Thick of it : reboot

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with low murmurs of worry and speculation as students huddled together in small groups. The recent events had shaken everyone to their core. First, Harry's dramatic Quidditch match had ended with a rather bizarre injury, courtesy of Professor Lockhart's incompetence. Then, student had been found petrified, sending fresh waves of fear throughout the school.

James, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, and a few others sat near the fireplace, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames.

Neville broke the uneasy silence, his voice trembling. "Another one was found petrified... I'm really scared. What if... what if it's me next?"

Ron, slammed his hand on the armrest of his chair. "I'm telling you, we should just expel all of Slytherin House! That'll stop this nonsense."

James raised an eyebrow, his tone calm . "That's a bit extreme, Ron. You can't just throw out an entire house because of suspicion."

Harry, sitting beside Ron, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think one of them might be behind it too, but blaming the whole house isn't fair. There are innocent people in Slytherin."

Neville fidgeted with his hands, glancing around nervously. "But whoever's doing this... they have to stop. This is just wrong."

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What can we do, though? If we could just figure out who it is, maybe we could stop them."

Hermione, who had been quietly scribbling notes in her notebook, glanced up sharply at Harry's words. She frowned slightly, as though weighing whether harry has forget their plan and contemplative to or not to involve James in their plan. For now, she decided to hold her tongue, opting to wait.

Ron leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I'm telling you—it's Malfoy. He's always up to no good."

James let out a small sigh, shaking his head. "Ron, jumping to conclusions won't help anyone. Let's focus on facts, not just on who annoys you the most."

The conversation shifted as Ron, perhaps to lighten the mood, turned to James with an almost sheepish grin. "Hey, uh, James, about that... mind if I borrow your homework for Defense Against the Dark Arts? I didn't have time to finish it."

Before James could respond, Hermione snapped her notebook shut with a sharp thwack, glaring at Ron. "Honestly, Ronald! Copying homework isn't going to teach you anything. How do you expect to learn if you keep relying on everyone else to do the work for you?"

James chuckled, nodding in agreement. "She's got a point, mate. If you keep copying, you'll never really learn the material." He leaned forward, his tone taking on a more teasing edge. "Tell you what—if you can take what you copy from me and actually do it in practice, I'll show you my next assignment. But if you can't, no more free homework."

Ron groaned, clearly not thrilled by the terms. He turned to Harry for support. "What about you, Harry? You don't want to waste time struggling with homework, do you?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, then shook his head firmly. "No, Ron. I've been thinking about it, and... well, I want to try doing my homework on my own from now on. James was right—magic is amazing, and I want to understand it properly."

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly in shock, but she quickly recovered, beaming at Harry. "That's wonderful, Harry! I'm so proud of you."

Neville, encouraged by the positive atmosphere, chimed in with a shy smile. "If you need help with Herbology, Harry, I'd be happy to help. It's one of the few subjects I'm actually good at."

Harry smiled warmly at Neville. "Thanks, Neville. I appreciate it."

Ron, however, stared at the group like they'd all gone mad. "What is this, some sort of study club? We should be having fun, not turning into Hermione clones!"

James grinned mischievously, reaching into his bag. "Who said we can't have fun? I've got just the thing."

From his bag, he pulled out a deck of colorful cards—an enchanted version of Uno he had created. The cards shimmered faintly, and a few of them let out small, excited chirps.

"What's this?" Ron asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Uno," James said with a smirk. "It's a Muggle game, but I've made a magical twist to it. Trust me, you'll love it."

The group gathered around the table, and soon the room was filled with laughter and playful arguments as they played round after round. Even Hermione, despite her initial reluctance, couldn't help but crack a smile as Ron yelled in frustration over being hit with a Draw Four card, stacked.

After several games, the group began to disperse for the night. James, however, held Harry back as the others headed upstairs.

"Harry, can I talk to you for a moment?" James asked, his tone more serious now.

Harry looked puzzled but nodded. "Sure, what's up?"

James glanced around to make sure they were alone, then leaned in slightly. "I've been meaning to ask you about something. At night... you've been speaking in a strange hissing voice in your sleep. Do you know what that's about?"

Harry's eyes widened in alarm. "I—what? I didn't even know I was doing that."

James studied him carefully. "Have you ever spoken to an animal? Like, actually had a conversation with one?"

Harry hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, once. At the zoo. I talked to a snake. It... it talked back to me."

James exhaled, leaning back in his chair. "That's what I thought. Harry, you're a Parselmouth. It means you can speak Parseltongue—the language of snakes. It's a rare ability, and in the wizarding world, it's... well, it's not looked at very kindly."

Harry's face turned pale. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

James hesitated, then explained gently. "The most famous Parselmouths in history were Salazar Slytherin and Voldemort. Because of that, people associate it with dark magic. If people here find out you can speak it, especially with what's happening now, they'll jump to conclusions and blame you."

Harry looked down at his hands, clearly distressed. "I didn't know what to do . I don't even know how I do it."

James placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's not something to be ashamed of, Harry. It's part of who you are, and it makes you unique. But for now, it's best to keep it to yourself. Don't speak Parseltongue in here. And if you're feeling unsure about it, talk to Sirius. He'll know what to do."

Harry nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks, James. I don't know what I'd do without you."

James grinned, giving him a light pat on the back. "That's what mates are for. Come on, let's get to bed."

The two of them headed upstairs, leaving the flickering warmth of the common room behind as the castle settled into an uneasy silence for the night.