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After breakfast, I changed into jeans and a T-shirt, threw my bag over my shoulder, and, taking my jacket just in case, went to the house at Grimmauld Place.
After a chat about the weather with Lady Walburga and a cup of tea, carefully prepared by Kricher, we moved on to more pressing matters.
"So, Maximilian," said Walburga, taking a few puffs. "It's summer, vacation, and I'm curious - what are you planning to do?"
"At all, or in the near future?"
"Both questions."
"I'm thinking of doing my homework for the summer. Last time I managed to procrastinate until last, which resulted in a mad rush in the last few days of August."
"That's a pretty reasonable thing to do. However, I'd like to make some adjustments to your plans."
I just raised an eyebrow inquiringly, parodying one potion maker.
"If you're planning on taking a kin, and I dare hope you are, then you should throw your efforts into finding the ring."
"What is the reason for such a rush? Well, besides your desire to get a Head sooner."
Walburga smiled.
"Finding a Head for the House is indeed important, and it would calm the unrest in my old drawn heart, but the reason here is somewhat different. Kreacher!"
A clap sounded as usual from my side.
"Kreacher has appeared, Mistress."
The old house-elf bowed deeply, as usual, one hand gripping his back.
"Kreacher, tell Maximilian what you told me."
Kreacher slowly turned his head toward me as if parodying various monsters from horror movies.
"The unusual young guest of the noble and most ancient House of Black," the house-elf said, without a stutter, in a steady but still squeaky voice, "has begun to change his magic. Old Kreacher can feel it."
The house-elf began to run his fingers over his hands.
"The magic is slowly changing, without stopping," Kreacher suddenly turned toward the portrait. "Mistress Walburga! The guest looks less and less like Mistress Narcissa..."
To say I was shocked is nothing to say.
"How much?"
"Not much at all," the house-elf shook his head. "Very little, yes. But he's changing."
"You can go, Kreacher," said Walburga sternly, and the house-elf bowed and disappeared.
I was pensively silent, and Walburga looked at me, taking one puff after another.
"I honestly don't care," she spoke, putting her cigarette mouthpiece aside on the table, "how you triggered the changes in your magic. The main problem is that if those changes go too far, the ring won't accept you. But, if you get the ring first, then further changes won't matter as long as your magic resembles the reference magic even slightly."
My head was spinning with thoughts and obvious guesses as to the reasons for such an interesting change.
"Is it possible to conjure here?"
"This is the ancestral home of wizards, Maximilian. The possibility of witchcraft here without fear is obvious."
I took my wand from the holster on my forearm and immediately waved it.
"Serpensortia."
The tip of the wand flashed faintly, and a small serpent flew from it. It landed on the floor, looking around in displeasure as it coiled itself into rings. Walburga did not hide her interest in what was happening and even made herself comfortable in her drawn chair.
The snake spotted me, tasting the air for a scent with her tongue.
"Two-legged-s-s," she hissed, which caused my inexpressible shock. "Cancel-s-s-s the spell-s... I'll bite you-s-s."
"What a twist!" I marveled and focused all my attention on the snake. "Do you understand me?"
"Parselmouth-s-s-s?" the snake lifted off the ground, looking at me carefully.
"Fuck it! Viper Evanesco," a colorless blob rushed from the tip of my wand into the snake, burning it out of reality, canceling the summon.
"Very curious, Maximilian," Walburga smiled familiarly in the portrait. Like a predator. "Does this young man wish to tell the old lady something very interesting?"
"Frankly," I turned to the portrait. "Not really. I'm not ready to share such secrets yet."
"It doesn't sound like it has anything to do with your background. The Blacks never crossed paths with Gonts or any other Serpent-tongue carriers. So it's an acquired ability."
She exchanged her predatory grin for a friendly smile.
"I look forward, nephew when you are finally ripe to regale the old lady with an interesting story."
"Undoubtedly..."
I have already plunged into my thoughts, reflecting on the far-from-easy possibilities of my sword. Apparently, somehow, the absorption of the basilisk's soul had affected my magic, also adding this interesting ability. I wonder if it's the change in magic or the soul that's affecting it. If the Spirit Weapon is part of me and absorbed the basilisk's soul, then the merger occurred? Another question is if the merging of souls results in a change in body magic, then is magic a purely physiological product, or is it still somehow dependent on the soul?
I was reminded of Voldemort's resurrection ritual. He used his father's bone, his enemy's blood, and his servant's flesh. His father was a Muggle. Consequently, there was no way he could be genetically either a wizard or a parselmouth. Nor was Pettigrew a parselmouth. Potter was a parselmouth, but if Dumbledore's canonical conclusions are to be believed, the reason for that is the Horcrux in his forehead. A Horcrux is a fragment of the soul that carries no organics. Consequently, the ability to speak to snakes is transmitted in a "spiritual" way. Does a Horcrux affect Potter's magic? Unknown. There's a reason Voldemort's twin wand fit him. Hmm. It turns out that magic is not a purely physiological product but also depends on the soul. But according to Walburga, my magic until recently was completely equal to Narcissa's. Almost completely...