The Revival of the Phoenix

Chapter 2

Darkness Falls

With the instincts consequential of her Auror training, Hermione had whipped out her wand and Disapparated. Ron followed suit.

It was a horrible sight. The dragons were flying low, shooting out bursts of flame at the section of the stands closest to them. The masked figures had jumped off, and each of them was running towards a section of the crowd.

Petrified with terror, very few people had the presence of mind to Disapparate on the arrival of the dragons. It was too late now. An Anti-Disapparition Jinx held everyone to their places.

"Aurium Appelacio!! " Hermione yelled, and a fiery red jet of light burst from her wand, and reformed itself into a huge Omega sign in the sky. The incantation was supposed to summon Aurors to the stadium, but nothing happened.

"What the... GINNY! Help the others handle the dragons. Conjure the strongest Flame-Repelling Charm you can. I'll handle this! GO!!"

Ginny hesitated for a moment, and then ran off towards Ron and Neville.

Hermione took a deep breath. It was an extremely complex charm, but there wasn't much time. "Draconis Tuercollus!!!" Nothing happened. She watched in panic as a jet of flame narrowly missed Gilderoy Lockhart, who made a wild swipe at the masked figure riding it.

"DRACONIS TUERCOLLUS!!! DRACONIS TUERCOLLUS!!!!!!" After what seemed to be an eternity, an insidious whirlpool of air burst out of the tip of her wand. Her fingers immediately began to tremble with the strain. But she steeled herself resolutely. Any moment now...

It worked. As if they were being rewound on tape, each of the twenty dragons froze instantly, flipped over upside down (thus hurling the gray figures off them), and slowly but surely began to be pulled towards the gigantic vortex that seemed at least ten times stronger than any hurricane.

Hermione was now holding on to her wand with every remaining ounce of strength she could muster. Seven dragons were in... twelve... seventeen... nineteen...come on... and just as the last dragon, an Antipodean Opaleye, was sucked into the whirling tornado, Hermione, drained of all her energy, collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

*

The now empty stadium flickered into view. Hermione could dimly make out five people silhouetted against the menacing night sky, where the ruby-red omega still glittered innocently.

"Hermione?" said Ron's anxious voice.

She sat up gingerly. Her forehead was throbbing painfully. "Facilius." She murmured, and the pain disappeared. She looked up, and she saw Ron's concerned face, Neville's somewhat frightened expression, Dean Thomas' and Lockharts' shaken countenances and a very grim looking Lee Jordan.

The giant scoreboard had been burnt down and was now lying in a crumpled heap on the ground. An entire section of the stands had melted away. Hermione tried to turn around, but a splitting pain down her side made her stop dead. She winced.

Ron and Neville helped her up, and she stood tenderly on her feet, brushing dirt off her robes.

"What happened?"

It was Dean Thomas who answered. "After you got rid of the dragons, those clowns began running towards the crowd. But Ginny got rid of the Anti-Disapparition Jinx, and everyone was out of here before you could say 'boo'. Anyway, that was when the..." his voice faltered for a second. That was when the Dementors arrived. " He went on, ignoring Hermione's gasp. "I guess the Ministry saw your Omega, Hermione. I wonder why the Aurors didn't show up though. So, anyway, when the Dementors came, the clowns panicked, and ran off. I can tell you, we had quite a job sending the Dementors back, they weren't too happy." He shuddered.

Hermione looked around. Something wasn't right. Then it hit her. "Where's Ginny?" she said.

Everyone exchanged puzzled looks. What with the destruction and the Dementors and everything, Ginny's absence had gone unnoticed. They looked around desperately.

Then, Neville emitted a shrill scream, and began running towards the remains of the scoreboard. The others followed him hurriedly, and watched as he leant over Ginny's limp body. He clutched at her wrist. When he looked up, Hermione felt her stomach plummet at the sight of his ashen face.

Neville began to tremble violently. When he spoke, it was in an unnaturally squeaky tone. "I think she's dead."

*

Albus Dumbledore was staring out of the window overlooking the lake. For more than a hundred and twenty years, he had called Hogwarts home. At a hundred and sixty, he was all what he had wanted to be, and more. Sometimes he wondered if that was a good thing.

He sighed, reminiscing on his most vivid memories. Being appointed headmaster, being appointed the head of myriad clubs, leagues and organizations, the rise of Voldemort...

He sighed again, as he remembered how much terror Voldemort had struck into the hearts of people around the world. He had torn apart the world by severing the seemingly indelible bonds of friendship. He had inflicted death, made it his trademark and torn apart families. Voldemort had been the bane of his very existence.

He remembered how he had fought Voldemort in 1997, and drained him of every power he possessed before he had allowed Harry to perform the Killing Curse on him. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. What had Harry done to deserve such a cursed life? How was he different from any other boy? He was different, Dumbledore told himself. He was destined to be the savior, and he felt a pang of sadness as he remembered how Harry had to shoulder burdens that were not dealt with by people five times his age. He imagined Harry, prowling around with Tonks, Snape and Moody, in the thick Sherwood Forest.

His thoughts went back to Voldemort. He remembered the incidents that had led to his rise. The many disappearances, inexplicable killings, strange sightings... the list was endless. And now, six years after Voldemort's death, the pattern was repeating itself. He kept trying to assure himself that Voldemort was dead; he had seen him die before his very eyes. Yet, he derived no solace, no shred of comfort from this perfunctory reiteration. Voldemort had done things no wizard could have dreamt of. Was it so impossible that he had found a way to return from Beyond the Veil?

His normally benign eyes took on a steely glint. He was in the evening of his life. He would make sure he was remembered. If Voldemort were trying to rise again, he, Albus Dumbledore would not allow it, even if it cost him his life.

*

"WHAT? GET OUT OF THE WAY, NEVILLE!" Ron screamed, pushing Neville aside and bending over Ginny. He felt her wrist, and he could have cried with relief.

"Neville, you prat! She's alive, but barely. SHE NEEDS HELP!!"

"Calm down, Mr. Weasley, we'll take her to St. Mungos', " said Gilderoy Lockhart.

"NO!! There isn't enough time! There's a Muggle hospital just on the other side of the woods, we'll have to take her there, there's no other choice!" said Hermione.

"Right," said Dean. "Ron, I'll carry her, and the rest of you just keep a lookout, okay?"

"Erm... ah. Extremely sorry, but if you don't mind, I have to get going," said Lockhart sheepishly.

They didn't even wait for an answer before running towards the woods.

*

Harry picked up a pinecone absentmindedly and twirled it between his fingers, staring at the forest floor. He had been on tenterhooks for the last three days, ever since he had had to brave the unpleasant vagaries of a moribund jungle, all in the interests of espionage.

Ever since the defeat of Lord Voldemort, the Order of the Phoenix had become affiliated with the Ministry of Magic, and had become a fulltime subordinate department of Auror Headquarters. It was two years later that both Harry and Hermione had become Aurors. Ron had always pretended that he was not interested in the least in fighting Dark Wizards, but at times, you could see the resentment on his face when Harry, Hermione and Ginny talked about work. Poor Ron. Always shunted to the side, always forced to bear others raving about his brothers, sister and his two best friends.

But all that had changed when he was appointed Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. He was now a figure frequently in the public eye, and people enjoyed his offhand casualness, his air of detached nonchalance and of course, the sight of his fiancée Hermione Granger.

Harry's thoughts turned back to the Order, and his insides gave a guilty squirm as he remembered how Dumbledore had had to step in and alter his OWLS and NEWTS in order to gain him a career as an Auror. Harry remembered talking to him about this, and very clearly, as if Dumbledore was standing before him, he heard his words.

"Harry you are someone who has been born with the inexorable burden of destiny. You could have altered your view towards life, you could have altered your choices, but never can you change your destiny. What I have done is merely helped you on your path, not for your sake, but for the sake of the entire magical world. It would be a shame if talent such as yours were wasted in meaningless frivolousness."

This, if anything, had intensified Snape' s loathing for him, and he seldom looked at Harry without hatred gleaming in his black eyes, giving his palid face a strange intensity.

Harry was now in the famous Sherwood Forest, on the strength of a tip Dumbledore had got that there was some conference to be held there the following day. Harry Potter, left once again on his own to fend for himself, for the whole world.

But he was not alone, he corrected himself. He looked up and saw Nymphadoria Tonks sleeping against a log, Snape dozing off with his bark against a tree bark, and, though he couldn't see him, Hagrid's loud snores assured him of the fact that he was asleep too.

He took a deep breath and stood up, looking at the fragments of night sky that he could see through the tangled mass of branches and leaves. He sighed. It was a beautiful night. He wondered if anything could possibly go wrong.

*

Ron, Neville and Hermione panted towards the reception area, following Dean Thomas, who didn't seem to be affected at all by Ginny's weight.

A doctor burst through a door on their right.

"Doctor! She's hurt! Barbecue accident!" said Dean Thomas, his eyes popping.

Neville and Ron watched without a clue as to what was going on as two nurses transferred Ginny to a stretcher and wheeled her to the Emergency Room. The doctor turned around and smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry, she's in good hands. You may sit in the waiting area, it'll take us three hours at least."

They trudged towards the waiting area, and sank into plush armchairs. Dean was holding his head in his hands, Ron was white in the face, and Neville and Hermione looked extremely scared.

Four and half hours later, Hermione looked at the clock for what felt like the thousandth time. It was three thirty in the morning. Dean was pacing the floor, drinking his seventh cup of coffee. It was just as Ron curiously approached the vending machine and put his hand on the glass that the doctor came into the room.

He looked extremely grave, and Hermione felt her stomach plummet as he went towards Ron and placed his hand on his shoulder. Ron turned around, his face so white that his hair seemed to be on fire.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry."