Knight of Angels

Chapter Three: Alarm

 There was nothing to do.

 Phoenix was desperately bored.

 It was not that the Grangers had not been kind. They recognized enough of the danger they were in, and slipped Phoenix quietly into their daily life. Phoenix didn’t think they understood quite what they were facing. If Voldemort or a large group of Death Eaters came to 16 Crossling, she would be able to do little more than give Hermione and her parents time to get to Hogwarts. If the Dark Lord took destroying Harry Potter’s friends seriously, Phoenix might be lucky to get away herself.

 But nothing had happened yet. The place was festering with wards and alarms. The wards were concealed, and the concealers were concealed so that the reek of magic would not show to any curious wizarding passerby.

 Many people would have been content, even happy, to have nothing to do and be able to spend their time as they liked. It was driving Phoenix absolutely insane.

 Since she had turned ten, she had been studying magic intensively. First she studied high-level, illegal spells and jinxes. Then she had had a secret to keep from everyone from Professor Dumbledore down to her roommates, although the work burden was light. Only a week ago, she had been studying high-level counter-charms to the illegal spells and jinxes she had been working on the year before, illegally.

 With nothing to do except come out and eat the sugar-free meals three times a day (tea was an informal affair that consisted of one taking what one wanted to eat sometime around three ‘o clock, since Mr. And Mrs. Granger were generally out and at work then), Phoenix felt like her mind was grinding to a halt.

 She could take one of Hermione’s books. They weren’t magical for the most part, but it couldn’t hurt to read some Austin or Kipling.

 You’ve been putting it off for too long, a nagging little voice said in her head.

 The wandless magic. The idea frightened her. Professor Dumbledore had seemed to think it was all right to use...but the Headmaster couldn’t know all the possible dangers.

 Few people had ever been able to use it, he had said. One was Lord Voldemort. Another was her. It was very possible that using wandless magic would take her one crucial step closer to becoming one of the Dark magic workers she was fighting.

 It was a frightening idea. Very.

* * * * *

 Hermione peered across the breakfast table at Phoenix. When she’d first come here, she’d seemed energetic and bubbling, if a bit disheveled from using Floo powder. But that energy had drained away, and she seemed paler, smaller, worried, and frightened.

 Everyone was frightened. Wizards more so than Muggles, but the unexplained deaths of over a hundred ordinary British folk had caused waves of fear about unapprehended mass murderers. It had been said by one person on the Muggle news that some thought the unapprehended Sirius Black (the Ministry of Magic had never told the Muggles Sirius had been found innocent) was behind all of this. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at that theory. The wizarding community was terrified.

 What is the matter with you, Phoenix?

 The girl, after spending half a day setting up alarms, had stayed in the guest room almost the entire time she had been here. There was no explanation for her lethargic behavior, except the epidemic of fear sweeping the two worlds.

 “Phoenix,” Hermione said, catching her after breakfast as her parents were in the hall. “What’s wrong?”

 “Nothing.”

 She was obviously lying. “No, really. Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”

 “Nothing’s wrong,” Phoenix repeated.

 “You’re not fooling me. You spend your time staring off into space. You look like a wraith. You look tired, and worn out.”

 “Those wards took a lot out of me,” Phoenix said evasively.

 “They couldn’t have drained you that much. You can perform the Imperius Curse, which takes the power of two times that many wards, without tiring. I don’t think I’d be worn out just from setting alarms. Something’s bothering you, Phoenix. It’s not going to get better by brooding on it yourself.”

 “I think it will,” Phoenix said, flicking her wrist. Her eyes, before a dead brown, held a few eerie red sparks that chilled Hermione to the bone.

 There was a shimmer in the air, not unlike the light that accompanied a spell. But Phoenix’s wand was in her room, and so was Hermione’s.

 “So tell me again why they made a copy of Star Wars? Isn’t it the same as the original one was?” Phoenix asked.

 “To make money, I guess,” Hermione said. She was confused now. “But aren’t you really do look--”

 The shimmer increased to a glittering haze.

 “Yes, to make money,” Hermione said. “And there’s some new bits too.”

 “I saw the first one once,” Phoenix said, an odd smile creeping onto her face. “I don’t think they could improve it.”

 “You never know,” said Hermione. “You never know how anything is until you try it.”

 “Never indeed,” Phoenix whispered.

* * * * *

 Her breathing coming a bit fast, Phoenix slipped away from Hermione and up to her room. She had done it. The magic had come born of a desperation to keep her thoughts safe, and it had worked. The power was tempting...so easy to use.

 But now she really did feel a bit worn, as though she had been running or stayed awake too long. She recalled an essay on a wizard or witch’s need for a wand. The wand focused the inner magic of a witch or wizard by coupling it with that of exotic magic, the magic of fantastic beasts. The wand filtered magic, tapping only a bit of the power reservoir. But I’m not focusing. I’m just doing. Maybe that’s why the Memory Charm was a sparkle instead of a jet of light.

 The magic hadn’t felt bad, or Dark, or evil. It had seemed perfectly natural. Normal. Like it wanted to be used.

 She focused on a pen lying on a table. Her eyes closed, and her face grew flushed with concentration.

 Very slowly, the pen rattled and rose an inch into the air.

 Phoenix grabbed it, and ran her fingers over it’s smooth plastic surface.

 Maybes.

* * * * *

 Phoenix flipped around a corner, Hermione close behind her. A summer breeze teased her damp elflocks of hair and flapped her loose shirt behind her.

 Having finally pushed away her concern over using wandless magic, Phoenix had begun to enjoy a magicless summer. Just like before.

 Today she had gone with Hermione to a large community pool. Hermione had taken the time to talk with pre-Hogwarts friends, although she seemed to be feeling a bit awkward about it. As soon as Hermione had introduced her as a cousin, Phoenix had jumped out of the endless heat and talk and jumped into the pool.

 Running was very different from flying or Apparating. On foot, one learned so much more about distances and everything between Point A and Point B.

 Something jabbed at a corner of her mind.

 Surprised, Phoenix stopped and traced the uncomfortable tingling feeling back. It was coming from one of the alarms.

 “What’s wrong?” Hermione panted, stopping beside her.

 “Stepped on a rock,” Phoenix lied, pretending to rub her bare heel. There was no point in getting Hermione upset now. She’d have to go take a look around before she told the Grangers. The alarms could have been set off by any passing wizard, or even an owl carrying magical equipment. And the touch was faint and not the blast an alarm going of should have been.

 “Oh,” Hermione said. “We’re making record time home!”

 “Yeah,” Phoenix said. “Let’s keep it up!”

 As soon as Hermione had stepped into a shower, Phoenix pulled out her wand and Apparated to the alarm zone. It was a woodland, with no people. There would be lots of animals, though.

 Phoenix went Merlin and listened to the network of birds around her. Have you seen anything? She sent out.

 The various birds ignored her, although quite a few of them turned to look at her. Most of them flew away. She was a hunting bird, after all.

 Friends, I must know if any humans have come to your woods today. I will not hurt you. I just want an answer.

 The birds ignored her.

 Even in her bird form, Phoenix’s eyes started to dance with angry red specks. Disgusted, Phoenix winged up and swept down on a sparrow who was pecking at the ground. I will not eat you. I am not hunting now. I want you to tell me whether you have seen humans in your woods.

 The sparrow began to think in a gibbering flurry of images. There was a gardener, a scout, a family, several hunters, men in black, cars--

 Stop! Phoenix commanded, and sent the picture of the black robed men back to the little bird. Tell me more.

 Today. Towards the sun. Angry. Bad. Black. Dark. Scary. Like you--not like you. Not long ago. Moving.

 The sparrow, flighty and nervous as it was, told her enough to put together a coherent story. Death Eaters had been here today, going west. Towards the Grangers. They had frightened the bird, and the men had been angry. That was hardly surprising. It was the like you--not like you that confused Phoenix. Maybe it had been the magic that made them like her. What made them not like her?

 Thank you, little brother, Phoenix said gracefully. She let the bird go, unclenching her strong talons.

 If the sparrow’s story was true, she had to get back to the Grangers quickly. But sparrows were rather stupid creatures. Angry, moving, black, bad, and scary could have been a dog to a bird, with a human walking it.

 With a screech, she launched herself above the trees. There was a hawk some distance away. Phoenix picked out the bird’s territory from it’s mind. The patch of woodland was in his hunting area.

 Wing sister! She called, using the instinctive bird-speech that accompanied her Animagi form.

 Curiosity came back at her from the hawk, and Phoenix saw it turn in the distance and come closer to her.

 Have you seen these? Phoenix sent the picture of Death Eaters the sparrow had given her, hoping for more information from the far more sophisticated hunting bird.

 The response was positive. The hawk sent back the feelings of fear it had had when the men had walked by. Bad. Evil.

 Thank you, wing sister. With conformation, Phoenix plunged to the ground and reverted back to her human form. She pulled out her wand and Disapparated with a *pop*.

 “Hermione!” she screamed. “Get out of the shower and get dressed now!”

 “What?”

 Phoenix plummeted around the hallway from her room. The bathroom door was locked, so she smacked it with it’s wand. The door shattered. “Whoops.”

 “What was that?” Hermione gasped, poking her head out of the shower curtain. “Phoenix, what are you doing?”

 “Death Eaters are coming,” she explained rapidly. “Get out of the shower. Accio clothes!” A baggy blue sweatshirt, jeans, underclothes, and sneakers bounced down the hall. “Get dressed.”

 “My parents--”

 “They’re in the yard. Get dressed and get the Portkey, meet them in your dad’s office. It doesn’t have any windows. I want you to get out of here now. The Death Eaters did a good job at muffling themselves--I wasn’t sure whether they’d really come near here or not.”

 She didn’t stop to explain anything else to Hermione, and sprinted outside to the hot yard.

 “Mr. and Mrs. Granger, you need to come inside now,” Phoenix said.

 “What’s the matter, child?” Mrs. Granger asked.

 “Something’s wrong. You need to go. Meet Hermione in the office.”

 A blast of alarms hit her all at once. Death Eaters were definitely coming--and they were close.

 Hermione’s parents were both out of their lounge chairs now, and Phoenix ushered them into the house. Hermione, white-faced, was already in the office and holding an envelope in front of her. “Phoenix, are you taking the Portkey with us?”

 “No, I’ll Apparate. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, hold Hermione.”

 The two of them obeyed. “You will be all right, Phoenix dear?” Mrs. Granger fretted, biting her lip.

 “I’ll leave as soon as you’re gone.”

 “Ready Mum, Dad?”

 “Yes dear.”

 They don’t understand what they’re running away from.

 The Granger family disappeared.

 Phoenix left the office, and began cleaning the house. It had to look like the Grangers were merely out to dinner. She hid the lemonade glasses away, and dried the bathroom completely (magically, of course). All the doors had to be locked, and there were some gardening tools out in the yard that she’d have to move by hand.

 “Crucio.”

 She screamed, and dropped the rake.

 “Where are they?” a Death Eater asked, lifting the curse. “What did you do with Potter’s friend?”

 There were three black-cloaked figures. One was tall, one of medium build, and one rather stocky.

 “Beyond your reach,” she gasped, eyes now crimson beacons with battle-light in them. “Consio Nox!”

 The tall one tried to put up a shield, but her spell hit him hard and he fell, unconscious, to the grass.

 The stocky and medium ones stepped back, and then moved into a more aggressive stance. “Imperio!” the stocky one said.

 Sit.

 The curse broke.

 “Pyrai!” she chanted, and scarlet light hit the other man.

 “Imperio!” the stocky man repeated.

 Tell us where they are.

 “Really!” Phoenix said. “It isn’t going to work!”

 The stocky man looked at his companion, who was trying desperately to find a counter-curse to put out the fire she had engulfed him in. In that split-second, Phoenix put up a Muggle-repelling charm to keep passerby from noticing any screaming or lights from behind the garden wall.

 The flames engulfed the luckless man. He died.

 “Informio!” Phoenix cried. Are there any more of you?...

 “No,” the Death Eater said. “The others are elsewhere.”

 An icy hand clenched in her stomach. Where?...

 “Attacking Harry Potter.”

 And the Dark Lord?...

 “With them.”

 “Dammit!” she shouted. “Consio Nox!” Her final opponent, having served his purpose, hit the ground also.

 Voldemort and probably a fair number of his followers, were attacking Harry. She had to tell.

 “Mobilicorpus!” the two Death Eaters flew together in a heap. She grabbed their hoods and Apparated to the Auror’s Institute’s Waiting Room.

 It was a bare room, and it was a long way into the Institute complex. Magically amplifying her voice, she shouted down the corridor, “There’s an attack! A full force attack against Harry Potter!”

 Loud shouts bounced down the hallway, and quite a few choice swearwords. The sound of running feet rang down the stone.

 “What is it?” asked the first one there, a burly man named Oberion. “Oh, you.”

 “Me,” she said. “There’s an attack on Harry Potter. One of them--” she pointed at the crumpled Death Eaters, “--told me.”

 “Ashwinders! Phoenix, what happened?” It was Anderi, looking out of breath and shocked.

 “My wards went off. I got the Grangers out. One of them hit me in the back while I was closing up their house. This isn’t all of them. The rest are attacking Harry Potter. Now I think.”

 There was more swearing. Anderi’s voice, magically enhanced, rose over the rest. “All of you, to Crickhollow now! Ildeina--get the prisoners locked up!.” The room filled with little *pop*s of Disapparation, and the marching orders went down the hall and into the main complex. “Phoenix, hold on,” Anderi added.

 “What?”

 Anderi moved toward her, pushing at a person who suddenly Disapparated and losing her balance for a moment. “Apparate to Hogsmeade. Get Professor Dumbledore.”

 “Why me?”

 “You’re our only force Animagi. You’ll get across the grounds faster than any of us. Get Dumbledore, and probably some of the staff. Move!” Anderi, with one final bellow down the passage, Disapparated as well.

 Phoenix took a breath and followed suit. She was trembling a bit in Hogsmeade. Anderi was probably right about not trying too much dueling and Apparating. Blurring into bird form, she screeched and flew towards the grounds.

 Before the school gates, a blast of wind battered her. It was a cold, furious, and unnatural wind. Like someone was trying to stop her. Someone probably was, dammit. Another gust of wind hit her, and she dropped gracelessly into a tree. Agitated and worried, she tried to fly back into the wind, which was even stronger now.

 Another mind brushed hers, doubtless having honed in on her emotions, which were probably radiating into the collective bird-awareness for at least five kilometers. Fawkes.

 Fawkes? Get Professor Dumbledore! Harry’s in danger!

 There was an alarmed whistle in her head. Fawkes was much easier to communicate with than common birds.

 Hoping Fawkes would be able to get Dumbledore out, she reverted to her human form and pulled out her wand. She was still in the tree, which was a mistake. “Serenus!” she shouted into the wind.

 The wind died down. Then it came back in full, shrieking madly. It pushed Phoenix back onto her branch, and then onto the ground. After a second of burning pain in her right arm, she blacked out.

* * * * *

 “Phoenix,” someone whispered urgently.

 She groaned, and forced her eyes open.

 It was Dumbledore, and Fawkes was hovering beside him. Her arm no longer hurt, although the rest of her right side was tingling.

 “What happened?” she asked.

 “I was rather hoping you could tell us. Fawkes got into quite an upset, and pulled me down here. Gale force winds were blasting the area outside the grounds, and you were lying on the ground with a broken arm, which has just finished healing.”

 And everything came rushing back.

 “Professor--Voldemort and the Death Eaters are attacking Harry! The Aurors are there, but--”

 Dumbledore straightened. “They won’t stand for long. Do you know Crickhollow?”

 “Yes,” Phoenix said.

 “Go to the main square. I’m sure you’ll be able to find the house Harry and Professor Black are staying in.”

 Dumbledore Disapparated.

 Phoenix took a quick glance a Fawkes, who shimmered and vanished also. With a deep breath and hoping she wasn’t too worn out to Apparate, she Apparated away to Crickhollow.

 She probably was exhausted. In Crickhollow, she collapsed to the ground in a gasping heap before the shock passed over her and she could regain the use of her legs. The combination of having the Cruciatus Curse on her, having thrown off the Imperius Curse twice (even if it was rather weakly cast), fighting a (probably) magical windstorm, breaking an arm, and Apparating across Britain three times within the space of half and hour had left her rather shaky. Phoenix felt weak, and tired.

 Crickhollow was really a very pretty place. It was a small town in Northumbria, green and full of trees. Now that she knew it was where Harry Potter was staying for the summers, she had a hunch about why this out-of-the-way place was on the Auror’s Apparation Locations list.

 In the north, there was a haze of unnatural light. Feverently she hoped someone had remembered to put up a Muggle-repelling charm around the area of the house, or the Ministry of Magic would be working overtime for days.

 The house--Harry’s house was easily distinguished from the air in bird form by several small fires and jets of light, even if it was a good ten minute’s flight--was in the middle of a woody area. Luckily, there were no other buildings or people nearby.

 Fawkes was brushing her mind again. The contact with the phoenix was rejuvenating, and had her feeling a little better in minutes. She flew at top speed towards the house, relieved that there were no more gales to deal with.

 A sudden hail of worry and anxiousness hit her from Fawkes. Images flashed of on small person running through the woods with Death Eaters chasing after them. At Fawkes’ command, Phoenix plunged into the woods.

 As she’d expected, there was Harry, a burst of spell-light flying past him as he ducked quickly. His hair was in complete disarray, in black ropes that dangled over his face and glasses, which were miraculously still on.

 Phoenix swooped onto a low branch overhead and transformed into a girl again. “Expelliarmus!” she said, taking careful aim at Harry’s pursuer.

 There was a shout as someone’s wand flew into a high branch somewhere. Harry looked up, and she nodded down at him before knocking out another Death Eater. Pulling her little-used Auror’s wand from her hair, she threw it to Harry, who caught it deftly.

 “What took you so long?” he called up at her.

 “Everything,” she replied, dispatching another dark-robed figure. “Plus a bit more. Where’s your wand?”

 “Didn’t have it when Sirius told me to start running,” he said, with a good, strong Disarming Charm.

 After they had disarmed and knocked out several Death Eaters (Harry had used a few jinxes that weren’t particularly useful but did distract their enemies), Phoenix went Merlin and got into contact with Fawkes. Are there any more of them? Fawkes sent a no. For the first time she noticed that her shirt was torn at the hem, and quickly patched it up. “Are you all right?” she swinging down from her tree-branch.

 “Except for a few cuts, bruises, and being completely worn out, I’m fine.”

 Phoenix grabbed his arm (which did have a rather nasty cut on it) and poked it lightly with her wand. The cut disappeared, and she grabbed his other arm.

 “The Auror’s got here about the same time the Death Eaters did. Sirius sent me out with about three Aurors and told me to run. One got hit by a curse. One stayed to fight. I lost the last one.”

 “You shouldn’t have run. Voldemort’s coming.”

 Harry looked up sharply, and stopped running his fingers through a rather tousled mop of hair.

 “I want to get you out of here. Well, I’m sure Dumbledore and the Aurors would want you out of here, but I’m probably the one who’s going to get you out of here.”

 “How?”

 “I can Apparate with you.”

 “Really? I thought only really strong...well, that does fit you, doesn’t it.”

 She healed the last cut and grabbed his arm with her non-wand hand. “Ready? Think of Hogsmeade.”

 “Where?”

 “The train station. One...two...three!”

 They arrived in the empty train station without splinching themselves. The sky was rather dark by now, and a few street lights were on. “You don’t happen to be an Animagi, do you?” Phoenix asked.

 “No,” Harry said.

 “Oh well then. I’ll have to take you up to the school then.” She smiled slightly. “I’m going to turn you into a twig, and carry you.”

 “A twig?” he repeated incredulously.

 She shrugged. “Birds aren’t designed for carrying really heavy loads. You won’t feel anything as a twig anyway.”

 Harry sighed. “Fine then.”

 Phoenix, giggling in spite of herself, turned Harry into a thin, whippy twig and grasped him in hands which quickly became claws.

 This time, she reached Hogwarts without incident. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was pacing on the front steps. She didn’t notice the little bird swooping down behind her, but did wheel around when the bird became a girl and Harry Potter appeared out of almost nothing.

 “Harry Potter, safe and sound,” Phoenix said, breathing heavily after yet another fast flight. Her wispy straw-blond hair hung in tangled locks all over her face, with her wand-hair tie gone.

 “Take this,” said Madam Pomfrey, thrusting a beaker under Phoenix’s nose. “It’s an energizer.”

 “Thank you,” Phoenix said, draining the liquid quickly. A warm feeling swept through her body. The weariness of flights and spell-casting drained away, and so did the angry red glints in her eyes, which reverted to a stormy, determined grey. “I should go back now.”

 “Be careful,” Harry told her.

 “I’ll be as careful as I can be.” She launched herself off the steps in a quick transformation and screeched back a farewell.