Harry Potter and the Last Phoenix

2007-01-18T05:46:00.000-08:00

by Kat Norris

Chapter One: "Goodbyes"

The journey back to London on the Hogwarts Express was a solemn and quiet one. The train was less than half-full, most of the students going home with their parents even before Dumbledore’s funeral. Some did stay for the service, but went home with family members. Harry, Ron and Hermione had a compartment all to themselves. Neville had left with his grandmother, and Luna with her father, both of whom had attended the funeral.

Augusta Longbottom had taken Harry aside and asked if there were anything she could do to help Harry. "I know from Neville that you have a difficult path ahead of you. If there is anything, anything, that I can do to help, please don't hesitate. Neville, of course, is eager to lend his assistance."

Harry knew that was true from the look on Neville's face. He had a strange kind of anxious, elated glow and Harry knew that he would not hesitate to help.

"I have my Galleon," he said and held out his hand to show that he indeed had the enchanted gold coin that they had used in the days of the DA. "I’ll keep it with me always. Just call and I can come. After July 30th, I’ll be able to apparate, anywhere."

Harry thanked them with a slight catch in his voice. He was touched that they were willing to risk their lives for him, without question.

Ginny had held back from his side, but was only steps away as he made his way through the crowd at Hogsmeade Station. He wanted to draw her back to him, to keep her there as long as he could, but they both knew the break could not be postponed. He turned to look at her from time to time, as if to reassure himself that she had not left him yet.

Ron had decided that even though most of his family was going home together, he would stay and travel on the Hogwarts Express one last time with his best friends. Hermione sat stiffly beside him in her seat, a frozen half-smile on her face. Harry knew that it was difficult for her to give up her last year at Hogwarts. Harry stared out of the window as the train passed the miles toward London. He had this brief reprieve before he must face the tasks ahead of him. First, the Dursleys.

Ron and Hermione had said they would go with him and he couldn't help smiling at the thought of the three wizards against the three Muggle Dursleys. They really need fear nothing from them. Fred and George would have been a problem, but Ron and Hermione were above the kind of hijinks that the twins would have been unable to resist. Hermione would be the perfect Muggle guest and Ron would be polite, as long as Dudley behaved himself. He wasn't sure about the Dursleys. Would they behave as good hosts or would their wizard-phobia prompt them into rudeness? Well, they wouldn't be staying long and then he would be shut of them forever. He had no regrets and would not be looking back once he was gone.

Harry dozed for a while, the train's subtle rocking acting as a sedative on his nerves. If only the train were going the other way...

"Harry?" Hermione shook his shoulder. "We’re in London."

Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Already?" he mumbled.

"You’ve been asleep for three hours. We thought you needed the rest, so we didn't wake you," she said as she was pulling her trunk out into the aisle. "Ron put your trunk out already." She raised her wand and the trunk lifted up off the floor as she directed it out of the door. "Come on, sleepyhead, time to face the Muggles," she grinned as she started toward the exit.

"Yeah, right." Harry straightened his shirt and, picking up Hedwig's cage, followed her. Vernon and Petunia were waiting nervously outside the barrier between platforms nine and ten, as usual. Harry walked up to them with his trunk.

"My friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger," he introduced a bit formally and they both politely held out their hands. Vernon and Petunia looked like they would rather clutch a dead fish than the hands of the two teenagers, but nevertheless, they took them politely as well.

"They're going to be coming with us to stay for a few days," he said firmly, to allow no room for objections. Vernon blanched.

"Uh, oh, yes... well then... " he sputtered, but then was silent. After a moment, he turned and walked with Petunia towards the exit. Once outside, he opened the boot of the car, but didn't offer any assistance with the luggage. He sneered briefly at Hedwig and Pigwidgeon's cages and ignored Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. The car was a bit crowded with the trio in the back seat with cages and a cat, but Crookshanks curled up on Hermione's lap in an orange furball and Hedwig and Pig slept with their heads tucked down.

"Where's Dudley?" Harry was grateful that the massive "Big D" was not with them. There would certainly not have been enough room for all of them. He had considered using a cab to get home if it had been necessary.

"He’s... away." Petunia had a strangely pinched look and didn't turn around when she spoke. Harry was about to ask where, when Vernon turned toward him with an odd, pitiful look on his face, a look that Harry knew he'd never seen before, and it almost frightened him.

"Oh."

Petunia cleared her throat and pasted on an odd smile. "Your... friend... can use Dudley's room. I'll get out the rollaway cot for your room." She still didn't turn to look at them.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, having imagined being put back in the cupboard under the stairs for lack of space. Not that he would have fit there anymore. "Okay, that's good," he said.

When they were done settling into their respective rooms, Hermione observed that the Muggles didn't seem as bad as she had thought they would be.

"Yeah, you're right." Ron fluffed the pillow on his cot, having insisted that Harry sleep in his own bed.

"There's something wrong," said Harry. "They're too polite. They haven't insulted me once."

At dinner, the Dursleys continued their stiff politeness to Harry and his friends and Harry grew increasingly edgy. He helped Petunia clear the table and when they were alone in the kitchen, he asked her again about Dudley.

"He's... away," she said stiffly.

"With friends?"

"Oh... you might say that." She sniffed and turned away from Harry.

"What's happened?" he said softly.

"He... uh... got caught with some things he shouldn't have had." She took several deep breaths before going on. "He's in a... rehab center. He was taking drugs... and st... stea... taking things... to buy them."

Harry was silent.

"I feel like such a... f... f... failure! How could this happen to us?" She sobbed into a handful of wadded tissues that she pulled out of her pocket.

Harry had the impression that Dumbledore had been right about Dudley being abused. He could have told them that Dudley was headed down a bad road, but at the moment, he only reached out and hugged his aunt, patting her gently on the back.

"Oh, Harry!" she sobbed into his shoulder. After a few minutes Petunia got a hold on herself and dried her eyes. "Harry, please, don't say anything to your friends... I'd be mortified if they knew. What would they think of us?"

Harry fought to hide a smile at the irony of Petunia worrying what a pair of wizards thought of her family. "No, of course not." He patted her shoulder and slipped back to the dining room, leaving her to repair her face and composure.

Later, the three went out to walk in the fresh air before it got dark.

"So, what's up with the Muggles?" Ron asked.

Harry recounted the trials of his cousin and family, while Ron snickered.

"Really, Ron!" Hermione chided him. "It's no laughing matter. They must be so embarrassed! But, then, from what you've told us, Harry, it's not really a surprise."

"Not to me. I could see where Dud was headed ages ago, but to see it now..." He shook his head. They walked along in silence for a while. Harry was restless, but hated to bring up their future plans. He had hoped for a respite before he set out on his search, but he knew he could not rest until he did what he had to do.

"When do we leave?" asked Hermione after the long silence. "Would tomorrow be too soon?"

Ron let out a sigh, "I thought it was just me, but I want to get on with it."

"Yeah, me too," breathed Hermione.

Harry was relieved, "You're both sure you want to come with me? Because I wouldn't mind..."

"Go on, mate! After all this time together? No way!"

"Of course we want to help you, Harry! Like Ron said, we've been through so much, we can't quit now."

Harry looked them both in the eye and was satisfied. "I couldn't ask for better friends," he said, "or better helpers. I think I'm going to need you more than you know."

____________________________________________

Chapter Two: "At Home In The Burrow"

The weeks spent at the Burrow seemed to fly by as Harry, Ron, and Hermione held brainstorming sessions, plotting and planning what they needed to do to find Voldemort's horcruxes. On days when the sun was shining, they went to the hilltop field where the Weasley's played Quidditch. It was wide open,ringed with trees, and they could see anyone approaching long before they were seen themselves. Nevertheless, they would cast a muffliato spell to keep any snooping ears from hearing their conversations. On days that were rainy, they retreated to Ron's bedroom on the top floor of the Burrow. And though they all seemed to feel the urgency of their plans, still they needed rest and relaxation too. Harry felt the most relaxed and free of worry when he was on his Firebolt flying. He and Ron would play one-on-one Quidditch, while Hermione sat under her favorite tree reading. Harry and Ron would take turns trying to get past each other with a quaffle.

It was on a day when they were playing that Harry came to a realization. Ron's Cleansweep was a good enough broom for backyard Quidditch and even for playing Keeper at school, but, one-on-one, it was no match for anyone on a Firebolt. They had been trading brooms at times, trying to make the game fairer, but even Harry's skill at flying was not enough to keep up with anyone else on the Firebolt.

"You need a better broom," Harry said as they came down to the ground after a tiring session of trying to get around Ron on the Firebolt. Ron stared at him and then looked down, scuffing his toe against the ground.

"Yeah," he said, "you don't have to tell me my broom's rubbish. But it's all I've..."

"No," interrupted Harry, "I mean, you need a Firebolt."

"Don’t I wish!" Ron huffed.

"I mean, we need to get you one." Harry looked at him and grinned broadly. Ron looked back, confused. "And how do we do that?"

"I’ll buy you one."

"No! Harry, thanks, but I can't let you..."

"Wait, Ron! Hear me out!" He took a breath and explained, "I think there might be times when we need to travel without anyone knowing and we'll both need good brooms. My Firebolt will be worthless if I have to wait for you on your slower broom. So, I see it as an investment for the cause to buy you your own Firebolt."

He looked at Ron, who stood with his mouth open not knowing what to say. Then his expression turned to one of awe. "Whoa! Harry, are you sure?" Ron looked as if he was afraid Harry would change his mind.

"Well, don't you think I'm right, that you'll need one? It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does. That's what worries me."

"So, do you think Hermione should have one, too?" Harry smiled.

Ron smirked, "You know Hermione hates to fly! But, really, she should have one, too."

"Well, let's go find her and tell her the good news!"

They found Hermione in the kitchen baking cookies with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. "Well, yes, I see your logic, but..." she said after Harry had explained their plan. "Ron should have a good broom... but..."

"I know you hate to fly, Hermione, but we might need to travel alone and we need for you to be able to keep up."

Hermione sighed. She knew he was right, but still didn't like it. "Okay, I'll send an owl post to Quality Quidditch Supplies."

"Thanks Hermione."

- - -

The day before the wedding was cloudy and Molly and Fleur were increasingly edgy, snapping at anyone who dared come near them. "Eet will rain, I am sure!" said Fleur, before breaking down into a fit of tears late in the afternoon. The men in the house retreated outside, while the women gathered around to comfort the nervous bride.

The next day dawned bright and fair, however, and there was not a cloud in sight. Fleur's edginess was somewhat relieved, but Molly's was not. She flew around the house ordering everyone to go here or there, to do this or that, or just to get out of the way. Harry and Ron dressed in their fancy dress robes and Ron's mood was good, since his robes were new and not maroon. Fleur had insisted that the attendants be dressed in shades of blue and green.

"Maroon ees just not a good color to wear weeth red hair," she said at Molly's suggestion that Ron wear his least favorite color. Molly had to admit that Fleur was right when Ron came into the kitchen in his new dark blue robes. Hermione, standing by the sink in her robe and slippers, gasped. "Wow!" she said and then she blushed. Ron stood taller and then bowed before her.

"Would milady care for an escort to the ball?" He smiled and held out his hand. Hermione took it and did a curtsey. "I'm really not dressed for it yet, but if milord will call for me later, I would welcome his escort." She and Ginny withdrew upstairs in a fit of girlish giggles. Harry looked dapper as well in his the bottle-green robes that Mrs. Weasley had bought for him three years ago for the Yule Ball at Hogwarts.

The two escaped the hubbub of the house to walk out into the garden. The ceremony was to take place in a specially built gazebo in the grassy field behind the house. They sat in chairs set up for guests and Ron leaned back, his hands laced behind his head. He wore a look of great satisfaction. "Do you reckon I did it right this time?" he asked. "Asking Hermione, I mean?"

"I think you did, mate," Harry grinned. Just then he caught sight of Ginny, coming out into the garden, dressed in her wedding clothes. She wore a dress of pale blue organza with satin piping. A small matching hat rested on her head like a butterfly. It was Harry’s turn to say "Wow." His heart leapt into his throat and for a few seconds, he forgot to breathe. She turned toward him briefly before turning to go back into the house. He wondered if she had seen him sitting there and felt a pang at the thought. He had mixed feelings about Ginny. One part of him said he was right to break off their relationship, in order to protect her . He did not want Voldemort and the Death Eaters to have a weapon to use against him. If they did not know about his love for her, they could not use her to harm him. But the other part of him said he needed her by his side, where he could protect her, where he could draw strength from her love. He was drawn out of his reverie by Ron's voice.

"Harry!"

"What?"

"Where were you just now? You didn't hear me talking to you?" He laughed. "Ginny?"

"Yeah."

"Can I give you my personal opinion, Mate?"

"Yeah?"

"I think your intentions are right, but I think in the long run, you're wrong to break up with her." He laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Just my opinion, though."

"Thanks...I guess," he sighed. "Sometimes I wonder..."

"It's not too late, you know."

Harry did not answer.

The wedding was beautiful and Bill and Fleur were a radiant couple. Despite the fresh scars on his face, Bill looked handsome in his black robes. Fleur's white satin robes with lace ruffles and pearl buttons were the envy of all of the women. Harry had hoped to spend time with Ron so that he wouldn't have to think about Ginny, but Ron went off hand in hand with Hermione and they were nowhere to be seen.

He spent time talking with several wizards from Belgium, who spoke heavily accented English, but were anxious to talk to Harry about Hogwarts. He escaped them after half an hour of questions about wizarding education in Britain and how it compared with European methods. He finally got away from the crowd and made his way up to the Quidditch field. He sat down under their favorite tree and closed his eyes. It was nice to have quiet after all of the din of the wedding. The bees buzzed around him and he started to doze.

"I thought you'd be up here," said Ginny. "I won't ask if you mind if I join you, I'm going to anyway." She sat down beside him, carefully arranging her dress.

"I... I don't mind, I guess."

"We need to talk," she said bluntly. The look in her eyes was startling.

"Uh... sure," he hardly dared to refuse.

"I really understand why you think you need to protect me, but you need to hear my side."

"Ginny..."

"No, Harry. I've let you think you know what's best for me, but I need to tell you what I think is best for you."

"Me?" Harry started.

"Yes, you." She took a breath before she continued. "Did you ever stop to think that your worrying about me can be harmful to you? If you don't know that I'm safe, you will be distracted when you really need to focus on what you are doing." Ginny laid a hand on Harry's cheek. "If I'm with you, you won't have to wonder if I'm safe. You'll know."

"With me? But Ginny, even so, you can't come with me."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" Harry stared at her.

"Yes, why not? Ron and Hermione are going with you."

"But, that's different..."

"No, it's not. They are a couple and you're letting them both go with you."

"Ron and... a couple?"

"Well, yeah, haven't you noticed? Glued together all afternoon, though it's been coming for a long time. Took him long enough."

"You mean they finally...?" Harry smiled.

"Yup, and about time."

"Yeah, that's true."

"But, about us..."

"Ginny... No."

"Yes! You aren't going to get rid of me so easily! I don't want you going off on your own where I can't keep an eye on you! I won't!" Ginny crossed her arms and had a fierce look on her face that made Harry flinch. It reminded him of Molly Weasley on one of her tirades and he had hoped he would never have to be the recipient of one of those looks. Harry sighed. He felt like he had lost the battle, but still he had not really lost.

"Harry..." her fierce look melted. "Please don't leave me behind!" She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed. He held her and it was as if they had never parted. He realized that he did need her. He needed her with him.

"All right, don't cry," he said as he patted her shoulder awkwardly. She wiped her face and he kissed her.

"Thank you, Harry. I didn't know what I'd do if you'd said no."

"Well, when you look at me like your mother does when she's mad," he winced, "how could I refuse?"

Ginny laughed, "I know that look, I've seen it often enough!"

"Well, you know I love your mother, but when she gets that look...!" he shuddered.

"Yeah, well, I'll try not to use it too often," she winked and then kissed him. "We need to get back to the crowd. They've been wondering where you were," she said as she took his hand and led him back down the hill.

Harry Potter and the Big Surprise

2007-01-18T05:39:00.000-08:00

by Christina Torma
A fan-fiction based on ideas from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Chapter 1: The Other Minister

Mr. Prinister sat in his office late at night, reading over some rather boring reports. He was troubled by the nature of content he was forced to read over and over. Head Detective in London, Mr. Prinister had dealt with some very funny deaths this week, as well as a number of other strange occurrances. He was inclined to blame the magical world... if only other people believed it existed. He was one of the few non-magical people (muggles) who knew of the other world. He was expecting an announcement from the portrait in the corner any minute that the head of the auror office (a kind of wizard detective) would be coming to visit. This was no ordinary portrait indeed. Besides being magical, it depicted a huge room with many other portraits, strange instruments on spindly little tables and many other odd acoutrements. It was constantly changing, sometimes being occupied by a tall man with long white hair and beard and sometimes with many other people and he was always having to explain to the scarce visitors of his office that it was simply a different painting every time. Thus, one of the reasons visitors didn't frequent his office.

As expected, The tall man with white hair announced that the Head of the Auror Office would like to request a meeting immediately. Mr. Prinister accepted gratefully, eager for an explanation of all this funny stuff. Mr. Rufus Scrimgeour (whom he referred to as "The Other Minister" in his head) revolved in the emerald flames that promptly erupted in Mr. Prinister's large brick fireplace. Mr. Prinister was quite used to this and didn't even flinch, but rather gathered up a couple of glasses and a large bottle of brandy and proceeded to pour snifters and place them on the tea table in the corner. He sat in one of the large armchairs at the table and beckoned the man with a mane of grey hair over to the other. Scrimgeour brushed soot off his robes, waved his wand at the keyhole of the door and the already closed curtains at the windows and sat in the afformentioned chair. He lifted the brandy glass to his lips and took a sip, savoring the liquid. "You know, Prinister, I should bring some firewhiskey along next time I visit. Much more satisfying than brandy, I dare say." Prinister looked inquisitive, "Please do, it sounds intriguing, this firewhiskey." Scrimgeour lowered his snifter and fell silent for a moment, looking troubled. "I'm afraid I come with some good news and some trifling. The good news is, I've been made Minister of Magic, succeeding that useless prat Cornelious Fudge. The bad news is, Voldemort is at large once again and we're having quite a time trying to find and destroy him." Prinister uttered a sigh of understanding, "So that's what all this funny business is about, I knew it! Congratulations, by the way, on the promotion." Scrimgeour laughed, "I knew you had some idea, my clever old friend." "What about this weird mist? I still can't figure out what could cause chilly mist in the middle of August." Scrimgeour's smile faded, "It's the dementors, the guards of the wizard prison Azkaban. They're breeding."

"Well, I came to warn you to be alert. I've replaced your partner (who was under the control of Voldemort, by the way, and plotting to kill me the second I entered your office) with Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of our best aurors. You must not try to use his magic to your advantage for you know the rules about the use of magic in front of Muggles, Prinister." He said this at the look of delight on Prinister's face. Scrimgeour continued, "Shackelbolt will provide you with the extra protection you need, seeing as you know too much. Your old partner was sent to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and will return to Muggle society once he is safe to be around himself and others." Prinister turned to the the newly instated Minister with an inquisitive look, "How is it that you, an especially powerful wizard, or maybe Dumbledore or someone, can't simply make it all go away with a wave of your wand. You can do magic, can't that solve anything?" "The trouble is," said Scrimgeour, "the other side can do magic too." With that, he pulled a small pouch from his robes and pulled out a bit of shimmering powder, throwing it into the flames at the fireplace and turning them emerald green. "Goodbye old friend, be careful." Then, he jumped into the fire and was gone.

PA Library Fanfiction

Harry Potter and the Last Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Big Surprise