Harry Potter and the Phoenix Flame
A/N: Ok, I'm a hardcore H/G shipper, but I've read somewhere around 300,000 printed pages of H/G fics in the past three weeks, so for a change of pace I've decided to write a H/OC fic that popped into my head. The only way I could even think to start one without some H/G was… well… don't kill me, I'm told that I'd be missed.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. This will be the only disclaimer for this fic cause I'm too lazy to do this every time... plus, if you read this, you'll have to start here, right?
Prologue
Harry Potter sat on his bed at number four Privet Drive with his head in his hands. His eyes were red from the painful stinging of tears that had finally fallen, tears that had been accumulating for over a year.
He was no stranger to pain. He had had his bones re-grown in his arm, and not long after that, he had been bitten by a Basilisk, the fang breaking off in the aforementioned arm. Not long after that he had fallen from his broomstick when Dementors had gotten too close to him during a Quidditch match. He had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse… Physical pain was nothing for him. It was the pain he was feeling now, the pain that was making him cry into the palms of his hands that threatened to tear him apart. Physical pain was nothing; emotional pain was horrible, torturous, and unbearable.
Hogsmeade weekends were always fun, a great way for the students to relax and for some of the students to share a day with a special someone. Harry had asked one of his best friends, Ginny Weasley, to accompany him to the village, if only so both of them could escape from Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. In the weeks preceding the Valentines Hogsmeade trip, Hermione and Ron had become permanently attached at the lip.
Harry, as always, had guards from the Order of the Phoenix protecting him. He wasn't fond of the protective detail, but he mentioned nothing.
Ginny had met Harry in the common room in Gryffindor Tower and the two had walked off to Hogsmeade, quite possibly as the only people not on a date. Harry had once thought of dating Ginny, but the thought of kissing her was almost like the thought of kissing Hermione. They were too close as friends, and he was an honorary Weasley anyway. The idea of kissing someone who he saw as a sister was a bit too creepy for him.
They had been shopping around when an ear-splitting shriek had pierced the air. An explosion soon followed, and the front wall to the shop they were in had tumbled to the ground. Harry and Ginny had been knocked into the back wall from the shockwaves and the flying debris.
Harry had been knocked unconscious, awoken a long while later by Nymphadora Tonks; he helped her move the large pieces of stone that were lying around as they looked for other students. Harry had found the bag Ginny had been carrying. It was trapped beneath an extremely large pile of rubble, and he set to work at once, removing everything.
Nothing was there. Ginny was nowhere to be found.
Harry shook his head, trying to force the tears back inside. He had tried not to think of it, but it couldn't be helped. Guilt wrenched his insides. She shouldn't have been taken; it was only because she was with me! Harry knew nothing anyone could say would change how he felt. The only person who could ever get through his thick head at times like this was…
Most of the school had recovered from the attack. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and other students related to someone hurt or killed in the attack were still grieving. Ginny had not yet been found, though there was little hope for her. Three months had passed and absolutely nothing had been heard about the youngest Weasley. In fact, in those three months, nothing had been heard from Voldemort or his supporters either. It was obvious that Ginny was being used for something and that the Dark Lord had targeted her, though Harry was absolutely certain that it was only because she was with him.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been sitting in Charms when a burst of flame erupted in front of Ron. A letter fell to the table before them. Ron reached out a shaking hand and opened it.
Mr. Weasley, please bring yourself, Mr. Potter, and Ms. Granger to my office. The password is Canary Cream.
Albus Dumbledore
The trio left, explaining to professor Flitwick where they were going. Ron's parents were waiting for them in the office. Mrs. Weasley wrapped Ron in a bone-crushing hug, sobbing silently. Harry knew what had happened and bowed his head, grabbing onto the wall for support to prevent himself from falling. Hermione broke down in tears, and Ron merely collapsed to the floor with a look of horror, confusion, and hopelessness on his face.
"It is, sadly, as you assume." Dumbledore told the three friends. "Arthur, the floor is yours."
Mr. Weasley, his face puffy and red, stepped forward away from his wife. "This morning we found Ginny." His voice broke. "Sh-she was lying on the ground in the garden of the Burrow." He continued, wiping tears from his eyes and cheeks. "She… she's dead."
Harry had stepped forward, barely trusting his legs, and walked to Mrs. Weasley. He attempted to speak but his mouth wouldn't work. Mrs. Weasley reached for him and pulled him into a tight hug. "I know, Harry… I know."
Harry was glad his "family" was gone, because the noise he was making as his fist collided with the walls of his room would have earned him a month without supper… not that it would matter, he was to be removed from Privet Drive and relocated in a matter of hours. Harry seriously hoped he wouldn't be going to the Burrow. None of the Weasleys blamed him for what had happened. There was no way he could have prevented anything. The reason he couldn't go to the Burrow was simple: He was afraid. He had controlled his emotions so well, and seeing the spot where Ginny was found would probably force him to break down. He wasn't only holding in the pain from Ginny's death, but from Sirius's death as well, and it was all getting to be too much. Only one thought remained on Harry's mind constantly: Why do the people I love have to die?
That evening, Nymphadora Tonks had Apparated into Harry's bedroom to find him lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. "Hi Harry." She said, sitting at the foot of his bed. "You ready to go, mate?"
Harry sat up and scratched his head. "I'm ready to get away from this place… but not to go to the Burrow or Headquarters." His voice had a hollow, tired… dead… tone about it.
"Understandable, though the Weasleys will be sad not to see you. No worries, you're coming home with me." Tonks said as she waggled her eyebrows.
"Fine by me, but won't Remus get jealous if you have teenage boys over? You're only a few years older than me…" Harry attempted to sound cheery, but failed.
"Maybe, but I'm sure he'll make an exception for the famous Harry Potter." She said, pulling him into a hug. "After all, what could the most famous seventeen-year-old in the wizarding world want with little old me?" Tonks batted her eyelashes at him and laughed lightly.
"Well, you do have the ability to change your appearance at will… I mean, you could become ANY girl…" Harry replied. Tonks could see she was finally bringing him out of his depressed stupor.
"Right… you have no idea…" She said, turning back to him, staring at him with his mother's face. Laughing at the shocked expression he replied with, she patted his knees. "Get your things, Potter, we're going home."
