The Phoenix Chronicles, Volume I: Phoenix Dawn

The Phoenix Chronicles, Volume I: Phoenix Dawn

A Harry Potter FanFic by Jonathan Brenner

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor the characters associated with Harry Potter. I do not make money on this and am writing it purely for the entertainment of myself and all those who would read this.

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Chapter 1: A Fond Farewell

Ginny was lying face down on the ground, bloodied and bruised, but there was nothing he could do. On his knees, blood tricking from cuts and gashes all over him, he could barely muster the strength to keep from collapsing. He felt the rage rising as he looked at her, burning deep in his chest. His gaze traveled up to their assailant, standing over them.

Before him was a dark figure, cloaked in robes as black as night, a face hidden by a hood to match. The attacker did not move nor make a sound as he faced Harry. A wand was clutched in the figure's right hand, pointed down towards the ground. Harry glanced downward, his own wand in pieces before him.

Without a word, the figure raised its wand, quickly waving it across. A searing pain shot across Harry's chest, and he screamed in pain. His shirt was tattered, the fresh rip oozing blood. The figure waved the wand again, and another tear streaked across his chest. Harry fell to his hands, but a moment later he pushed himself back on his knees, his emerald eyes flashing defiance. With a snarl, Harry pushed himself up onto his feet.

The figure waved his wand a third time, and a force knocked Harry backwards, skidding across the ground and stopping face down. He stayed in that position only a second before he pushed himself back onto his knees, his eyes returning to the attacker. The figure slowly raised the wand, but it did not point at Harry, it pointed at Ginny. Ginny looked up at the wand, then turned to Harry, her tear-filled eyes locked on his. "Harry..." she whispered. Then all Harry saw was a flash of green light.

"GINNY!" Harry screamed as he shot up in bed. Harry looked around, disoriented and sweating. Relief overwhelmed him as he found himself in his bedroom at Number Four Privet Drive. He sat there for a moment, allowing his heart to slow back down. He swiped his hand across his brow as his eyes swept around the room.

A faint light was peeking through the fluttering curtains of the open window, though the sun had not quite come up yet. Hedwig's cage was open and empty on the desk in the corner of his room; Harry had let her out last night for some exercise. He did not do it too often; else he'd risk the ire of Uncle Vernon. He really did not care what his uncle thought or said, but felt that keeping the peace would be more constructive. He had considered sending Hedwig to the Burrow to stay, but Ron and Hermione had convinced him that it would be better to keep her with them, in case they needed to send a message out in an emergency.

Harry looked down at the two sleeping forms on the floor near his bed. True to their word, Ron and Hermione did not leave Harry alone for longer than a day after they had left Hogwarts. Hermione had told her parents that she would be staying with some friends over the summer to study for her upcoming N.E.W.Ts and wanted to start as soon as possible. Ron simply said that he'd be staying with Harry until around the end of July. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had yelled until they were red in the face when they arrived; but in the end, after promising that they would mostly be staying either in Harry's room or outside of the house while they were there, and that they would not be using magic of any sort, Uncle Vernon relented.

They were planning on leaving Privet Drive at least a week before Harry's birthday; they felt that waiting until Harry came of age would be too risky. They did not know who might be watching the house, so no one knew exactly when they would leave. Bill and Fleur's wedding had been delayed until the end of August, mostly due to Mrs. Weasley's concerns over security. Harry was nervous about being at the Burrow that long. His resolve over breaking up with Ginny after Dumbledore's funeral had barely held for five minutes speaking to her. He was not sure if he could hold it together for a whole month and a half.

Harry glanced down at his two friends again. He wasn't surprised that Ron and Hermione had not been woken up. The sleeping bags they slept in were charmed to provide extra comfort, regardless of the ground, and, when pulled over their heads, to be completely soundproof. They were glad for this; Harry had not gone one night when he did not wake screaming. Harry let out a sigh. He decided that he did not want to go back to sleep; the thought of going through that again was a bit unsettling, to say the least. Slowly and silently he slid out of bed and tip-toed to the door. Looking behind him to make sure no one was stirring, he softly opened the door and slipped into the hallway.

Harry knew the Dursleys would not be awake. They (Ron and Hermione, since Harry was still not of age) had put Silence Charms on Harry's room the day Ron and Hermione arrived, to avoid any eavesdropping from nosy relatives (on more than one occasion Harry had opened his door to find Aunt Petunia awkwardly falling into the room). Harry went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. This had become routine for him. During the week he would make breakfast when he got up, to keep the peace between them and the Dursleys; on weekends such as this he had plenty of time before he needed to start. The Dursleys liked to sleep in late when they could.

He took the kettle off just before it was to whistle. He made himself a cup of tea and sat down at the table, reflecting again on his dream. It didn't really bother Harry that he had never seen the face of who it was in his nightmare that was attacking him and Ginny, but there was no doubt in his mind who it was. Harry didn't need to see his face to know that. What did bother Harry was how he felt when waking up. If it had been Ron or Hermione, the sense of loss would have been devastating, to be sure. That it was Ginny made Harry feel that life had simply ceased to exist and all he needed to do was to just roll over and die. It scared him to think of what he felt for Ginny, even though they'd only been together a few weeks, but it also helped to strengthen his resolve on his decision. The further away she was, the safer she would be. The more miserable he would be, certainly, but that was a role he had to accept, for her sake.

As he sipped his tea, Harry heard footsteps outside the door and soon Hermione's head popped into the kitchen. "Harry?" she whispered.

Harry smiled up at her as she sat down at the table. "What got you up so early?" he asked, taking another sip.

"I could ask you the same question," she replied as she got right back up to get herself a cup. "Your relatives won't be awake for hours."

"I know. I had trouble sleeping last night and decided to come downstairs and enjoy some peace and quiet." Harry did not feel like talking about his nightmares. His scar never hurt afterwards and so he convinced himself that they weren't significant. He hoped he was right.

"You had a nightmare didn't you?" It was more of a statement than a question, and it caught Harry off guard. Hermione sat back down with her tea and looked at him. "Honestly, Harry, I've known you for six years. Do you think I wouldn't be able to figure out what would get you out of bed so early on a morning when you didn't have to get up to cook?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose not."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry stared at his cup. After a moment, he responded. "I dreamed I was fighting Voldemort for the last time. And I lost." He looked up at Hermione. "I lost, and it wasn't me that had to pay for my failure."

Hermione gave him a look of sympathy. "What happened?"

Harry sat silent. He was not sure if he wanted to talk about it, but then again it was eating him up inside. Besides, it was a bit late to keep it to himself. "I didn't die."

Hermione was confused. "If you didn't die, then why are you upset?"

"Because.....because Ginny did." Harry stammered.

Hermione stared at him. "Harry, nothing is going to happen to Ginny. It-"

"How do you know?" he snapped. "How do you know nothing will happen? How do you know nothing will happen to you, or Ron, or the Weasleys, or the Order? Did you read it somewhere in a book?"

Hermione didn't say a word, but Harry saw he hurt her. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I just.....I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Or even where to start. Just like I don't know how I'm to keep everyone safe while I'm doing...whatever it is."

"That's why you broke up with Ginny, isn't it? To keep her away so she'll be safe." Harry nodded. Hermione reached across the table and gripped Harry's hand. "It's okay. We'll find the answers, Harry. It may seem daunting now, but we'll find them."

"I don't know what I'll do if anything happens to you, or Ron, or...or..." Harry choked before he could finish.

"Or Ginny?" Hermione asked softly. Harry looked down and nodded. "I...I'm sorry, Harry. It was a difficult decision you had to make, and it's not fair that you had to make it in the first place. I don't think there's really anything I can say that will make you feel better."

Harry looked up at her to see her staring off to the side. "You should talk to him." Hermione looked up. "He cares about you as much as you do about him."

"I...I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you do. You and Ron are my best friends. Do you think that I wouldn't notice the looks you give each other when you think the other isn't paying attention?"

"He...I...he looks at me?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, and not in the annoyed, will-Hermione-ever-say-something-not-quoted-from-a-book way, either."

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "Oh."

"And do you think I wouldn't notice how close your sleeping bags are to each other each night?"

"Wha-no-they-nothing's happened!" Hermione sputtered.

Harry laughed. "I know nothing's happened. I'd actually be a little unnerved if something did happen while I was sleeping five feet from the two of you. I'm just pointing out that you two have been rather close since the funeral."

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. Honestly, Harry, what would be the point right now? We're entering the most dangerous time of our lives. I really don't know if now's the best time to try to strike up any kind of relationship."

Harry shook his head. "I wonder if there's a time when it's more important." When Hermione gave him a confused looked, he continued, "Voldemort preys on our fear. Absolute fear. The day where he makes us fear to even love is the day he wins, and the day there's nothing left to fight for."

Hermione glanced down at her tea. "I feel like we've had to do so much growing up in such a short time. We should be thinking about enjoying the summer and looking forward to the next school year, not trying to figure out how we're going to defeat the greatest evil of our age."

"Which is why it is just as important for us to hang onto the things we love. We cannot allow Voldemort to dictate how we live our lives."

"So why'd you break up with Ginny then?" Harry's face darkened and he sat back. "I'm sorry, Harry, I know you had your reasons and you feel that they are good ones. But for someone who's talking about not letting Voldemort keep us from falling in love, you seem to be doing your best to let him do just that."

"I'm keeping her safe. If I had my way, you and Ron would be far away from me too."

"Well, we're not, and we're not going to be. And I know you didn't ask my opinion, but I don't think you should keep her away, either."

Harry looked down. "Life would not be worth living if I lost the three of you."

"You're risking losing one of us by not living your life right now." Harry looked up at her. Hermione saw his eyes were beginning to moisten. "Here, let me help you with breakfast," she sighed, standing up and collecting the tea cups.

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"When d'you reckon we should go home?" Ron asked later that day. He and Harry were in the midst of what felt like their hundredth game of wizard's chess (the pieces were feeling particularly mutinous and were threatening to strike a truce with each other and attack both Harry and Ron). Hermione was scanning through the books she had brought along for any clues as to where they might look for the remaining Horcruxes, though even that task had been repeated numerous times.

"Depends. How soon can you pack?" Hermione and Ron stopped to look at Harry. "We're not really getting anything accomplished," he explained. "The only reason I came back is because of a promise I made to Dumbledore. But our resources here are extremely limited. We need to be where we have access to more than just a few books and our own theories. Besides, we haven't seen anyone in three weeks. Hermione should go visit her parents. The chances of that may be few and far between."

"Where do you think we should go?" Hermione asked. "Grimmauld Place?"

Harry sighed. "I've thought about that. But I don't know how safe that would be."

"Dumbledore was the secret keeper, Harry. The secret died with him."

Harry nodded. "I know. The problem, though, is that someone knows where Grimmauld Place is, outside of the Order."

Ron piped in. "Snape, right? But who cares about that git?"

"I do. I want to find him, but I'm not ready for that, not yet. He may not be able to tell others where the Black house is, but he can lead them to outside of it." Harry shook his head. "No, Grimmauld Place is too risky."

"Okay, so that's out. Where does that leave us?"

Harry scratched his head. "For now, I was thinking the Burrow. At least until we find someplace more suitable."

Ron brightened up. "Hey, that's a great idea! What place could be more suitable than that?"

"Someplace where I'm not endangering at least a dozen people." One more so than the rest, he thought.

Ron scowled. Hermione looked unsure. "I don't know," she said. "Your connection with the Weasleys is well known. Plus, the Death Eaters know all of the Weasleys are part of the Order."

"Not all of the Weasleys," Ron muttered.

Harry ignored him. Standing up, he began pacing around the room. "That doesn't mean that they're not safer away from me. I'm the focus of Voldemort. Right now, that will be all he cares about. With Dumbledore out of the way, there's not a whole lot standing between me and him. The faster we find and destroy the Horcruxes, the better off we are. The problem is that one, we don't know where they are, and two, we don't know how to destroy them." Harry sighed. "I don't want to be at the Burrow longer than I have to."

"We'll figure it out, Harry," Hermione said. "The answers may not be clear now, but I think that we'll find it to be more obvious once we find them." Harry gave her a dubious look. "Think about this," she continued. "How did you know to stab the diary with the fang of the basilisk?"

Harry thought a moment. "I don't really know. A part of me was filled with a rage that Tom was getting away with this and wanted to lash out at whatever I could get my hands on. At that point in time, I could get my hands on the fang and Tom's diary."

Hermione thought a moment. "Maybe subconsciously you know how to destroy each one, but it doesn't become apparent until you are in the possession of it."

Harry thought about this. "I'm not sure if that's it. If that's true, then I would think that I would also know what they are and where they are at."

"Well, it's something to keep in mind, at least." Hermione closed her book and stood up. "But I do think that leaving as soon as we can may be the best thing we could do right now, and the best place to go to would be the Burrow. How are you planning to get there? Neither you nor Ron have your Apparating license yet."

"Well, I think the best way would be Floo. We wouldn't have to leave the house, and the network is pretty untraceable."

Hermione looked unconvinced. "How, exactly, are we to travel the Floo Network without any powder? Last I checked, your aunt and uncle did not stock any. Besides, how on earth do you plan on getting their fireplace connected to the Network?"

Harry opened his trunk and pulled out a bag. In it was the familiar gray-colored powder used for traveling between fireplaces. "I nicked some from Hogwarts before we left. Grabbed three handfuls, in case we had to run off in a pinch. And I have a feeling that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley probably had the house connected temporarily, in case of an emergency."

"Well, stealing aside," Hermione said, glaring at Harry, "don't you think your relatives would have something to say if we just marched downstairs with our trunks packed, waved good-bye, and vanished in a green flame in their fireplace?"

Harry grinned. "How else can I properly say good-bye for the last time? If we're lucky, we might be able to get off a hex or two before leaving."

Hermione opened her mouth to object, but quickly clamped it shut. "I suppose they would probably have it coming." She stuffed her book into her trunk and began to roll her sleeping bag. She looked up and Harry and Ron, who were staring back at her. "Well? Are you packing or what?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Ron shrugged and began to pack his chess set away. Harry started packing his belongings into his trunk, preparing to leave Number Four Privet Drive for the last time.

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In the end, there was no need to worry about how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon reacted to two wizards and a witch disappearing through the Floo. As they were packing, there was a knock on the door. Harry opened the door to find Uncle Vernon standing there to announce that they (they being Aunt Petunia, and Cousin Dudley) were going out to celebrate Dudley's 17th birthday, and that they (they being Harry, Ron, and Hermione) were to stay in Harry's room and not, under any circumstances, use any of the nonsense that they use at that good-for-nothing school, or else they (they being someone who might want to actually listen to Uncle Vernon rant) would hear of it. Before Harry could say anything, Uncle Vernon turned around and marched down the stairs. A second later, the front door slammed. Harry walked down to the living room and watched as the Dursleys pulled out of the driveway and drove away down Privet Drive.

He turned around and saw Ron and Hermione looking at him from the stairway. "All right, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose a part of me should feel bad that I'll probably never see them again. But to tell the truth, I don't feel anything. I don't feel happy that I'll never see them again. I don't feel regret that we never got along in the first place. I just don't feel anything."

"It's okay, Harry." Hermione said, reassuringly. "This is probably for the best, anyways. The last thing we really want is a confrontation where someone ends up being hexed and then the Ministry shows up screaming about underage use of magic."

Harry nodded. "Yeah I guess you're right. Are you two about packed?"

"I just have a few more books to gather up," Hermione answered. "Ron and I can bring your trunk down, if you want to look around one last time." Harry thought a moment and then nodded. "Go ahead and send Hedwig out and tell her to stay at the Burrow. Don't write any messages, just in case." As Ron and Hermione went back upstairs to finish, Harry began to look around for the last time.

It was an odd feeling. He quite expected to feel nothing, as he did when the Dursleys left. But he found that, despite the scores of bad memories, he still felt some attachment and sadness that this was it. As he walked around, he realized that it wasn't so much the house that made him feel odd, but it was the cupboard.

As he came closer to it, he thought of the day almost exactly six years ago that began to change his life forever. The day that he received his very first letter from Hogwarts. From anybody, actually. He could never have dreamed that something as innocent as that would seem to trigger the events that had led him to this very day. If not for that letter, he never would have gone to Hogwarts; he never would have learned about magic, he never would have met Ron, or Hermione, or Ginny...

Harry felt a pain stab him in the heart. The thought of never meeting Ginny left him cold and aching. He stubbornly forced her out of his mind. If he felt like this away from her, he thought to himself, how was he going to hold up when he'd be near her at the Burrow? It would probably be at least that; the truth was, Harry had no idea whatsoever where they would go from there. He also had doubts about finding the Horcruxes in general. It was not fear, but rather ignorance; he knew very little about Tom Riddle and where he might have hid them. The only one who seemed to know anything about Tom Riddle was dead.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He didn't want to think about that yet. There were still a few happy days ahead of him; now was not the time to dwell on the nightmares to come. He looked at the cupboard door once more. Shaking his head and smiling sadly, he rested his hand on the door for a moment, then turned his back and walked away.

A few minutes later Ron and Hermione had the trunks in the living room as Harry started the fire. After Harry pulled out the bag of Floo powder from his trunk, Hermione shrunk each of the trunks down to the size of a small toaster. Harry opened the bag and held it out to Hermione. She took a handful and approached the fireplace. She tossed the powder into the fire and watched as it turned bright green. She stepped into the furnace, clutching her trunk. "The Burrow!" she hollered, and in a puff of flame disappeared.

Ron stepped up next. He took his handful of powder from Harry and tossed it into the fireplace. "The Burrow!" he cried, and with another puff vanished.

Harry looked around the living room one last time. He smiled at the thought that the Dursleys finally had their wish of never having their life turned upside down again. He put his hand into the bag, but a sudden thought made him pull it back out. With a mischievous grin, he pulled out his wand and turned around.

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Five minutes after Ron had come stumbling through the Weasleys fireplace, Harry felt himself tumbling out. He stood up and brushed himself off, then looked up to find four Weasleys and a Granger staring at him. "Umm...hi?"

"Harry James Potter! What in the bloody hell took you so long? Did you think that we wouldn't be worried if you didn't come tumbling out right after Ron? Are you completely and utterly daft?" Hermione was practically red with rage. After a second, she looked around and saw four Weasleys and a Potter staring at her. "Well, it could have been serious," she added defensively.

"Honestly, you're starting to be scarier than my mum," Ron muttered.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, then quickly walked up to Harry. "Harry, dear, lovely to see you again. I'm so glad to see you three safe!" she exclaimed as she gathered him up in a hug. Harry stood there for only a second before he returned the embrace. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, it's good to see you too," he replied.

"Harry, my boy!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, stepping up and gripping Harry's hand in a firm handshake. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, thanks, Mr. Weasley, how are you?"

"I'm holding my own, Harry, as much as can be expected." Mr. Weasley's face turned serious, and, moving closer to Harry, whispered, "Harry, there's something that's been stumping us over at the office. Can you explain to me what purpose Muggles have of a 'chia pet'?"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley hollered. "The boy just arrived, leave him in peace. In fact, why don't you take their trunks to their rooms and enlarge them for them, since you seem to have nothing better to do?" Mr. Weasley looked sheepishly at his wife, then, flashing Harry a smile, took his trunk along with Ron's and Hermione's and trudged upstairs.

"Harry, are you hungry? You look like you haven't eaten in months! Give me a few minutes and I will fix you something to eat." In a flash, Mrs. Weasley marched off to the kitchen.

"What took you so long, mate?" Ron asked.

"Well, I was coming right behind you, but decided to leave the Dursleys a parting gift," Harry explained, a twinkle in his eye.

"Harry, what did you do?" Hermione looked as if she was ready to pounce on a lion.

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, I was thinking about all the times I seemed to turn their life upside down, and I thought it would be horribly inappropriate if I didn't leave them something to remember me by, as a way of showing my gratitude."

"What did you do?"

"I rearranged their furniture."

Hermione stared. "What?"

Ron piped in. "Oi! I know what you did! Brilliant, mate!"

Hermione turned to Ron. "What, exactly, did he do?"

"I put their furniture on the ceiling."

Hermione looked at Harry, fury building in her eyes. Before she could unload on them, they were interrupted by the sound of giggling.

Harry's heart leaped into his throat as he turned around. "Hi, Ginny," he said quietly.

Ginny's laughter subsided, and her look took a slightly more serious expression. "Hi, Harry," she replied. "Glad to see you're finally here."

"Um, sure, thanks, Gin." Harry's heart was pounding in his ears. "How have you been holding up?"

Ginny's expression soured at the question. "Don't worry about me, Harry. I'll survive The-Boy-Who-Lived." She shot Harry an angry look, and turned and walked out of the room. Ron looked at him. "You have the romantic personality of a brick," he said.

Harry glared, and was about to retort, when a blazing pain seared his forehead. He screamed and clutched at his scar as he fell to the ground. His eyes saw nothing but darkness, and his ears were muted. He felt numb all over. He tried to move but his arms and legs refused to obey. Harry started to panic, and it was then he heard a sound that pierced his soul.

There was laughter, a dark, sinister laugh. The voice spoke, "I can see you...and I can see her." Pain exploded all over his body, and his eyes were filled with a green light. Then darkness overwhelmed him again.