Chapter 117 The Old Basilisk Rescue Plan
This sentence was in English, not Parseltongue.
Every creature present knew what it meant—
even without an expression, Cohen could see the "disappointment" in the basilisk's head drooping instantly.
"There are humans in this circle?" the Earl exclaimed. "Am I hallucinating from being blindfolded for so long?"
"It's a spell left by Slytherin." Cohen frowned, realizing things weren't simple.
Slytherin had specifically left a spell on the basilisk; this spell certainly had more than just protecting it from other spells. Its main purpose was likely to prevent others from taking the basilisk away from Hogwarts.
Slytherin had been dead for over a thousand years; the spell's magic must be incredibly powerful to still be effective after so many years.
It seemed…
the old basilisk wouldn't be able to get into Cohen's box.
The Unbreakable Vow wasn't the most important thing; Cohen was just adding a safety net. The most important thing was the spell that restrained the basilisk. It hadn't left the school not because it was lazy or a recluse, but simply because Slytherin wouldn't allow it to leave.
"Perhaps I should..." the old basilisk coiled up, "find a place to wait..."
"That descendant of Slytherin will come again," Sissoko said. "He'll make you kill again—why don't you refuse to see him next time? The one who came the time before last couldn't speak Parseltongue at all—I think he was just like that half-baked Derek in the lab, learning on the spot."
"But the second one... was real..." the old basilisk seemed very quiet, "I couldn't resist his words."
"So none of you can resist the real Parseltongue, right?" Cohen asked. "What about you, Sissoko? Did that 'Slytherin's heir' make you do anything?"
"Me?" Sissoko raised his head to Cohen's level, looking quite smug. "He's too green to control me—not every snake is stupid—ah, old man, I wasn't talking about you..."
The old snake monster's heart was wounded once again.
"Is there anything about you that's different from other snakes?" Cohen asked.
"Probably something those people in that lab injected me with—I don't know, they fed me," Sissoko said, flicking his tongue.
"?"
Cohen looked at Sissoko with an utterly bewildered expression, like someone on a subway, an old man, or a cell phone.
"They fed you, and then you let them do whatever they wanted to you?"
"What else?" Sissoko didn't quite understand Cohen's meaning either. "They fed you..."
"They fed you and then you just let them mess with your body?" Cohen asked.
"But they gave me a cow every three days."
"What if they put some weird stuff in you? Don't you have any sense of danger?" Cohen frowned. "I mean, don't you feel disgusted? For a little food..." "
But it was a cow every three days." Sissoko didn't feel cheated at all by that deal. "I lay there mooching off them for a year!"
"Go eat your cow then."
Cohen had gained a new, deeper, and more comprehensive understanding of Sissoko.
This snake is a simple-minded glutton—it seems almost identical to Norbert except for the fact that it can talk.
"No, there's also his bad habit of calling me 'son.' I need to find a way to get him to change that, otherwise Cohen always feels like it's taking advantage of him.
" "But it's not entirely hopeless," Cohen said to the old basilisk.
Its yellow vertical pupils stared nervously at Cohen—letting a living person here would be like being stared to death, but in its eyes, Cohen was already some kind of wizard-like being—the first time in over a thousand years that a wizard had spoken to it in this way. Those Slytherin heirs were just giving orders—they couldn't, and didn't want to, say anything more to it.
"I've lived peacefully among the wizarding community for eleven years," Cohen said eloquently. "Their moral compass is the easiest to control. As long as you show that your heart is good, most wizards will forgive your evil deeds that are 'not from your heart'—when I was one year old, I killed more than three hundred people and they didn't hold me accountable." ("Yeah, yeah, I was watching," Sissoko chimed in from the side.)
"I don't understand..." The old basilisk didn't understand the long string of words Cohen was reciting.
"He means you have to go and tell those wizards in the castle who want to kill you that you were forced—I had that researcher Derek tell me a lot of wizarding stories to keep me entertained, and these
things are also in The Tales of Beedle the Bard…" Sissoko explained. "You're proud of being over three hundred years old and still having bedtime stories told to you, aren't you?" Cohen said, covering his face. "You're not allowed to embarrass me in public anymore."
"So you acknowledge that you're my son—"
"Can a snake survive without a tongue?" Cohen asked.
Sissoko's voice trailed off.
Damn it, the Earl Virus is still spreading!
"But those wizards don't understand Parseltongue…" the old basilisk said. "I can't explain it to them…"
"No, no, no—" Cohen shook his head. "There are three Parseltongue speakers in this school: me, that 'Slytherin's heir,' and a student named Harry. And he'll definitely challenge you for the safety of the students—if the Slytherin's heir continues to have you kill people."
"At the same time, a very powerful, twisted old man will help that hot-blooded student. If nothing unexpected happens, you'll be killed by that student." Cohen continued. "But something unexpected will definitely happen, because I am the unexpected."
"So I have to tell that student that I was forced?" the old basilisk said worriedly. "Will he believe me?"
"It's useless for you to say that while you're forced to pounce on him and bite him." Cohen reminded him. "He acted in self-defense, and it would be reasonable for you to die—besides, you might have actually been forced to kill a student at that time. The crime of killing someone is different from the crime of petrifying someone. People might not remember a death from fifty years ago, but they will definitely remember a recent death. So, to save you, you have to prepare two things you must do."
"What is it?" The old basilisk pinned his hopes on Cohen.
"What is it?" Sissoko asked, joining in the fun.
"What are you talking about? I'm so cold, am I already dead?" The Earl, confused by the hissing sounds filling his ears, asked.
"First of all, the easier part," Cohen said, "even if the heir of Slytherin asks you to kill someone, you can't actually kill with a stare. As long as you don't make direct eye contact, the Killing Curse will be weakened to petrification. Petrification is relatively easy to remove. Hogwarts has a batch of mandrakes, so you won't cause any real damage. Then you can tell Harry that you tried your best—that sounds more likely to evoke sympathy. Don't worry, he has an extremely high level of sympathy."
"But how do I control... my gaze?" the old basilisk asked.
"You can't control it, but I can," Cohen raised an eyebrow. "Like I said, I'm the accident in this incident—and so is Sissoko. Sissoko will stay here for now. If the Slytherin heir comes and says they want to kill someone, have Sissoko come find me, and I'll intervene."
"I have no objection," Sissoko agreed. He
could slack off later—he'd already become friends with the old basilisk; after all, there weren't many basilisks in the world.
"The second point is a bit more difficult," Cohen said. "Since Sissoko can resist Parseltongue because of some injection, it must work on you too—but the lab has been destroyed, and everyone inside is dead. Replicating that injection is practically starting from scratch."
"So the difficulty is…" Cohen said, "I don't know alchemy at all."
Ps..
I need your support, thank you.
Read 50+ advanced chapters at P@treon
[email protected]/Horizons685
(End of Chapter)