Soul of an Angel

Angel Phoenix, Soul of Healing

Sierra stirred, her head pounding. She felt the fire in her stomach spread and nervously fought it down, gripping the side of her bed in panic. She took a deep breath and held it, determined to stop the Change this time.

Sierra was sixteen today. All her friends had left school just that morning, bound for their homes for the Christmas holidays. Her own holidays were always spent at the school- she lived in a children's home the rest of the time. You know you cannot fight me forever, whispered a silky voice in her mind. I do not want to control you, Sierra. We are one and the same. I have the power to end your misery forever. I am Angel Phoenix, the Soul-

"Of Healing, yes I know," Sierra finished for her. She pushed away all thoughts of her transformation and picked up her Herbology book, lying on the table next to her bed.

Let me out, you miserable girl! Cried the voice, not even trying to be nice now. It is my time. You cannot hold me inside on your sixteenth birthday! You can't!

"Can't I?" Sierra fought the headache, finally collapsing facedown on her bed, burying her head in a cool pillow to escape the bright light lancing in through her windows. She flinched when there was a knock on the door and moaned when it continued, the sound like daggers to her already aching head. "Go away!" she shouted into her pillow. Apparently, the knocker hadn't understood that part.

The door opened.

"Oh, I... was looking for Hermione," the interloper said, seeing her lying on the bed. She sat up gingerly, squinting against the light.

"Hermione? She's not here. I think she went to the library." Sierra mentally kicked herself for sounding like such a dolt. She huffed her frustration by flinging herself again onto the bed after he'd left. They're all out of the dormitory. Let me out for five minutes, and your headache will go away.

This time Sierra replied the way she was supposed to. You know I can't do that. If one of them were to come back in and see me- us, I mean- everything would be ruined. I got into this school for a reason, and I intend to keep my secret until he graduates safely.

Silly girl. I can get rid of your pain. And you know that door locks.

I have no control over you when you are at full power, Sierra pointed out. She groaned again as another stab of pain shot through her head. Five minutes? She asked, somewhat plaintively. The voice was silent. Sierra sighed. "Oh, all right. But just for a little while."

She relaxed her control and felt the Change begin. First came the flames. They roared through her body and enclosed her within their warm embrace. When they finally subsided, Sierra looked at herself in the mirror, admiring her subtly different appearance. Gone were the long, dark robes that hid her. Instead, she wore a short red tunic, designed for freedom of movement. Around her waist was a belt of gold shaped like a mantling phoenix, complete with gleaming sapphires for eyes. About her neck was a thin chain of bright gold hung with a large ruby pendant. Her plain black shoes had been transformed into flat-soled white boots climbing to her knees, trimmed in a band of scarlet. Her strawberry-blond hair had been piled artfully, yet messily in a tail on top of her head, bedecked with strands of sparkling rubies and golden topaz. The final touch was a magnificently detailed and crafted tiara, shaped to match the phoenix at her waist, only eyes glowing red. Sierra's own eyes glowed the same shade for a short moment before returning suddenly to their normal crystal blue-grey. She stretched her arms and her wings spread completely. The white feathers veined and edged with crimson gave her a startling, dramatic look.

"Phoenix, I don't know why I notice my appearance more when you have control, but it is strange that I find myself rather pretty."

"Oh, don't be modest. We are beautiful," Phoenix replied, her voice echoing slightly. "I think I'm going to have a little fun, now that I'm here," she added, grabbing a spare cloak off the foot of the bed. She folded her wings tight against her body and threw the cloak over them. As it closed in the front, hiding her from view, Sierra spoke up.

"Please don't destroy anything."

"You aren't protesting?"

"I suppose not. After all, one does not turn sixteen every day, and I have been rather harsh with you lately."

"Try all your life, sweet pea," Phoenix answered. Sierra let it go. "So, how does the library sound?"

"I think I'd rather go outside. If we are indoors, we have to keep on this disguise, and our blood is already hot enough. The winter air will help cool us off, and we can take off my cloak before it incinerates." Phoenix laughed, the sound definitely echoing now.

"I suppose you're right, princess. And it is your birthday, so I'll humor you. Besides, you sent Ron to the library, so he won't be outside, right? You won't have to blush and stutter like a fool if you don't see him."

"That too," Sierra sighed. They set off, leaving the dormitory door open in case Hermione came back. They pushed past the portrait guarding the common room's entrance and trotted down the hall towards the stairs.

She had made it halfway down the stairs when they saw Ron, Hermione, and Harry coming up, chatting animatedly. Well, Harry and Hermione were, certainly. But Ron, between them, wasn't saying anything, only watching where they were going with a dreamy cast to his face.

"Oh, no!" Sierra moaned softly. Phoenix put a hand over her mouth.

"Shut up," she hissed. She ordered her legs to move, and they continued down the stairs. Ron looked up first and his jaw dropped.

"Wow, Sierra, you look great!" he said, interrupting his friends. They followed his gaze. Phoenix couldn't control the blush that rose to her cheeks. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear your hair up." He paused and frowned slightly. "Didn't I just see you, up in your room? Your hair was down then."

"I know. I put it up, to get it off my neck. It was hot upstairs, so I thought I'd go outside for a walk. You know, cool things off."

Heaven's Angels, Phoenix! Sierra cried silently. Are you trying to seduce him or get rid of him?

Either works for me, doll, Phoenix replied smoothly. She chuckled at Sierra's mental squawk of outrage.

"Did you want any company?" Ron asked eagerly. Harry nodded his support. Phoenix shrugged.

"Sure, if you want to come." Ron and Harry both nodded. Hermione shook her head.

"Sorry. I have to put these books in my trunk."

"We'll wait, if you want to come," Harry offered. Phoenix nodded. What are you doing, Phoenix? Sierra asked as Hermione ran up the stairs to the dormitory. I thought we were going to take this walk to cool off! I'm going to want control of my body back eventually, you know.

Oh, I know, darling. I just want to have some fun with your teenage hormones. Soul of Healing and all that. I'm going to heal your heart once and for all over this crush you have.

I know it wasn't him kissing me last night. It couldn't have been. Ron and Harry are the only boys left in the dormitory, and they went to bed before I did last night. It was just a dream, Phoenix. Nothing more.

We'll see. Hermione had rejoined them and the four teenagers headed off down the front steps towards the lake. There was a nice breeze that effectively cooled Sierra's exposed face and hands. She longed for privacy so she could take off the heavy cloak and cool off completely, but she didn't dare reveal her secret, not even to these three.

"You studying for the O.W.L.S. yet, Sierra?" Hermione asked to break the ice. Sierra nodded absently.

"Been studying. All summer. I planned to study all holidays too, but not today. Today is a day for being outside." She smiled into the sun, and noticed that the light didn't hurt her eyes. Some Soul of Healing you are, Phoenix, if you can only fix my headaches when you're in control.

Oh, I can fix them anytime. I just use that as blackmail to get my 'fifteen minutes of freedom'.

It's 'fifteen minutes of fame,' Phoenix, not freedom. And you shouldn't blackmail me. You're essentially blackmailing yourself.

You are an old soul, Sierra. I give you that much. Maybe that is why you were chosen to host my as well. Both voices ceased as Ron spoke up.

"Look!" he exclaimed, pointing. A little bit away from where they stood was a small patch of snow-free ground situated underneath a tree. Growing there, completely contrary to all of nature's laws, was a single red rose. Sierra stared.

Phoenix smiled to herself. "Well, what do you know?" she murmured. "That's a sign, Sierra. The sign you were waiting for." How can that be a sign? And keep your voice down or they'll think we're crazy.

"Did you say something, Sierra?" Harry asked. He looked at her oddly. She shook her head, barely controlling her mirth. Then he smiled.

Phoenix's heart did a flip. Sierra's mental jaw dropped. Oh, Bright Angels! They both thought at once. We're in love with different men!

Ron looked at Sierra, his smile broad and happy. "Isn't it wonderful? This rose, just growing here, without a bush, in the sunlight, in the snow?" Sierra nodded and smiled.

"Um, excuse me for a moment, please." Without waiting for any response, she shot off into the woods like an arrow from a bow, the cloak flapping behind her like a bat's wings. Hermione stared.

"Is that a miniskirt she's wearing under that?" she asked, surprised.

Sierra stopped, finally, panting a bit. The black cloak fell around her and she tore at it angrily. It landed on the snow and she gratefully stretched her wings out. Phoenix's mind bubbled up beneath hers, tired and quiet.

"I think I'm done for today," she said, her voice echoing oddly again. Sierra yawned in response and covered her mouth. "Wake me again when you need me." Sierra felt Phoenix's presence fade, then virtually disappear, and she waited for her robes to return to normal.

They didn't.

She began to panic, and Phoenix's only response was to alert her memory. On her sixteenth birthday, the Chosen Soul will retain her true form permanently, subject to change only by the force of will of the Soul. On wings of Truth, the Souls declare. Sierra frowned as realization dawned. Then she began to panic again. If she was stuck like this, she couldn't go back up to the school! She would be discovered within a moment, and if not then, then certainly when she slept!

"Sierra?" called three voices. Hermione's sounded the closest. Sierra fumbled with her dropped cloak, pulling it awkwardly about her shoulders, trying to hide her appearance. "Sierra, where are you?" Hermione's face appeared between tow trees just in front of her and the brown eyes widened. "I thought you were wearing a miniskirt, but I hadn't been sure. Good Lord, aren't you cold?"

"Not really. This cloak is really warm, when I can get it to stay fastened," Sierra replied too quickly. She yanked it straight and the heavy cloth fell about her body once again. Hermione nodded and winked.

"Come on, supper is soon. Won't you want to change for that?" Sierra nodded mutely and followed the other girl through the trees and back to the two boys. They looked like they wanted to ask her something, but Hermione whispered something to them and they closed their mouths, trudging up the hill to the school in silence.

Fortunately, none of them seemed to noticed the fact that Sierra was walking rather lightly on top of the loose snow. She stared at her feet in surprise. This had never happened before...

Sierra was glad when they finally entered the school. They climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower and Harry spoke the password. Sierra flew past him up the stairs to the dormitory. Once there, she locked the door and threw off the cloak. She still wore the scarlet tunic, white boots and jewelry. Her wings sparkled like glitter when she moved into a shaft of sunlight. The light blinded her for a moment and she saw pictures beginning to form.

The old man stood at the window, looking out at the falling snow. The young girl sat on a stool in front of his large desk, watching him nervously.

"Phoenix, child, you know you are in danger. You are always in danger. The last Star has fallen, and there is no one left who can teach you. Not I, not your mother. But we... have found a spell, a spell that will let your Soul me taken to a different body, one Chosen Soul to receive your teachings and the Wisdom of the Angels." The girl watched him solemnly. "I know that doesn't sound like much of a future, darling child, but it is the best one your mother and I can offer you."

"I understand, Father," she said, her voice tinkling like a bell. "I can help others through this spell. That is what being the Soul of Healing is all about, isn't it?"

"A, my dearest girl. Yours is an old soul, a wise soul. Someday, when this is over, you will return to us, complete and whole, fully trained and able to live for all of time in Heaven, where you, and all my other Angels, belong."

The picture faded, and Sierra was surprised to find tears wetting her cheeks. She swung around in a panic as she heard what was going on outside the door. She grabbed for her cloak as the door swung open.

"Alohomora!" cried Hermione, unlocking the door and causing it to fly open. Then she stared Her mouth fell open in shock. "Sierra... are those... wings?" Sierra hastily covered herself. "Those are wings! Good God, what are you!?"

"Hermione, please, keep your voice down!" Sierra begged. "Yes, these are wings. I... I guess you could say that I'm the Chosen Soul. I... well, it's really pretty hard to explain. And it's a long story." Surreptitiously, Sierra reached out to her night table for her wand and brought it up behind her back. "I didn't mean for you to find out, Hermione. Really. And I didn't want things to happen this way. I'm sorry. Obliviate!" Sierra pointed her wand's tip at Hermione. A jet of silver steam shot out of it and wrapped around the other girl's head. Sierra quickly hid her wings and set her wand down. "Well, I didn't mean to lock the door on you, Hermione. I'm sorry." She crossed her fingers as the other girl frowned, looking past her.

"You put a Memory Charm on me," she accused. Sierra's jaw dropped.

"What!?"

"It was half-past six when I unlocked the door, now it's five minutes later. You put a Memory Charm on me!"

"I... I did it for your own good, Hermione..."

"You have secrets; I understand that. I respect privacy. But I'm your friend, Sierra. You shouldn't have to Memory Charm me whenever I run across one of your little privacies." Sierra's bottom lip trembled slightly. "I thought you could trust me. Hell, I thought I could trust you!"

"Please don't say that word," Sierra said softly, cringing against the sound of it.

"What word? Hell?"

""Yes. Please don't say it."

"What are you hiding from me, Sierra?"

"You don't want to know. Don't ask me that. Please don't ask me that."

"What are you hiding from me?" Sierra took a deep breath. She was a Chosen Soul. She could not lie to a friend without losing part of that soul. Slowly, very slowly, she pulled the cloak from her shoulders. Hermione gasped out loud. "You have... wings," she said, dazed. "I need to sit down." And she did, her legs buckling, dumping her onto Sierra's bed. "Are you a... and angel?"

Sierra smiled. Finally, answers she knew. "Yes, Hermione. Well, sort of. My soul is kind of sharing space with the soul of and Angel. She calls herself Phoenix, Soul of Healing."

"I read about the Angel Souls. There were five. They each created their own mythical creatures to be their companions throughout their eternal lives. Phoenix was the Soul of Healing, as you say. Then there were..."

"Unicorn, Soul of Purity; Dragon, Soul of Revenge; Pegasus, Soul of Remembrance; and Centaur, Soul of Strength. They each Fell from Heaven and were settled in their Chosen Souls until the Souls' sixteenth year, when they became a permanent part of the host. As you can see in this case. Phoenix is gone, but I'm left with her appearance. I can learn to change back, but..."

"It'll be hard. It requires a lot of power to undo the work of eternity."

"Tell me about it." Sierra looked across the room to the mirror once more. "And I can't let anyone see me like this. Things are spiraling out of control as it is. I..." she shook her head. The gold phoenix on her forehead caught the light gently.

"Well, you can't hide it. I mean... Sierra, you have wings." Hermione shook her own head. "That's a little hard to hide. I mean, you couldn't even hide it from me, even with a Memory Charm."

"You're smarter than most, Hermione. Only Heaven knows why you would read about the magic such as the Angel Souls, but..." Her wings again caught the light, blinding her with another vision.

"Honestly, Phoenix, why won't you just tell us?" asked a strong male voice. Phoenix turned her head and looked at the speaker. Centaur stood above her, his black hair falling across his forehead. His dark eyes sparkled with concealed amusement. She shook her head and a strand of brown hair fell across the tiara draped across her forehead.

"There is nothing to tell. You are all my dear friends, and we are the last of our kind." She shrugged. "Besides, you're the only one here right now. I wouldn't tell anything until all five of us are back."

"Unicorn is here. She's just out in the garden with that creation of hers."

"We never made fun of you for creating your half-man, half-horse companion. You can't make fun of her fro creating hers. Which, by the way, I find a lot prettier and friendlier than yours."

"Only because you're a girl and you can get close to it. That stupid beast won't let any men near it."

"Not men. Just those who aren't... shall we say, pure?" Phoenix felt a weight on her shoulder and looked up. The scarlet, orange and burnished gold feathers of her own companion greeted her eyes. "You're back! Did you find Dragon?" The phoenix nodded and tilted its head. When its beak opened slightly, Phoenix heard the most beautiful music. She smiled.

"So, you went with the theory that music heals the soul," Centaur remarked, leaning against the wall. "That is like you." He touched her cheek gently.

"Yes. Music is the balm of the soul, and phoenix music is the most beautiful there is." She stroked the soft feathers, and the mythical bird's sapphire eyes slitted in pleasure. Just then, Unicorn rushed in, her pale eyes sparkling, her brown hair mussed from the wind.

Sierra blinked rapidly to clear her eyes and sighed. At least now she knew who two of the other angels' Chosen Souls might be. Now she only had to verify it. She turned. "I can fold my wings against my back, and I can obviously wear a cloak over this," she said waving a hand at her outfit. "I don't know what to do about my hair."

"Don't do anything. I like it. It's rather pretty, actually." Hermione helped her put on a scarlet robe for supper and then changed from her own usual black to a pair of pale blue that matched her eyes. "There, now. Are you ready to go?"

"You actually wear your Muggle clothes under that in your free time?"

"They're comfortable," she said defensively, closing the door behind them. "Besides, if I wore my school clothes under them all the time, I'd wear holes in them. Especially considering the use I usually put them to." Sierra nodded thoughtfully. Maybe that was the reason Harry was the Boy Who Lived. Maybe that was the reason Harry, Ron, and Hermione got into so many adventures. Sierra knew about her shared Soul from birth, but if they didn't know... the Soul would be able to drive them to do great things without dying for the privilege. Angels only knew the number of times Phoenix had done the same thing, or tried to, rather.

Ron and Harry sat in armchairs in front of the fire in the common room. They both stood up when she and Hermione descended the stairs. The four pushed open the portrait guarding the entrance and went down the main stairs to the nearly empty Great Hall.

They walked in, and went straight to the front of the room where Professor Dumbledore sat speaking quietly with Professor Snape. Only four other students had opted to stay at school for the holidays: Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin sixth year; A Hufflepuff second year Sierra didn't know; Cho Chang, Ravenclaw seventh year; and, surprisingly, Ginny Weasley, who wasn't speaking to her brother or to Harry for some reason. Dumbledore looked up, a broad, welcoming smile on his face. His eyes met Sierra's and the smile became fixed. All the amusement leaked from his eyes. Sierra smiled weakly and took a seat between Ginny and Ron.

The food appeared, and Sierra helped herself to some fresh bread and cold salad. Dumbledore watched her eat. The others all ate until the food disappeared, then they began to stand up to go back to their dormitories.

Draco reached out an arm across the table to grab Sierra's, but Dumbledore spoke first. "Miss Montagne, I would like to see you in my office, please." She looked at him in surprise, then shrugged.

"Of course, Professor," she said. He stood and led her from the hall. Ron breathed a sigh of relief, and Draco shot him a glare, which the other pointedly ignored.

Sierra followed him, her mind, for once, blessedly free of worry. Maybe he had a message for her. Maybe he didn't. It was all the same to her right now. Dumbledore led her through the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office with a simple password ("Sugar Quills") and up the stairs to the actual room.

She looked around in awe and her eyes found the phoenix. She gasped and walked over to the sleeping bird. He opened one eyes to peer at her, and suddenly sat up straight and tried to force his way through the bars to her. She poked a finger through to him and he settled down, content to have her scratch his head gently. She looked up at Dumbledore, who had the oddest look on his face.

"I don't ever recall Fawkes taking to someone so quickly. You have a special connection, my dear. Sit down, please." She obeyed, taking her finger from the cage and taking the chair before his desk. "Now, Sierra, I have a few questions I'd like to ask you. Please answer them all in truth, to the best of your knowledge." She nodded. "Do you know the legend of the five powerful Angel Souls?" She nodded, suddenly having a vaguely bad feeling about where this is headed. "Do you know the identity of any of the five, or do you have a guess?" She prepared to shake her head and suddenly realized she was nodding. "Please, tell me your theory." She shook her head.

"I'd really rather not, Professor. Not until I'm sure."

"One more question, Sierra. May I see your wings?" Her jaw dropped. So he did know. "Don't look so surprised, child," he said, amusement making his eyes twinkle. "That tiara you wear is pretty noticeable, and I have read the same books your kind has written. May I see your wings?" Sierra shrugged off the scarlet cloak and spread her wings. The white feathers veined and edged in red reflected firelight and Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction. "Good, good."

"Pardon me, Professor, but what is good?"

"The color of your wings. They are the perfect mix." She looked at him in confusion and sat down again. "You don't know much about the Soul you are hosting, do you?" She shook her head wordlessly, waiting for him to continue. "That Soul is powerful magic. Were your wings entirely white, I would know that the Angel soul is far more powerful than your own and has overridden it. Were your wings entirely crimson, I would know that your human soul is far more powerful than the angel one and that you are drawing on the power to feel stronger. Those cases are both very dangerous situations for you." She gaped at him.

"Professor," she began, stumbling over her words. "I have visions sometimes. Visions in light. I think... I think I know who is the Chosen Soul for Unicorn and Centaur."

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger," he replied. Her jaw dropped even further. "It would even be logical for you to take the next step and assume that young Ron Weasley is Pegasus. My theory for many years is that the young Malfoy is housing Dragon within his body." Sierra sat straight at this. "And you, being Phoenix, the leader and most powerful of the five, you have resurfaced first. You will find that you cannot remove that tiara. If you do and you are without it, you will begin to grow ill. As Phoenix, you can also activate the other four Souls within their hosts."

"I have that much power?" Dumbledore nodded, smiling. He reached into his desk and pulled out a thick book bound in water and fireproof dragon hide. The front cover was encrusted with precious gems and emblazoned in gold was the title: The Powers That Be--In Heaven. She took it form him and cradled it in her arms.

"That rightfully belongs to you," he said. "Now, run along to your House and enjoy reading that." She hurried to do as she was told, nearly forgetting her cloak in her haste. She sheepishly picked it up and slung it about her shoulders, tying it securely in the front. She bid a short farewell to Fawkes and practically fled out the door.

She reached the portrait and had to think hard to remember the password. "Phoenix feather," she said, pleased with herself. The portrait swung out and she stepped through.

And immediately wished she hadn't. Ginny and Ron stood in the very center of the common room, at least six feet apart, and shouted at each other angrily. She sighed and walked further in. Both stopped immediately, and looked sheepish. Sierra came to the conclusion that they had been arguing about her. Or rather, Ginny had argued, Ron had defended. That was usually how things ended up between them. Ginny swallowed hard and bolted up the stairs to her dormitory. Ron shuffled his feet and looked at her while Harry and Hermione whispered together in a corner.

"That was lovely," Sierra remarked. "A little bit louder, and they might have heard you down in Slytherin." Ron smiled awkwardly, then grinned. Sierra smiled in response.

"So, what did Dumbledore want, Sierra?" asked Hermione from the corner. Sierra held up the book.

"Wanted to give me this." Hermione's jaw dropped.

"That... that's... the most powerful, rare, and magical book in existence. Written by angels."

"You might say it's a family heirloom," Sierra replied. She sat down on the sofa in front of the fire, noticing that the others had removed their robes and were wearing normal clothes underneath. She refused to remove her own. She settled herself comfortably and opened the cover to the first page. A gasp escaped her lips and she slammed the book shut, her mind dizzy.

The picture showed her, in her human form, sitting at a table with none other that Draco Malfoy, wearing an eye-smarting shade of green, Hermione, wearing pale blue, Harry wearing brown, and Ron, wearing gold. The legend beneath the picture had said, Behold the Angel Souls of Heaven!