The Carriages

"Now, Miss Christina Norton," Slughorn turned to Chris, who was still transfixed at Neville. "You are gaining fame like no other at your age — except our Harry, of course. There is a lot to talk about you: The youngest writer against Rita Skeeter. . . Defensive inventions and some quite pleasing invention too — An old student of mine presented me a brilliant Perfume the other day and I was surprised to discover that it was made by a young witch who haven't reached her O.W.L.s yet." 

Slughorn beamed at Chris, who politely smiled back. Belby, McLaggen, and Zabini were all staring at her.

Slughorn turned to Harry, "'I have many Muggle-born friends and they are brilliant.' I'm assuming this is one of the very friends of whom you spoke, Harry?"

Chris surprised turned to Harry who nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Very interesting," said Slughorn looking back at Chris. "I was very curious after knowing your name, young lady, I have seen your healing jel too, as a potions maker myself I must say, you have a gift in potion-making. Yes, yes a gift." He contemplated Chris for a moment as though she was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, "Then there is the news — that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you, Harry and your few companions were there in the thick of it all! I think I have heard that you have written about the entire incident somewhere, is that right?"

"Yes, sir," said Chris politely. "In the magazine called 'The Quibbler'."

"Why not Prophet, my dear?" said Slughorn looking very amused. "I have heard rumours that they have asked for you, especially after the Ministry incident."

Chris again was surprised. Slughorn's news was true. The Prophet did want to interview Harry and Chris, for that they even tried to bribe Chris with a permanent writing position in the Prophet. But of course, she refused.

"I don't like Prophet much," said Chris quickly changing her surprised expression into a calm smile. "They often try to sell false stories."

"Yes, yes, indeed, one doesn't know quite what to believe — this fabled prophecy, for instance —" Slughorn now turned grandly to look at Harry. "Well, Harry, 'The Chosen One,' they're calling you now!"

"We never heard a prophecy," said Neville, turning geranium pink as he said it.

"That's right," said Ginny. "Neville and I were both there too, and all this 'Chosen One' rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual."

"You were both there too, were you?" said Slughorn with great interest, looking from Ginny to Neville, but both of them sat clamlike before his encouraging smile.

Harry said nothing.

"Of course," said Slughorn, watching Harry closely, "there have been rumours for years. . . . I remember when — well — after that terrible night — Lily — James — and you survived — and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary —"

Zabini gave a tiny little cough that was clearly supposed to indicate amused scepticism. Ginny angrily burst out from behind Slughorn.

"Yeah, Zabini, because you're so talented . . . at posing. . . ."

Chris hid her face before she could burst out laughing.

"Oh dear!" chuckled Slughorn comfortably, looking around at Ginny, who was glaring at Zabini around Slughorn's great belly. "You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw this young lady perform the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex as I was passing her carriage! I wouldn't cross her!"

Zabini merely looked contemptuous.

"Anyway," Slughorn turned back to Harry and continued singing praises about Harry and meandered off into a long-winded reminiscence of his old students. 

The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts. Chris could not wait to leave, but couldn't see how to do so politely. Finally, the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight.

"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Miss Norton, Blaise — any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss," he twinkled at Ginny. "Well, off you go, off you go!"

"I'm glad that's over. Strange man, isn't he?" muttered Neville as he, Chris, Ginny and Harry walked back in now-empty corridors. 

"Very strange," said Chris. "I felt like he had done research on me and everyone else. Creepy."

"Speaking of creepy," said Ginny. "McLaggen was staring you the entire time."

Chris rolled her eyes.

"How come you ended up there? Who did you hexed?" she inquired.

"Zacharias Smith," said Ginny. "You remember that idiot from Hufflepuff who was in the D.A.? He kept on and on asking about what happened at the Ministry and in the end, he annoyed me so much I hexed him — when Slughorn came in I thought I was going to get detention, but he just thought it was a really good hex and invited me to lunch!"

Chris chuckled then suddenly caught Harry's eye.

"Hey, did you really praise me when you met him the first time?"

"Yeah," said Harry shortly. "You and Hermione are brilliant, why shouldn't I say so?"

He walked ahead with Neville; Chris smiling to herself walked with Ginny.

The train soon stopped on Hogsmead station and with several students, Chris spilled out from the train. Chris, Harry, Neville and Luna followed the other students to the horseless carriages and waited there for Ginny, Colin, Ron and Hermione. But as soon as Chris looked at them she stopped and gaped at the carriage near her. The coaches were no longer horseless. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts; they were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither — vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. Standing still and quiet in the gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister.

"What are these?" Harry came beside Chris, he was staring at the horse-like creatures too.

"Thestrals," Chris breathed and extended a hand to touch the near one.

"Thestrals?" Harry repeated blankly.

But Chris was in no mood to answer him, her hands were inches apart from a Thestral and it was staring back at Chris with his white pupil-less eyes. Chris reached and touched it, the Thestral didn't look eager to Chris' touch like other creature, but a warmth spread through Chris, though the Thestral's skin was icy cold. The Thestrals were always been there, from her second year, but now by looking at them, touching them, Chris couldn't express her feelings in words. It was like they were waiting for this day and so did she. The connection between her and the Thestrals was like no other, she felt calm, happy and something beyond her understanding.

"Chris?"

Someone called and Chris felt like she had been woken from a trance. She didn't know how much time had passed, she slowly pulled her hand away and turned around. Ginny, Colin, Ron, and Harry, all were looking from Chris to the Thestral .

They all have witnessed the Thestrals first time.

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To be continued. . .