Harry Potter and the Daoimear de Dán

Chapter Six- Initiations & Animagi

Even if they hadn't noticed that Harry and Hermione had been going out, everyone noticed how cold they were to each other the next day. At breakfast, Hermione remained there only long enough to grab a slice of toast and disappear. During the course of the day, Ron calculated that they said a total of five words to each other.

Finally, after the most tense Potions evening lesson ever, Ron cornered Harry.

"What did you say?" he demanded. Harry looked up at him with sad, tired eyes.

"What?"

"To Hermione? What did you say or do that has you both this way?"

"I broke up with her."

Ron's eyes goggled with disbelief.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"Why?" Ron asked. Harry wondered if he could tell Ron the real reason. No, Ron would only force him to see the other side or worse, tell Hermione. No, he had to keep the lie going.

"I don't love her."

"Yeah right," scoffed Ron. "And I'm a Magpie fan."

"I don't," Harry repeated stubbornly. Ron sighed, knowing that he was likely to get more out of a brick wall.

"Fine, don't tell me. But I'm warning you now, if you do anything to hurt her, I will hex you so badly you'll wish Voldemort would come to finish you off."

"All right."

"Come on, we should get some sleep. I've almost forgotten what it's like to sleep long enough to dream," Ron said, trying to pull his friend out of this cold mood.

***

"I know what he's doing," said Hermione. Her voice quivered slightly as she forced another sob down. She wasn't going to cry over Harry Potter. Not now, not ever.

"What?" asked Maura nervously. She wasn't good with girl talk, and even worse with advice and consolation, but she was going to try. She'd only gone to ask Hermione a question about Voldemort and had found the girl sitting in her dorm staring into space.

"He's pushing me away so that Death Eaters don't try to come after me again. Or some heroic bollocks that doesn't matter!" she was getting angry now. It took a lot to make Hermione swear, but real anger brought it out of her.

"Oh. Heroes, huh? Who'd have them?" Maura said wryly, figuring that if she was no good with sympathy, she might as well go with the sarcastic comments. She managed to extract a slight smile from Hermione.

"You would."

"Yes, but I'm not exactly sane, am I? When they handed out compassion and sanity, I was in the line for sarcasm and spite."

"You're not spiteful," said Hermione.

"No? Give me a chance to warm up a bit."

"You're not as bad as you make yourself out to be."

"Yes I am. And that's not the issue here. If it hurts, confront the daft prat."

"No, no," Hermione said in an almost serene voice. "I know that daft prat. He won't let me in now. He's put up all these walls up to stop me getting in. He's tried it before. He nearly didn't tell me in the first place, you know."

"Why?"

"Because of what you said about you and about George. That time, his heart won out. This time, that part of his brain that's certain he's meant to be a 24-hour-a-day hero won."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He has to decide for himself. I'm his best friend and that won't change. I'll still be there to help, but if he wants to love me again, he has to come to me."

"That's awfully stubborn."

"Yes. I'm as good at pig-headedness as he is."

"You make a right pair, you know that? It's different than me and George you know. We barely knew each other and it was all new. You two know each other inside out and back to front. Even I can see that."

"Well, we'll just have to see what happens. It's probably better this way. He gets to concentrate on saving the world and killing Voldemort."

"Well, you know what they say: all work and no play makes Jack a dull beanstalk."

Hermione laughed at Maura's variation on the phrase.

"Do you suppose you'll ever fall in love again?" Hermione asked Maura.

"I know I won't," she answered without needing to think about it.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"No. I stopped feeling a very long time ago."

"But you opened up to us."

"A bit. But there were only two people who ever really gave a damn about me. One is dead and the other... She promised me that if we ever met again, only one of us would survive."

"Katerina hates you that much?"

"Yes. She stuck by me for years and years when not even my family did. I betrayed her. I don't blame her."

"Falling in love isn't a crime, you know," Hermione said gently.

"It is if you're me. Heroes aren't allowed to fall in love. Look at those Jedi dipsticks," Maura said.

"I never liked Star Wars," Hermione said with a smile.

"Neither did I," said Maura. "But know this: no matter how much it hurts now, you'll survive."

"I know."

"And you can always give him a good arse-kicking when Sirius lets you train again."

"Oh, I'm looking forward to it," she said. "Thanks."

"I should go," said Maura. She went to the door, but stopped and turned back. "Why did you tell me all this? I'm nobody's first choice of confidante."

"Because... Because I knew you'd understand."

***

Monday came, and with it, the initiation of Ron and Hermione into the Order of the Phoenix. Both were excited at the prospect and found their attention dwindling as the day went on. After dinner, they both received owls informing them of the location of their initiation. Harry was nowhere to be found, so they guessed he was already there.

"Ready Hermione?" asked Ron.

"I am. Let's go," she replied. They began following the directions to the mystery location.

"What do you suppose we'll have to do?" Hermione asked as they walked along.

"Pledge allegiance, offer up our lives, some blood rituals, perhaps there will be goat slaughter."

"You've no idea, have you?" she asked with a laugh.

"None at all."

After five minutes, they arrived down a corridor they'd never seen before. At the end was a hefty oak door. According to the letter, they needed to knock. Ron did so, and the door swung open to expose a narrow stone staircase spiralling downwards.

"Lumos," Hermione said, and her wand light filled the dark staircase. Ron did the same and followed her down the stairs. Neither particularly liked it when the door swung closed behind them. But they continued down the stairs, which opened out into a hall at the bottom.

It was as old as the oldest parts of Hogwarts. The stone floor was worn with a thousand years of use, and the only light was from torches on the walls, giving the room a warm, if slightly eerie glow. On the walls hung five tapestries: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and another in a deep shade of purple. Embroidered onto it in gold was a phoenix rampant. Hermione had always thought that it was lions that were rampant on shields. But then, that was the Muggle world...

All thoughts of such things flew from her mind when she looked at the rest of the room. There was a circular stone table in the centre of the room, and the members of the Order were standing, ready to sit down at it. Each member of the Order was wearing a deeply coloured robe. Harry's robe, she noted, was the same colour as his eyes. She tried to squelch the rush of feelings rising inside her. This, she told herself sternly, was not the time.

"Come to the table," said Dumbledore, resplendent in a scarlet robe. "There are seats for you."

Ron and Hermione did so, and Hermione realised that her seat was exactly opposite Harry's. They did not sit down yet, sensing that it was not yet time.

"Do you both swear to uphold the right to freedom of all people, male or female, wizard or Muggle?" asked Dumbledore, launching straight into the initiation.

"I do," they both said quite nervously. Sirius had told them a little bit about this bit, but nothing specific.

"Do you both swear to fight evil in its many forms and disguises, to the best of your ability?"

"I do," they both repeated.

"Do you swear to put this duty above all things, be it family or friends or life itself?"

"I do," they both said without hesitation. Neither were the sorts to shirk away from duty, after all.

"Do you promise to hold the lives of your fellow brothers and sisters in the Order dear to you?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to remain true to yourselves and the Order, always?"

"I do." Hermione thought was a strange question to ask, but answered anyway. She supposed that it was an important thing to ask.

"Then we welcome you into the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. Both let out sighs of relief.

"Ah, you're not done yet," Dumbledore said with a smile. "First, you must give yourselves to the Order."

Ron looked quite panicked. What exactly did that mean? Was there really going to be goat slaughter?

"Don't look so scared Ron," whispered Sirius, sitting next to him. Then, he drew out a highly jewelled dagger. Now Ron looked scared.

"Hold out your hand," instructed Sirius. Ron did so. Sirius took the dagger, and quite gently, pricked the end of Ron's little finger. He then extended Ron's arm over a gold bowl in the centre of the table. It looked a lot like a small gold pensieve, and whatever was inside was gold in colour and swirled like thick cream. Sirius held Ron's finger over the bowl and allowed one drop to fall into the bowl. Then he cast a quick healing charm and Ron's finger was good as new.

"Now it is Hermione's turn," said Dumbledore. Sirius passed the dagger to the person standing next to Hermione: Snape. He repeated what Sirius had done, allowing one drop of Hermione's blood to fall into the gold bowl. But instead of healing her finger with a charm, he gave her a potion to drink. When it worked as quickly as the charm, Snape smirked at Sirius.

"You are now fully initiated into the Order of the Phoenix. It is a bond that will last for the rest of your lives, which we sincerely hope will be a very long time," said Dumbledore. "And we have gifts for you."

The person sitting on the other side of Ron, Remus Lupin, handed him a long robe, just like theirs, in a deep blue colour. Ron could be heard to mutter as he put it on:

"At least it isn't maroon."

The person sitting on the other side of Hermione, Professor McGonagall, handed her a robe. It was the same deep, royal purple as that of the phoenix tapestry.

"You may sit down," said Dumbledore. Everyone did so, and Hermione marvelled that her stone seat was as comfortable as it was. Then she kicked herself: this was a room full of highly powerful wizards and witches- how hard would it be for them to add a couple of cushioning charms to the chairs?

"This is the legendary Round Table from the days of Arthur and Camelot," said Dumbledore for Ron and Hermione's benefit. "In those days, wizards and Muggles lived side by side, openly. King Arthur was a Muggle, but Merlin was, as we all know, a wizard. Those days are long gone, considered only myth by most Muggles, and almost as many wizards. But this table is that very thing of legend. Nobody is above anyone else here. I may lead our meetings, but I am no more or less than Ron or Hermione or Sirius or Severus. This table was used by the Founders and their knights and was brought here at the founding of the school. It was from here that Salazar Slytherin left and to this day, he is the only member of the Order not to remain a member to his death."

Dumbledore paused for a dramatic moment.

"We now have a full table," he said. "Something we have not needed for nearly twenty years. But now the time has come and we must be prepared for the war which we all know is coming. Together we are strong, but divided we are most certainly weak. Your fellow members are your brothers and sisters, and together I am certain that we can defeat Voldemort for good."

Then, Dumbledore gave quite a childlike grin.

"I think that's enough of the dramatic stuff, don't you?"

"Indeed Albus," said McGonagall. "I think you've terrified them."

They all laughed, Ron and Hermione from relief, the others from amusement. Harry laughed too, remembering how incredibly terrified he'd been when inducted last year. Even more so, when he discovered that the last person to sit in his place had been none other than James Potter.

"So," Dumbledore said conversationally, all tension gone from the room. "What is everyone doing for Christmas?"

A spirited conversation sprang up around the table about Christmas and soon tales of all manner of Hogwarts Christmases were being told, including one which involved Sirius, a tin of Tate & Lyle golden syrup and a feather pillow. But of course, all good things must come to an end, and soon they were preparing to leave this warm, friendly chamber and go about their business.

"What do I do with my robe, Professor?" asked Hermione. McGonagall smiled.

"Keep it, of course. It's yours," she said. At Hermione's nervous look, she continued "You'll only need it for formal occasions like this. Just keep in in your wardrobe."

"All right."

"See you in the morning, Hermione," McGonagall said, before heading up the stairs with Mundungus Fletcher and Professor Figg.

"Hey Hermione!" Ron bounded over, clearly over the moon at becoming a member of the Order.

"Nice robe, Ron."

"I know. And not maroon! Do you know I can use it as a dress robe too?"

"I didn't know about that," she said.

"Congratulations," said Harry coming over and smiling at both of them. Hermione smiled back a little shyly. She might know why he did what he did, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Nor did it mean she knew how to act around him. She watched as he hugged Ron, then he turned to her and did the same. Contact was brief but electric.

"Let's go," said Harry quickly before heading up the stairs.

***

The next day, they were quite surprised, when they arrived at their extra training, to find McGonagall and Sirius. They had been expecting to do more with their fighting skills, and McGonagall had been preparing them for their animagus training.

"We've decided to start you a little early on your animagus training," explained the Professor. "Are you all intending to stay here at Christmas?" she asked in a tone that left no room for 'no'.

"Yes," answered Harry for each of them.

"Good. We can do some intensive work then when we have much of the castle to ourselves. Now, Sirius has offered to help, although you'll find that if you train properly," she threw him a dirty glare, "You can complete your training much more rapidly than he did."

Instead of returning her glare, Sirius flashed her a dazzling smile and winked at the trio.

"It is not an easy process," McGonagall told them "but if you work hard, you should have no problems."

"How do we know what animal we become?" asked Hermione.

"Can we choose?" asked Ron eagerly, thinking it might be quite cool to become a Siberian tiger.

"Well, it is said that there is an element of choice, Mr Weasley," she said. "But it comes from the deepest recesses of your subconscious and is quite a good reflection of one's personality and character."

"Ergo, Peter Pettigrew: rat," remarked Sirius.

"Quite," said Professor McGonagall. "And therefore, Sirius Black: dog."

Not expecting to hear jokes from the usually staid McGonagall, the three paused a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Exactly Professor, exactly." he said. "What are you again?"

More laughter from everyone in the room. McGonagall was the first to refocus and began lecturing them in great depth about the requirements for becoming an animagus. No wonder there weren't many registered- this stuff was seriously difficult. In fact, Professor McGonagall was insisting that they learn all the theory before they even considered trying to transform. This was something Hermione was actively looking forward to, although Harry and Ron were suddenly less keen.

***

The Christmas holidays started soon after, and the three were grateful that they no longer had to partake in daytime classes. Of course, their evening work was extended and they found themselves practicing duelling with Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape in the mornings, while they continued studying transfiguration in the afternoons.

For once, however, their evenings were free. This was a turn of events Harry had been looking forward to, but now that he and Hermione were no longer together, it didn't seem to matter as much.

"Harry?" she asked. He looked up from his book to find Hermione standing there, looking quite nervous.

"Yes?"

"I um... Well, do you remember you said you'd help me with my flying lessons? Madam Hooch went home for Christmas and I was wondering..."

"Of course I'll help," he said with a smile. Friends, he told himself firmly, we're still best friends. I can do this for her.

"Thanks," she said, looking quite relieved. He stood up.

"We should get started before it gets too dark."

"All right," she said, following him out of the tower.

"Have you been practicing on a school broom?"

"I was but..." she looked excited. "Madam Hooch has lent me her Nimbus 2000 for the duration of Christmas!" Hermione was practically hopping up and down with excitement. He grinned.

"I take it you're starting to enjoy flying, then?"

"Yes. Just... when I'm flying, I feel really free. It's strange, you know, but I never thought I'd like flying, but it just feels... right, I suppose. I mean, it's not the easiest thing I've ever done, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. Madam Hooch says that it's a confidence thing."

"You, Hermione Granger, not confident?" Harry looked stunned.

"Harry, you know very well that not everyone can excel at everything. Except you, of course."

"I'm not good at everything!"

"No? When was the last time you got less than 90% in a test? Even when you didn't bother studying? Face it Potter, you're some sort of aberration."

"Aberration?"

"Yes," she said. "Everyone needs something that they're not so good at. It keeps them human."

"Ah! I'm really bad at Divination!" he crowed triumphantly. "I suck at Divination!"

"There you go. You're human after all."

"And I'm not so very perfect," he said. She snorted.

"Yes, I know."

There was a moment's awkward silence as they both tried to think about exactly what she meant.

"I mean, I never study. I have a really horrible temper when I get angry..." he trailed off as they reached the broom shed. Opening the door with the required password Harry went in and got his Firebolt, while Hermione found Madam Hooch's Nimbus.

"It's nice," he said appreciatively. "I liked my old broom. Not as much as I love my Firebolt of course, but there's something about the Nimbus..."

"Harry, it's cold and getting dark. I thought we'd skip the broom lecture?" she said. He went to protest but on seeing her smiling, thought better of it.

"Come on then, show me what you've got."

"Fine." Hermione swung her leg over the broom gracefully and lifted up into the air. Harry watched closely for a minute or two as she flew, before flying to join her.

"Tuck your left leg in more. You'll be more balanced," he advised as they flew over the grounds. As the lesson went on and he gave her more of such advice, she grew in confidence and by the time it was too dark to continue, she seemed to have solved the confidence issue.

"You're really doing very well," Harry said as he locked the broom shed and they headed up to the castle. "I'll ask Sirius if you can join us in our lessons."

"You're learning to fly?"

"Yeah. Offensive and defensive manoeuvres. Battle flying, if you will."

"Is it difficult?" she asked, biting the bottom of her lip anxiously.

"Some of it is. I nearly fell off my broom the other day. But I maintain that Ron was distracting me."

"Oh of course."

They went inside and found the warmth of the castle soothing after so long outside in the cold. As they were going upstairs, they bumped into Maura. She was dressed to go out and was carrying a holdall.

"There you are!" she said, relief etched in her face. "I just wanted to say 'Happy Christmas' before I left."

"Where are you going?" asked Hermione.

"I'm going to spend Christmas with my daughter," Maura said in her usual cool tones. She couldn't help a smile spreading across her face, however.

"That's wonderful!" said Hermione.

"Be careful," added Harry. "Lucius Malfoy probably knows who you are by now."

"I know, I know. I should be back in two weeks. Happy Christmas," she said again, before bounding down the stairs. Harry and Hermione continued on their way.

"It's nice that she gets to spend Christmas with her daughter, don't you think?" Hermione said.

"Yeah."

"I mean, Deirdre's all she has left of George really, when you think about it."

"Yeah. 'Twas the night before Christmas'," he said to the Fat Lady, who swung open with a quick Christmas greeting to them.

"Hey, you're back!" said Ron, not getting up from warming his feet by the common room fire. "Did you see Maura?"

"Yeah," said Harry, joining him in the feet-warming.

"I'll be upstairs," said Hermione with a yawn. She then bounded up the stairs to her dorm.

The other Gryffindor girls had gone home for Christmas, so she was alone. She flopped onto her bed and sighed very deeply. She had enjoyed her flying lesson- not only had she improved quite considerably under Harry's tuition, but it had been fun. It had been like before she was kidnapped. Knowing why Harry had pushed her away was all very well, but it didn't make the hurt go away.

It was painful for Hermione to watch him begin his process of drawing away from the world. He'd stepped down as Quidditch captain although he remained on the team. By now of course, the other Gryffindors had guessed something big was going on: for Harry to stop being captain, it had to be something life-threateningly huge. Of course there was also the way the trio and their mysterious friend disappeared every night and the way Hermione had been kidnapped. Yes, the other Gryffindors and many others in the school knew that something was coming. But it seemed that they had the sense not to ask. They'd find out in due course.

***

Christmas came and went with the usual pomp of a Hogwarts Christmas, although there were remarkably few students this year: only Harry, Hermione, Ron, a Hufflepuff First year and a Ravenclaw Third year. By the end of the holidays, McGonagall had still not let the three try to transform and even Hermione was getting impatient. But the other students returned to school and classes resumed without any of them even gaining so much as a paw.

There was one major change in timetabling, however. Every student in the Fourth year and above was to take classes in duelling, taught by the foremost duellers in school: Flitwick, Snape and a new teacher by the name of White. He was a most popular teacher- friendly, outgoing. He was quite handsome really, and his dazzling smile quickly sparked off many schoolgirl crushes. And not one student recognised him as the criminal Sirius Black.

"You would think," Harry whispered to Hermione during the Seventh year duelling class "that he'd have to do more than simply dye his hair blond."

"Yes, but it's been a few years since his picture was plastered all over the Prophet. And then he was thin and sick. Now he's..." Hermione trailed off as she watched Sirius.

"Are you getting a crush on my godfather, Hermione?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Not even remotely," she said. "I was going to say well-fed and happy."

"Oh. Good. The emotional repercussions of you lusting after Sirius are too dreadful to contemplate."

"Well," she said. "I don't have a crush on anyone. So I hope that makes you feel better."

Harry flinched at the slightly bitter note in her voice, but he didn't blame her for a second. The class continued silently for the pair after that.

***

Finally, two weeks after term began, McGonagall said that they were finally ready to transform into animagi. It would be quite painful the first time, she told them, but Sirius was going to be on hand ready to transform if need be.

Harry went first, trying to remember everything he could, while at the same time wondering what he was going to be. He quite liked the idea of being a stag, like his father.

"Bloody Hell!" he heard Ron exclaimed. Then he heard a deafening roar. Was that him? He padded over to the mirror McGonagall had set up. Harry Potter was a lion, a huge golden lion with a quite magnificent dark brown mane, which he couldn't help shaking slightly like he saw real lions do on television. As the pain became almost too much, he transformed back.

"Of all the things you could've been," said Sirius. "You couldn't think of anything a little more inconspicuous?"

"I didn't choose," Harry panted, lying on the floor trying to ignore the ache in his arms. "It chose me."

"Well, the lion is a brave, noble creature. King of the jungle and all that," said Hermione, not surprised in the least, but wondering how Harry would ever be able to transform without sparking nationwide panic over 'Lion escapes from Zoo' reports. Perhaps the Beast on Bodmin Moor was just an wizard animagus...

"Ron, you next," said McGonagall. Harry had got up from the floor and was now slumped tiredly in a chair.

Ron transformed quite quickly.

"Not you too!" said Sirius. As Harry had done, Ron turned in his animagus form to the mirror. He remembered thinking it might be nice to be a Siberian tiger some weeks ago, but this... He was a tiger, but instead of the white fur of a Siberian, he had the vivid red/orange fur and black stripes of a Bengal tiger. He transformed back, the pain overwhelming him.

"I can't even get rid of my hair when I'm an animal!" he moaned.

"You two are going to strike terror into hearts all over Britain, you know," Sirius said. Ron got up off the floor to give Hermione some room.

"I wonder what Hermione's going to be? A leopard or a panther, perhaps?" said Sirius, grinning, clearly quite amused at the whole thing. Harry now wondered what it was like when he and the Marauders had transformed for the first time. How had they felt when it turned out that Peter was a rat?

Hermione concentrated with all her might on her transformation. Suddenly, quite suddenly, she felt like she was floating. Then falling. Oh! She had wings. Frantically, she tried to fly, thinking quite irrationally that Harry wouldn't be able to help with this sort of flying.

"Look at her!" she heard Harry say with awe in his voice. She moved around to look in the mirror, although she had to fly lower to see. She was a phoenix. She was about to change back, but realised that she was likely to fall to the ground. She flew gracefully down to the floor and then changed back.

"A phoenix, Miss Granger!" said McGonagall in a rather excited voice. "It's extremely rare to find a phoenix animagus."

"I'm a phoenix? How? What? Why?" Her arms were aching from flying and she was panting quite heavily.

"I have no idea, Hermione. Phoenixes are highly loyal and loving, you know."

"And at least you're not something with its own enclosure at London Zoo," said Sirius with a smirk.

"How are you Simba?" Hermione asked Harry with a grin. He laughed, although Ron seemed to not understand.

"And Shere Khan, over here," she said to Ron, who still didn't understand. "We'll tell you later," she told him.

"Well, I think any Death Eaters trying to fight you lot will have trouble," said Sirius.

"We will continue your training," said Professor McGonagall, recovered from the shock of seeing a lion, a tiger and a phoenix in her classroom. "You must become used to the pain of transformation so that it is no longer an issue. And of course, you must get used to moving around in your animagus form."

"Oh, that's a lot of fun!" said Sirius, running a hand through his newly blond hair. His eyes were gleaming with untold mischief. McGonagall glared at him.

"What? It was!" he said, throwing her a charming smile. "This one time, me and Prongs..."

"Professor White, do you think that this is the time?" Professor McGonagall said firmly.

"Of course not. This is a lesson, and you should be in a learning frame of mind," he said solemnly, winking at Harry.

"Indeed. Although I think that's enough for today. You may go. If any of you continue feeling pain, go and see Madam Pomfrey for muscle relaxants."

"Yes Professor," said Hermione. "Thank you."

Then the lion, the tiger and the phoenix (oh my!) went in search of food.

***

The next day seemed very strange. It was just a normal day, but each of the three remembered being an animal the night before. It was strange, and they didn't know how they could concentrate on their lessons that day. But concentrate they did, and after dinner as always, they headed off to another lesson. On this particular day, they were researching more on shamans with Maura and Professor Binns, who was quite annoyed at being dragged out of his usual schedule, although he delighted in teaching even more.

"So, what animals are you?" asked Maura. As a non-magical person, she found the whole idea of transfiguring in an actual animal absolutely astounding and fascinating.

"Ron's a Bengal tiger, and he's huge," said Hermione. "I'm a phoenix and Harry's a great big lion."

Maura nearly choked on the pumpkin juice she was drinking.

"A lion? An actual lion, with a mane and a roar and everything?"

"Yes," said Harry, caught between pride and a little embarrassment. "I wish I was something a little bit more normal."

"None of us are normal animagi, Harry, you're not the only one."

"What are phoenixes like?" asked Maura. "That one Dumbledore has seems just like a normal bird to me."

"Oh, phoenix song is one of the most beautiful things in the world," said Hermione knowledgeably. "Phoenix tears heal pretty much anything, and they can carry huge weights with their tails."

"Does that mean you'll burst into flames and stuff?" Maura asked Hermione.

"I have no idea."

They worked a little while longer, and just as they were thinking that they could go on no longer, Professor Dumbledore came in.

"I apologise for interrupting, Professor Binns," he said in his usual understated manner. "But I need to speak to Miss Granger."

"Of course, Professor," said Binns in his monotonous voice. Hermione put her things back in her bag and followed the Headmaster out of the room.

***

Wordlessly, Hermione followed Professor Dumbledore down the corridor, but instead of going to his office, they went in the direction of the Order Chamber. Indeed, Dumbledore opened the door and led her down the stone steps into the now empty chamber. The torches flared to life as they went inside, illuminating the room.

"Do sit down, Miss Granger," he said with a reassuring smile. She sat down in the seat she'd been given at the ceremony.

"I am told that your animagus form is that of a phoenix," he began.

"Yes Professor."

"Interesting. It is incredibly rare, you know."

"Professor McGonagall told me yesterday."

"The phoenix is one of the most beautiful, fascinating creatures in the world, magical or not. As you know, I have a special fondness for them."

"Yes Professor," she said, thinking of Fawkes.

"Do you know how many recorded instances there are of phoenix animagi?"

"No," she said.

"In the last two thousand years, there have been only three. You are the fourth."

Dumbledore paused for a very long moment.

"Did you notice that the robe you were given when you joined the order was the same colour as the tapestry here?" he asked her.

"I did notice, yes. Is there a significance?"

"You also know that you are descended from some of the greatest druids and philosophers of the Celtic race?" Dumbledore answered her question with a question.

"Yes."

"When you were inducted, I told you that this was the Round Table of legend. What I did not tell you was the identity of the first person to sit in your place," Dumbledore said. "There was a druid named Ruairi. He was quite probably the greatest of the druids from Ireland. He was the High Priest of all Connaught during the time of Queen Maeve and he was revered not only by the Celts of Ireland, but of all Britain as well."

"But that was a thousand years before Hogwarts was founded. How can he have been one of the first?" she asked.

"Ah, the Order is much older than Hogwarts. It was founded by druids here in Britain at the same time a baby was born in Bethlehem who would change the world," he paused for a moment.

"The Order was founded at Stonehenge, you know. Ruairi was invited to join the Order. He was the most powerful druid of the time and a truly good man. It was he who gave the Order its name. He was one of the first animagi of the time and the form he took was that of a phoenix. He was the first head of the Order of the Phoenix."

"Oh. What does this have to do with me?"

"You are not just descended from druids. You are descended from Ruairi."

Hermione's eyes goggled slightly. She, Muggle-born Hermione Granger was the descendant of the greatest druid of all time?

"Of course, the phoenix would not have chosen you if you did not possess the qualities deserving of it. But the three phoenix animagi, including yourself, that have come after him have all been descended from him."

"You said he was the first head of the Order, Professor. Why isn't there such a thing now?"

"Power corrupts, Miss Granger," he started.

"And absolute power corrupts absolutely," she finished.

"Yes. Although Ruairi was equipped with the gifts and character needed for such a position, others who followed him were not. Salazar Slytherin was the last head of the Order."

"Slytherin?"

"Yes. You will find, Miss Granger, that all history, no matter how diverse it seems, is woven together in strange and wonderful ways."

"Who were the other phoenix animagi, Professor?"

"Ah. One was Rowena Ravenclaw, although a cursory study of genealogy shows that you and she are in different branches of Ruairi's family tree."

"But the Ravenclaw emblem is an eagle."

"Yes it is. She did not exactly publicise her gift, Miss Granger. There are people in the world who would try and take advantage of such things."

"Oh. Of course."

"The third, Miss Granger, was a woman by the name of Kathleen MacLennon," he said gently.

"What?" Hermione looked completely shocked and nearly fell off her chair. She knew that name. That was her great-grandmother's name. Dumbledore smiled at her.

"I'm sure this comes as a shock to you," he said.

"No. Well, it's a shock I suppose, but it does make a lot of things make more sense," she said. "My great-grandmother lived to be a hundred years old. She was a witch wasn't she? That's why she lived so long."

"Yes. Do you remember when she died, Hermione?"

"Not very well. I was eight."

"She was more than a hundred years old. She was older than me. She spent a great deal of time fudging her birth date so that nobody would realise that she was over one hundred and fifty years old."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Did you meet her?"

"I did. She was a member of the Order. And she sat in your chair."

"Oh," Hermione's eyes goggled for the second time that evening. "Why did she live as a Muggle?"

"Her phoenix nature was revealed to Grindelwald. He attempted to kidnap her and use her powers for his own gain. So in 1932, she left the wizard world behind almost completely. She remained in the Order until she died, but she was no longer an active member. By the time we vanquished Grindelwald, she had made a life for herself in the Muggle world."

"Didn't you ask her to return?"

"Yes, we did. But that was her choice. She had fallen in love, as people are sometimes lucky enough to do."

Hermione sighed quietly, sadly at this point. Yes, some people are that lucky, she thought.

"She wanted to stay with her new family. Kitty had a daughter by the time we regained contact, you know. I remember getting a very happy letter from her in the thirties telling me about her new daughter. A ray of sunshine for us all in a dark time."

"My grandmother?"

"Yes."

"Did my great-grandmother... Did Granny Kitty know I was magical?" she asked him. Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

"As soon as you were born, she procured an owl and wrote to me. She sensed it, you know. Kitty's strengths were empathic in nature. Of course, by then, Voldemort was gaining more and more power and she refused to allow you into the wizard world until it came time for you to start at Hogwarts. I don't believe she even told your parents until much later."

"Oh," Hermione felt rather like she might cry very soon.

"The world works in very mysterious ways, Hermione. Do you remember what I said to Harry after the Sirius incident in your third year? About that stag patronus," he asked her.

"You said that Prongs rode again. That the dead never leave us."

"Yes. You have a fine memory."

"It was a strange night, Professor. I remember it well."

"I'm sure you do," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "The dead never truly leave us, Hermione. That is why, two thousand years later, Ruairi lives on in some form in you, why Kitty lives on in you too. That is why Harry's patronus is a stag. You should be comforted to know that Kitty lived to know that you would come to Hogwarts. She lived long enough to see Voldemort defeated by Harry. She knew you would come here during a time of relative safety. And I deeply suspect that she knew what powerful magic you would have."

"What about Harry? And Ron? And Maura?" Hermione's mind was swimming with questions.

"Ahh," Dumbledore paused to think for a moment. "Don't you think it quite a coincidence that the descendants of the druids, the warriors and the shamans are all together now, just as war comes to us? The world works in mysterious ways, Hermione. We can only play our part as best we can. And the four of you have major parts to play."

"Well, I'll... I'll try not to let you down, Professor," said Hermione, quite overwhelmed by everything. "Are there any books about Ruairi in the library?"

Dumbledore laughed quite heartily and she couldn't help but join in.

"I believe Harry was right about you," he said. Hermione's smile disappeared.

"What did he say?"

"That you were the most intelligent witch in the school."

"Oh. I just read a lot."

"A lot of people read, Hermione. Not everyone takes it in or understands what they read."

"Thank you Professor," she said. "I think I'll go to the library."

"I thought you might. And you should find references to Ruairi and those who followed him in this book..." he paused to write on a sheet of paper. "It's in the restricted section," he told her.

"Thank you," she said again, before heading up the stairs, wondering exactly what she would find.

***