoria dragged their weary steps back to Rice's side.

"Would you like something to eat? I used magic to keep them warm." Rice brought out several dishes.

"Thank God!" Daphne couldn't care less about anything else and started eating the food.

Chatting with those "ladies" had exhausted her; they seemed to be able to produce nutrients and feed themselves simply by vibrating their vocal cords. She barely ate anything throughout the entire banquet.

Watching Daphne wolf down her food, and Astoria, who ate more politely but at a speed no less than her sister, Rice smiled helplessly: These two kids have it tough.

Christmas Eve slipped away quietly in this atmosphere.

Unfortunately, Rice can't sleep yet because he has to prepare Christmas presents for his friends.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

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(End of this chapter)