The Journey of the Phoenix

-Chapter 4: Risks taken-

The table had been set in the garden. The kitchen, while big enough to host the Order briefings - the dinner table removed, of course - did not offer enough room for twelve people to dine comfortably. Thankfully, the weather was good, Molly reflected, lighting the candles.

She took an overall glance at the table and, satisfied, returned to the sitting room. Arthur was engaged in a conversation with Remus, Kingsley and Moody, who had only arrived minutes earlier. Ron was obviously pleading with the twins to give them one of their tricks or other for free. As for Ginny, she wasn't there; probably in her bedroom, still getting dressed.

Someone knocked three times on the door. Ron hurried to open. It was Tonks.

"Ron, what have I told you?" Arthur called to his youngest son. "Never open the door without asking who it is first!"

Ron shrugged. "Sorry, I forgot. But it's only Tonks."

She was standing on the doorstep. "Hi, Ron, Arthur..." Her timid smile faltered at the sight of Remus. "...everyone..."

Everyone greeted and waved at her, except for Remus, who preferred to simply stare at her. Half-heartedly, she walked into the room and went to greet Ginny, who was just coming down the stairs.

-----

Don't read more in it than there is, he repeated to himself several times. She's a friend of them just like you. That's the only reason she's here. Get a grip!

Still, he couldn't stop staring at her, while she talked to Ginny. She didn't seem to be in a particularly good mood; her smile was forced and her eyes melancholic. He would love to go near her, hug her, comfort her... love her... and be loved by her...

Get a grip, he repeated. It was ridiculous to think he could be in love with her. Sure, he found her interesting, attractive, even, but that wasn't love. It was just... a false alarm. An illusion.

"Remus?"

He blinked at the sound of his name.

"What's wrong?" Arthur was asking.

"Oh, nothing. I just... thought I saw a Patronus appearing. But I was wrong. So, you were saying?"

-----

Molly watched the scene for a minute, then decided to join the girls' chat. As she was approaching, Tonks shot her a look of death.

"You should not have invited me," she mouthed angrily.

The tense situation between the two did not escape Ginny. "Why not?" she demanded.

Molly preferred to let Tonks get herself out of the difficult situation.

"Because..." The younger woman sighed, trying to find a good excuse. "I'm not in the mood for socialising lately, and your mother knows it." Despite her friendly tone, her eyes revealed her annoyance when she looked back at Molly.

"Don't be silly," Ginny scolded her. "All your friends are here."

Tonks ignored the comment and started asking about Fleur instead. Molly silently agreed to play along for the time being.

-----

Molly kept an eye on Tonks and Remus during the whole dinner and didn't fail to notice neither how far away they sat from each other nor how they didn't exchange one single word - although they often glanced at each other. She briefly wondered if anyone else had noticed something was wrong between those two, but she quickly dismissed the thought. After all, nobody was paying attention to them, not when they were having dinner with Fleur Delacour, the beautiful, French, quarter-Veela girl.

After everyone was finished with dinner, they moved to the sitting room. Molly managed to get all the Order members to chat together and didn't have trouble forcing Tonks in a chair right beside Remus. They still weren't directly addressing each other, though, and when Remus said a joke about Canadian Boggarts, Tonks only managed a half-hearted smile.

Generally, Remus seemed to be rather pensive during the whole evening, and he was the first to leave, claiming that he had to wake up early the next day. Tonks left shortly after, muttering promises to Molly that she would never join them for dinner again.

-----

She kept her promise. She visited the Burrow every day, without keeping a regular schedule, but never at lunchtime or dinnertime. Molly insistently tried to make her break her promise, usually in front of other people, but Tonks always found an excuse to turn down the invitation. Molly was growing anxious. She still didn't know what exactly had happened that evening at Tonks's: Tonks didn't want to discuss it any further and Molly did not pressure her; as for Remus, he was his usual self, even though he seemed lost in thought at times. But she watched their attitude carefully during the Order meetings, and every time it was more obvious that they had some issues to work out. Obvious to her, of course; although everyone noticed Tonks's mood was going from bad to worse, nobody realised that she was barely exchanging hello's with Remus anymore - perhaps because she was barely speaking in general.

Molly wished she could do something to help them. She would have tried to interfere, in spite of her beliefs, but from the very first time she had met with Tonks after that dinner, the younger woman had flatly stated that, if she ever found out that Molly had mentioned one single word to Remus, she would perform Oblivion Spells to both of them. Understanding how devastating it was for Tonks to be trapped in such a situation, Molly respected her wish and did not as much as breathe an insinuation. Yet, she didn't stop trying to make them get together and talk, an attempt that had no result at all.

-----

Some days after that dinner, the Order was gathered again in the Burrow kitchen, waiting for a gazelle-shaped Patronus that would be their cue to leave to London.

The need to capture Bellatrix Lestrange was becoming greater with each passing day; the woman had proved to be a great weapon for the Death Eaters and a major threat to the Order. After Sirius's murder, she had participated in a number of other violent acts; not to mention, her distrust in Severus Snape was putting his disguise in danger. Tonks, along with Emmeline Vance, had been specifically assigned to try to locate her, using the few tidbits of information Snape could provide them with - since she didn't trust him with any information on herself. As their research was ending up in a dead-end, however, Emmeline had come up with another plan.

She suggested that they lured Bellatrix, or possibly a group of Death Eaters, into her house. She would be there, ready to send a signal to the Order, which would then arrive at the scene to overpower them. Although it was a risky plan, she had thought it out in great detail and Dumbledore had finally decided to proceed with it.

That was why they were gathered all together, waiting for her Patronus. However, the anxiety that was natural to be in the air while they waited was increasing by the minute. Snape, who was the one to 'betray' Emmeline to Voldemort, had managed to find out the details of the Death Eaters' plans and had already informed the Order about the time of the attack and the number of Death Eaters participating. Yet, it had been about ten minutes since the time he had given them and no signal had arrived yet.

Some had started to suggest that they should go to London anyway, when the door opened and Snape walked in, looking rather gloomy.

"The plan failed," he announced. "Emmeline Vance is dead."

Everyone gasped. "What...? How...?" some asked.

"Avery, who had access to her work schedule from the Ministry records, went to her house with Bellatrix Lestrange while she was at work and charmed it in a way that would prevent any contact with people outside it, so that she would be unable to call for help. But it seems that Bellatrix, whose distrust in me you are all aware of, made sure to keep this information from me until everything was over." Snape clenched his fist in anger towards that woman. "She came to report to the Dark Lord minutes ago... She was gloating with pride. She said that Emmeline put up a fight, even managed to Stupefy Dolohov and Jugson, but 'finally had to surrender to their superiority'."

Everyone was shocked. They sank on the chairs, their faces dark with sorrow. The women had started to weep.

"We should've gone," Tonks whispered. "We shouldn't have waited for her signal."

Hestia rose. "I am going to her place," she stated in her trembling voice. "To take care of her."

"Do you want someone to come with you?" Dumbledore asked with concern. He knew that Hestia was a good friend of Emmeline's for years... she would have a hard time dealing with her death.

"I'll go with her," Kingsley said. "Come on, Hestia..."

He offered her his arm, and she gratefully leaned on him as they walked out.

For several minutes, nobody thought of speaking. They just sat all together, mourning their colleague and friend, who had died in the line of duty. She wasn't the first... and she certainly wasn't going to be the last.

Finally, McGonagall rose from her chair. "I think there's no reason for us to stay here any longer."

Several members made to get up as well, but Dumbledore stopped them. "Before you leave..." he called.

Everyone turned towards him.

"I understand that this is not the best time to discuss work, but, unfortunately, we cannot afford to let time pass us by. Bellatrix Lestrange is still on the loose, and we just came across another example of what she is capable of doing. We shall need to proceed with the arranged plan for tracking her down, but someone must take Emmeline's place in it. I believe that Remus is the only one with a free schedule right now?"

Some murmurs confirming Dumbledore's thought were heard.

"If you do not mind giving up your break, Remus," the elder man spoke again, "I shall ask you to help Nymphadora with her mission."

"It would be my pleasure, Professor."

"Excellent, then. Nymphadora will fill you in on the specifics."

Remus couldn't help but steal a glance at her. He saw her leaning back on her chair, face hidden in her hands.

"Anything else you need us for, Professor?" Sturgis Podmore asked.

"No, Sturgis. You may leave now."

With some quiet goodbyes, everyone left.

-----

The hours passed and morning came. A grey and cloudy morning, as most had been since the Dementors started roaming the country.

Dumbledore was slowly walking down a dirty path bordered by tall hedgerows, his eyes absorbing every little detail around him, watching for any sign of movement around him.

At last, he saw it: the building that once had been the house of Gaunt. It was now nothing more than four walls so old and mouldy it was a miracle they hadn't fallen apart yet. Only a few holes indicated there had once been windows on them; as for the door, it seemed ready to fall should anyone touch it.

He approached the door, pulled out his wand and lightly tapped on the door. Red sparkles emanated. Obviously, despite its poor condition, this wasn't a house one could enter just like that.

He took some steps behind, and, with a majestic waving of his wand, he loudly called, "ENTRO!"

The walls of the house sparkled red for an instant and the door opened, without - surprisingly enough - falling on the ground.

Dumbledore walked inside. The biggest part of the floor was covered with planks and other debris that had fallen from the, almost inexistent now, roof. Some of the furniture had survived, though. He made his way through it carefully, searching for something that was still intact. His eyes fell on a shelf that looked as if it would fall from its place any moment. Only kitchen supplies rested on it. Then, he spotted a dust-covered desk.

There were three drawers on the desk. Dumbledore cast a simple spell to open the first one, and was not particularly surprised to see it fail.

He put a good distance between him and the desk and, focusing hard, tried the Reductor Curse. The desk merely shook.

After contemplating his options for a second, he scanned with his wand to discover what spell this desk was under. As he had guessed, it was a sealed Protection Spell. Very simple to cast yet extremely difficult to reverse, if you were not the Protector. Dumbledore, though, did not doubt his ability to undo it. He had proven before that nothing is impossible for those who do their best, and he had the power to prove it again.

He touched the drawer with the tip of his wand and called out loud the counterjinx. White flames started creeping around the desk, like ropes seeking to tie it. Once they had surrounded it, Dumbledore started casting Erasure Spells. The flames shimmered menacingly for a while, until the continuous, quick and forceful attack caused them to stay low.

Dumbledore knew when he had reached the point that Erasure Spells were not enough anymore. Gathering all his strength, he pointed at the desk and called out loud the Destruction Curse. The flames sizzled, weakening. Once more he cast the curse, and they faded out completely.

He breathed out heavily and tried a spell to open the drawer. This time, it opened easily. Inside it was a golden, inelegant ring set with a black stone. The moment he saw it, Dumbledore knew it was what he had been looking for.

For a minute, he pondered which spell would be most effective. Making up his mind eventually, he held out his wand and called, "VACATO!"

The ring vibrated for a few seconds. Then, it started shining with a blinding force. Dumbledore knew he had to attack it before it attacked him.

He was one second too late. Flashes of white light began darting towards his right hand, causing him to let out a scream of agony and drop his wand. The moment the wand left his hand, they disappeared, although the ring kept on shining.

Using his left hand to shield his eyes, Dumbledore examined his right. It was scarlet and rough, as if the blood underneath it were boiling. It was giving him an excruciating pain, but he tried with all his might to block it away and concentrate.

The ring would attack anyone with a wand, who would be a threat to the piece of soul hidden within. He should stay away from his wand as long as possible; it was unwise to rely on Shield Charms.

He thought hard. The Destruction Curse was one of the most powerful - if cast forcefully enough, it should be enough to destroy that piece of soul. Would it be enough, though, to undo the curse this ring was under?

Then, it dawned on him. The Removal Countercurse. It was usually used for removing minor to moderate hexes and jinxes, but in reality its force solely depended on the strength the wizard put in it. Although the pain in his hand was killing him, he did not doubt he had enough strength to produce a powerful enough Removal Countercurse.

He knelt to retrieve his wand. He pondered for a moment which hand to use - the left, which was healthy, or the right, which was his good? Finally, he decided on the right. It would be foolish to risk his left hand too, after the damage his right was suffering.

When he felt ready, he hastily grasped the wand, pointed at the ring and called out, "FINITE INCANTANTUM!"

The curse came out with a tremendous force. The desk broke into pieces while the ring remained on air, vibrating and shaking as if ready to explode. The light it emitted flickered a couple of times and continued shining, but it had no longer the power to attack Dumbledore's armed hand.

Dumbledore cast the Removal Countercurse again and then immediately the Destruction Curse. Unable to fight two so forceful curses, the ring fell on the floor, faintly quavering and glowing. The black stone had cracked in the middle.

He used the Destruction Curse one more time, and everything stopped. Exhausted by the hard effort, Dumbledore collapsed on the floor, taking deep breaths. The pain in his hand was unbearable, and it was slowly taking over his arm, too. His whole body felt weary and his head was heavy.

Slowly, he crawled to where the ring had fallen, seized it and wore it on his left hand. He also snatched his wand, which his powerless hand had dropped, and tried to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

He had encountered Dark Arts before, but it was the first time he had been so severely hurt. He didn't have the strength to fight this curse on his own; he needed the help of someone who knew the Dark Arts well and could reverse it before it killed him.

He needed Snape.

Wednesday, he remembered. Severus must be at school, processing the OWL results.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, and, with the little strength he had left, Disapparated.

-----

Snape put Blaise Zabini's report card on the heap. It was the last one.

He opened the door with a spell. Then, he pointed at the heap with his wand and ordered it to the Headmaster's office, where the report cards would be double-checked and signed before being sent to their recipients.

Snape then grabbed his cloak and headed out of the castle. He had to hurry; he hated leaving Wormtail alone in his house, free to mess with his things. Not that there was anything incriminating to find, but the mere thought of him going through his personal belongings was repulsing.

He was still far from the gates when he saw them opening and someone crawling inside. Anxious, he quickened his pace, although whoever was over there seemed to be too weak to do any harm.

As the unmistakably long and silver hair of Professor Dumbledore became discernible, Snape ran towards him.

"Severus," Dumbledore whispered, when Snape was near enough for his blurry eyesight to recognise him. "Just the man I was looking for."

"Professor, what happened to you?" Snape asked, kneeling beside him.

"A... curse..."

"What curse?"

"The object it was protecting was doused in a white light... It kept attacking me while I was holding my wand..."

Snape gulped. He knew this curse, one of the most powerful Dark Curses that existed. To his knowledge, only one potion could cure its effects. He had to go prepare it - but how could he leave Dumbledore there, alone, on the verge of dying?

"Mobilicorpus," he said. Dumbledore's body floated up. As quickly as he could, Snape carried him to the hospital wing, where he left him with Madam Pomfrey, and rushed to the dungeons.

-----

It was a very tricky potion to make. It required a large amount of rare ingredients - fortunately for Dumbledore, Snape always made sure not to be short of any potion ingredient - and careful mixing. It usually took four hours to prepare, but Snape, improvising a bit, managed to have it ready in only forty-five minutes.

He put out the fire, poured some of the potion in a large bottle and put a lid on the cauldron, with the purpose of storing the remaining liquid in other bottles once he had dealt with Dumbledore. Then, he hurried to the hospital wing.

Dumbledore was there, lying on a bed, sweaty and delusional, hardly breathing, his face distorted with anguish. Madam Pomfrey was trying various healing charms on him, which, although not very helpful, at least kept him alive.

"Back off," Snape told the woman, rushing near Dumbledore. She obeyed unwillingly as he quickly opened the bottle and made him drink.

"You'll drown him!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, terrified at the sight of a very determined and very grim-looking Severus Snape.

"He has to drink it all," he explained as he kept feeding Dumbledore with the potion. Dumbledore was swallowing quickly, but his condition did not seem to ameliorate.

Eventually, the bottle emptied. Snape stepped back, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face. Madam Pomfrey made her way beside Snape.

Dumbledore gasped and panted for a little longer, when, all of a sudden, he let out a big sigh and his head fell back on the pillow.

"Merlin!" Madam Pomfrey shrieked.

"That's how it works," Snape snapped and seized Dumbledore's hand. It was still withered, and by now black as coal. "Professor, can you listen to me?" he asked in a soft voice he hadn't used in years.

"Yes, Severus," Dumbledore whispered, his eyes closed.

"Can you feel your hand?" He pressed gently.

"Yes..."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, but it feels like it is ready to fall apart."

"There is no such danger," Snape assured him. "The potion worked. You will be fine in a few hours. Just make sure to take some rest," he said, eyeing Madam Pomfrey.

"I will look to it," she confirmed.

"Severus," Dumbledore spoke again, a little more loudly now, "I forgot to thank you, I believe."

"You are welcome, Professor." He turned to Madam Pomfrey. "He is only going to be getting better from now on. If he seems to deteriorate, send me an owl. Do not try to contact me in any other way, is that clear?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. Severus Snape was not a bad person, she knew that very well, but she always found him scary - he was the only person who could boss her around in her own territory. She was very happy to see him stride out the room.

-End of chapter 4-