"So what is it?" Harry asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Stop talking and keep walking, will you?" Chris said as she led Harry upstairs.
Soon they reached the Black family library and Chris pushed the door opened and entered.
"A library?" Harry said looking surprised as he walked in after Chris.
"Found it before you ca here for the first ti," Chris said. "Hermione, Ginny and I had spent lots of hours here over the sumr."
"That's really nice and all but what does it have anything to do with ?" Harry asked impatiently.
"It's because of the bond, Harry," Chris suddenly faced him and he forgot to look away. "You saw that because of the bond you've with Riddle. I don't think he wanted you to see what's going on with Mr. Weasley because you were bound to warn Dumbledore, but you did it anyway. He's not possessing you, you were not the snake, trust ."
"How do you know?" Harry said, clearly trying not to believe her but he looked a little relieved.
"Harry, you've had these dreams before," Chris said. "You had flashes of what Voldemort was up to last year."
"Yeah but what if he made do it? What if he used the bond to transport to London and —"
"Thank God Hermione is not here," Chris said rolling her eyes. "Or else she would have been so disappointed in you. You can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts. Even Voldemort couldn't just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry."
"I — well, you said you will show sothing. What is it?"
"Right," Chris sat down on a chair in front of a table where few books and few sandwiches were placed. "I found it so ti ago. I really thought that was kind of weird and impossible but considering the circumstances, I think I will show you that. Maybe it will help you understand that you are not a snake."
Harry sat down beside her and looked at the books Chris was going through then absently took a sandwich from the plate.
"Here," Chris said opening a page in a big, fat, old book. "This books describes so theories about ancient magic. It says, 'In old days, the wizards and witches were born with so much power which can not be described. They were a hundred tis more powerful than new days wizards and witches. They could even bring back people from death."
"But Dumbledore said —" Harry interrupted.
"That no magic can bring people back from death," said Chris. "I know, but I think they were talking about people who were almost dead, maybe the wizards used so healing potion or sothing to cure them from their deadly diseases or sothing like that. It's not unheard of. Anyway, let continue, the actual fun part is here, listen closely 'whenever a wizard's magic had spare life in a being, it had created a bond between the wizard and the being. The intensity of the magic between them decided how strong the bond was going to be. A weaker bond didn't affect them at all, but if the bond was a little stronger then they would have felt that sothing was wrong with the other whenever they were in danger, and a stronger bond let them know how the other was feeling, however, the strongest bond could have given the ability to travel in each other's mind.'"
For a few minutes, Harry just stared at the book then at Chris but finally, he spoke,
"But Voldemort didn't try to spare my life —"
"But accidentally he did spare your life, didn't he?"
Again, a few minutes of silence.
"But wait if that's the case then he can co to mind too? It is possible," Harry said looking terrified.
"Yes he could," Chris sighed. "But I'm sure Dumbledore will find a way to fix it."
"Dumbledore. Right," Harry said looking angry suddenly. "He didn't even bother to talk to . Not even after all this."
"Harry, I've told you he has his reasons — "
"Dumbledore — " Harry choked.
"What?" Chris raised an eyebrow.
"I haven't told you why I was so sure, I was the snake, sothing that doesn't add up with your theory," Harry gulped, almost afraid to say the next words. "Back in Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey . . . for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake, I felt like one — my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore — I wanted to attack him —"
"You answered your own question Harry," Chris said calmly. "Your scar had hurt at that ti. The magical bond among you, the scar."
"So you think I felt that because Voldemort was angry at Dumbledore or he wanted to kill him?"
"Maybe. That's all my guess."
"But what if he made attack people like Dumbledore again?"
"Do you really think you can fight with Dumbledore and harm him?" Chris almost laughed.
This made Harry smile.
"No," he said. "I can't."
"Dumbledore will find a way, Harry, don't worry," Chris said. "And I'm already working on it. Also, there is sothing else I know but you don't."
"I don't know loads of things," Harry gave a bitter smile.
"The weapon Riddle is seeking. . . it's not a weapon actually."
"You even know that?" Harry almost shouted in shock.
"Yeah," Chris sighed. "It's a. . . prophecy."
"A prophecy?"
"A prophecy about you and Riddle. The prophecy is the reason He went to kill you when you were a baby. I don't know what the actual prophecy is, only Dumbledore does."
A long silence.
"That — that — Chris — you're — you're not lying, are you?" Harry said with a trembling voice.
Chris shook her head.
"I'm sorry, I should have told you —"
"Do you think Dumbledore will tell what the prophecy says if I ask him?" Harry muttered looking at a random bookshelf. "No — of course, he wouldn't. If Voldemort is after it then — then he will hear it through . If I hear it he will know, — no — I can't hear it. But what these an for ? What I've to do? I —"
"Harry. Harry. Harry." Chris gripped Harry's shoulders tightly and forced him to look at her. "We will figure it out. Rember Malgino is still with him which ans I'm with you in this. I don't even know half of the things about my situation with Malgino, but I know we will figure it out. We will help each other, our friends will help us, the Order will help us, Dumbledore will."
Harry stared at Chris for at least five minutes, Chris didn't speak, then he sighed.
"I just hope you're right," he said.
"I hope that too," she said.
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To be continued. . .
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