Waking up in the middle of the night,
It took Harry a minute to make sure where he was: the dark curtains, the dull grey of the bed, and the dark,
It couldn't be the Hogwarts, and it couldn't be Dumbledore's house.
Harry remembered dully that this was Snape's house.
Without turning on the bedside lamp, Harry sat up, panting. The scar on his forehead was still throbbing.
Probably because of the nightmare just now, some emotions related to screaming and despair were still stuck in his chest,
Bringing a faint sense of suffocation. After calming down slightly,
Harry sat up against the reflection of the snow outside the window,
Barefoot, he walked across the cold floor to his unopened suitcase. He reached out and took out a small medicine bottle from a hidden compartment,
And poured out two triazolam tablets in his hand. Just as he was about to swallow the tablets,
The ink-black glass ball with strange patterns rolled out from the pile of clothes,
So Harry paused for a moment and reached out to pick up the glass ball,
But the moment he bent down, he suddenly saw something strange.
He held the glass ball in the air,
Harry then realized that it wasn't actually black. In the moonlight, it appeared to be a turbid ink-blue.
When he shook it gently, he could see the flow of color,
Just like the night in Van Gogh's eyes,
And those things that Harry thought were patterns gently peeled off from the inside of the ball, then stretched and transformed... They were some golden letters that gradually took shape under the boy's surprised gaze.
After a moment of shock, Harry got up from the floor and took out his magic address book from the opened suitcase. He skipped the Christmas greetings on the first few pages and directly found the person he wanted to contact. He hurriedly sent a message: S-level situation, reply quickly.
Soon, the other party replied: Picnic?
Harry quickly gave an affirmative answer and then deleted the record in the address book. The Phantom disappeared from the room.
Of course, he wasn't going for a friendly picnic, but last summer, when he was living in the Burrow, Weisles and Lovegood held two simple picnics on a lawn between the two houses. When Harry appeared, Kamia, dressed in black, was already waiting there. Her short white hair and indifferent expression made Harry instantly think of her as Jia Mei.
Harry frowned. He felt that the current Kamia was becoming more and more like the Jia Mei he knew, except that she was older.
"What's the matter?" Kamia saw Harry in a daze and reminded him with her arms crossed.
Her tone was similar too. But they were the same person, weren't they? Harry shook his head and threw away all the messy thoughts. Then he handed the glass ball to Kami and motioned for her to observe it herself. "There is a message in it."
Kamia soon discovered the mystery of the glass ball, and her expression changed. "The end of the world is coming?"
"And '1994'," Harry added.
Kamia's expression changed a few times. She asked, "Who gave this to you?"
Harry smiled bitterly and counted with his fingers. "Dumbledore, Inigo Inmag, Nick Lemay... and probably Bashida Basart and Paddy Fenlin."
"Paddy Fenlin?"
"Yes, he has another name, Beedu." Harry briefly explained his understanding of Paddy Fenlin and his sudden departure.
Kamia listened to Harry's plain description in silence. When he finished, she chuckled and lowered her head to spin the glass ball in her hand, mixing the letters together. "So, this is what Beedu said, the cry for help of the world? The end of the world is coming? "
Harry was silent for a moment and asked, "You have a hunch?"
Kamia looked at the Otter River, which was covered with a thin layer of ice. Harry could only see half of her face in the shadow of her hat. The only thing visible was her pale lips, which were very thin and always curled in a mocking smile.
"That rain, Harry, it's that rain," she finally said.
Rain. Many rains flashed through Harry's mind: the downpour of Magondo, the cold November rain, the bloody rain that washed over the battlefield... Finally, he fished out a rainstorm that lasted for half a month from the depths of his memory. At the same time, he was secretly shocked that he had forgotten it.
"You don't remember it, do you?" Kamia asked with a sneer. Seeing Harry's surprise and doubt, she continued, "You are not the only one who has forgotten it. Even I... almost forgot it. Or rather, it's not that I forgot it, but I don't want to remember it at all. Tell me, when you remember that rain, what is the most profound feeling you have? "
"... Fear." Harry opened his mouth for a long time, but in the end, he spat out the word.
The mocking smile flashed across Kamia's lips again. "Yes... fear, then where does this fear come from? What is watching us from beyond our sight? What is lurking in the shadows? What is causing my soul to fail? Harry, Potter — do you know? "
Kamia said Harry's name word by word, making the boy shudder and unable to speak.
It was the questioner himself who continued the sentence. Kamia looked further into the darkness of the plains. "Nihon... the Lord of the Void Border, he has also come to this world."
Harry's first reaction was that this could not be true! He subconsciously retorted, "This is impossible! Kamia, this is my... "
"This is not your world!" Kamia turned her head, stared coldly into the boy's eyes, and repeated, "Harry Potter, this is no longer your world." After a pause, a strange smile appeared on her pale face. "Do you remember? I asked you, if this is your world, why are there so many stories that you have never heard of? "
"Because..." Harry broke out in a cold sweat. "Because of the collapse of the Tower of Babel."
Kamia nodded stiffly, and then continued to look at the frozen river. "After the collapse of the library, all the stories lost their homes and were exiled to this world. So, Harry, this is not your story. This is the ruins of the Babel Library. We are standing in the ruins, and Nihon is planning the end of the world."
"No, no, it's not like this..." Harry touched his throat, but he could not make a sound. After a long time, he squeezed out a sentence. "Are you sure you have destroyed all the soul tools?"
Kamia, who was also confused, did not know the purpose of Harry's question. She looked at him suspiciously and said, "On the day you recovered your memory, I said that all the soul tools were destroyed. Some of them were destroyed in front of me by Dumbledore, and the other part was used to create Tommy."
"Tommy!" Harry frowned. "Is there anything wrong with Tommy?"
Kamia did not answer. Instead, she thought for a moment and asked seriously, "What happened?"
Harry bit his lower lip. After a long time, he exhaled a cloud of white smoke and replied, "I started to dream again. And my scar started to hurt again. "
This time, it was Kamia's turn to be in disbelief. "What did you dream of?"
Harry answered briefly, "Screams and some emotions, but nothing specific."
Kamia did not doubt the authenticity of Harry's words. Although she did not think that the boy would not hold back from her, she was also very sure that she had destroyed all the soul tools. Therefore, the two of them were in a deadlock.
"Dumbledore can be trusted." The two of them reached an agreement. "Besides, he also gave me this information." Harry decided to put aside the confirmation of "Voldemort's" survival for the time being. "Then, what does 1994 mean?"
"It's about the time," Kamia said. "Just like 2012, there is always a countdown to the arrival of the apocalypse."
Harry did not comment. "So, I can live for another two years? This is really the shortest life I've ever lived. "
Kamia was not worried about whether Harry would die young or not. Instead, she adopted the tone of a professor. "Use your brain, Harry. This year must have its meaning. First, Marvel sent a group of people to cross the sea. Then, the Old Bee gathered a bunch of big shots to show their abilities. Harry, I think something is happening. And it's not far from us. "
"1994..." Harry recalled what had happened that year: the reappearance of the Mark of the Dark Demon, the trifecta, Cedric... Mandela's election as the President of South Africa, Kenzaburo Oe's Nobel Prize in Literature, Côte Coburn's suicide — it was close to the end of the world!
Kamia's sense of time was vague, so she could not think of anything at the moment. She took out her wand from her sleeve and said, "I have to look at your memory for the past few days. Do you want me to take your soul or do you want to find a meditation basin?"
Harry was not so confident about the safety of the meditation basin — after he had seen many people's memories, he was still worried about letting Kamia take his soul. After weighing the two options, Harry chose the third option.
He walked to the river and broke a small piece of ice with his wand. Then, he carefully extracted some of his memories — some silver liquid. He dripped it into the cold river, and the silver rippled into a mirror. Kamia put her wand in, and then Harry's memories quickly flashed through her mind: Bashida's Christmas pudding, the song on Christmas Eve, Paddy Fenlin's Gone With the Wind...
The flowing river under the ice quickly broke through the mirror. At this time, Harry's memories had been integrated into Kamia's mind, and she could check them repeatedly in the days to come.
"Cunning boy." Kamia snorted, and the Phantom went home, leaving Harry facing the ice hole, not knowing whether to jump in or fill it. Finally, a cool wind blew, and the boy sneezed. The Phantom also went away.
Although Harry was no longer sleepy when he returned to his original place, he still wanted to roll back into bed to warm up. However, before he could touch the pillow, he was hit by a Petrification Spell.
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