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Panicking, Harry jumped up. He froze as his chair clattered to the ground. "Wait! Don't move, don't take a step. You might squish her!"

"Why don't you just call for her so we know where she is?"

Good idea. "Sals," Harry called.

"In Parseltongue, Harry," Draco impatiently clarified as he stood perfectly still.

"I can't make it come out on it's own!" Harry protested. "It only works when I'm talking to a snake, or at least a picture--"

"Well, pretend, Potter!"

Harry closed his eyes and tried. "Sals--" The snorting noise Draco made told him well enough that he hadn't managed any Parseltongue. Well, Draco was a fine one to complain. "I can't believe you didn't tell me what you'd done instantly!" Harry raged.

"I couldn't tell you!" Draco shouted back, standing as still as a statue. "At first I was hoping it would wear off, and then I realized you'd get pretty mad at me, like you are--"

"Oh, don't be an idiot!" Harry snarled. "I'm not mad at you!"

"Could have fooled me," Draco muttered.

"It's not like I think you did it on purpose. I'm worried, all right?" Harry paused, his mind racing. "Hmm, tell you what. Pat down the area near you to make sure she's not there, and then kneel. We'll crawl all over, sweeping our hands on the floor to try to find her. I'll check the Floo first, of course, but I can't walk there in case I step on  her. Got it?"

"Got it," Draco echoed, his voice churning with nausea. "You want me to rub my hands all over the filthy floor in hopes I might actually be fortunate enough to touch a sodding snake."

Harry was already on his hands and knees, carefully feeling the floor all around as he moved toward the fireplace. "I know you have issues, Malfoy, but are you planning to help or not?"

With a few muttered oaths, Draco got down on the floor too, making awful faces as he patted the stones as though they might bite him. By then, Harry had made it to the Floo. "She's not here!" He started to shake, his hands trembling so much that he could barely keep searching. "And what are we going to do even if we do find her? Is there a counter-Potion or something?"

"The textbook doesn't stretch to counter-Potions for every creature under the sun," Draco snapped. "And it didn't list one for wizards, either," he admitted.

Harry stood up, careful not to shift his feet, and grabbed some Floo powder off the ebony box on the mantel. Without thinking, he tossed it in and called, "Potions office!"

Nothing happened, absolutely nothing. Well, what had made him think his magic might be coming back? Just because he could repress his wild powers didn't mean he could access them, did it?

"Severus has a class just now," Draco reminded him.

Grinding his teeth in exasperation, Harry flung more powder in and yelled for the Potions classroom.

When Snape's torso and head leaned forward out of the fire, Harry squeaked in shock and fell backwards onto his arse. "It worked," he mouthed, scarcely able to believe it, himself.

"Problem?" Snape snapped, his gaze swinging to take in the entire room in a glance.

"S... Sals is lost," Harry started to explain.

"Mr. Potter, I am currently endeavoring not to let a cohort of first-year Hufflepuffs damage my classroom while they mangle themselves beyond recognition. Kindly allow me to continue."

With that, he vanished to leave Harry staring slack-jawed at the crackling fire.

Mr. Potter? Then it came to him that Snape was with students, so he was in full Potions Master mood. Still, he could have listened for longer than a second and a half.

"I could have told you he wouldn't leave first-years while Potions are brewing," Draco pointed out. "The walls might be spattered with Hufflepuff guts when he returns. But look on the bright side; the Floo worked for you! Go get your wand and see what else you can do--"

"Sals is still missing!"

"Oh, right." Sighing, Draco dropped to his knees again and began gingerly sweeping the floor, his fingers trembling as he extended them.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Harry was the one who found her, coiled up in the corner of the bathroom, her steady breathing saying that all was well. Camouflaged, though, didn't begin to cover it. She was completely invisible.

Scooping her up, Harry carefully carried her out to the couch and held her between his palms. "Sals?" he asked, "Sals. How do you feel?"

No answer.

"Still no Parseltongue?" Draco dryly inquired as he summoned a towel, moistened it with a Hydratus spell, and fastidiously wiped his hands clean. He used a cleaning charm as well after that, and all Harry could figure was that the Slytherin boy really didn't like to get his hands dirty.

"I thought that was," Harry protested.

"English, clear as day."

"Well, I can't tell! It all sounds the same to me."

Harry drew in a deep breath. He'd thought that holding Sals' cool body would be enough to spark his Parseltongue, but apparently he needed to see a snake to make the language emerge. Well, that figured. Even when he'd opened the Chamber of Secrets, he'd had that tiny engraving of a snake to talk to. Harry concentrated, staring at his hands, trying to imagine that he could just make her out.

"Sals, say something to me," he tried.

"English," Draco informed him, banishing the towel away.

Harry squeezed his eyes closed so hard his head ached, and forced himself to focus. He imagined the Basilisk looming before him, those horrible yellow eyes ready to blind him if he looked into them, and said, "Sals, did the cricket taste funny?"

"What sort of question is that? Of course it tasted funny, it was doused in potion!"

"Shut up, Malfoy, I'm trying to concentrate." Pouring even more energy into imagining himself with a visible snake, Harry felt himself drawn back into a distant memory of the zoo. "Sssals. Can you sssee yourself, Sssals?"

He heard Draco's breath hitch, and felt Sals turning around in his hands, the motion sluggish as though she were just waking up. Her little tongue flickered out to taste him, the sensation somehow reassuring. "Where am I, Harr-eee?" Sals asked. "I sssee you, but not me..."

"It's going to be all right," Harry said. "You ate... er, a bad bug, but my father will be home soon and he'll know how to get you back to normal." I hope, Harry mentally added. "I can't sssee you either, Sals. I had a hard time finding you. If I put you in your box, would you pleassse ss stay?"

"Yesss," hissed Sals.

"No Floo," Harry sternly warned. "I mean it, Sssals."

He felt Sals nod, and gently lowered her into her box.

-----------------------------------------------------------

In the end, they didn't need a counter-potion. Before Snape even arrived home that afternoon, Sals was looking a bit more visible. "Camouflage Potion is only toxic for warm-blooded creatures," Snape explained, holding the snake and squinting until he spotted her against his hand. "Even then, it's not fatal unless you drink gallons of it."

Draco couldn't wait to break the news. "Harry called you on the Floo!"

Snape settled Sals back into her box and laid it on a low, square table. He cast a rather baleful look at Harry. "Heartening as the event may have been, you need to use more judgment about disturbing me while I am with students, Harry. Arnie Cumberbund's hand very nearly disintegrated while my back was turned."

"Severus, Harry used the Floo," Draco stressed. "It's never worked for him before!"

"I'm quite cognizant of my son's indeterminate magical state, thank you!" Snape said, rounding on Draco until the Slytherin boy flushed and glanced away. Snape returned his attention to Harry. "The Floo is to be used for emergencies only, Harry. Is that clear?"

"It was one! We couldn't find Sals anywhere, and I thought she might be poisoned and need an antidote," Harry protested, his heartbeat thudding against his ribs.