She woke up to the sight of dark branches and green leaves shading her from a summer sun. A soundless breeze flowed through the trees making beams of light dance across her face.
She didn't know where she was. To her left the forest became darker and more antagonizing. To her right the trees progressively thinned into a green field. Her mind was fuzzy and she was content to stay put. She noted that her body felt like static, pins and needles all over.
Hearing the sound of footsteps almost roused her from her reverie, but she didn't find enough stamina to move. At the sound of a familiar cawing she couldn't quite place, she turned her gaze from the forest canopy to see a red bird with gold tail feathers winging its way towards her. Following behind was a tall man with a remarkably long, white beard and dressed in a purple robe. Even at this she couldn't pull herself off the ground.
The giant bird landed on a branch above her and cawed once more, a gentle note, which somehow inspired her to sit up. She crossed her legs and stared at the man who was now standing in front of her.
"Ah, so this is the reason you tore me from the ministry Fawkes?"
Another gentle caw came from the bird.
"And what is your name, young one?"
The girl kept staring.
What is my name?
She looked up again to see if the bird had the answer, but he made no sound.
"I don't know," she said.
The man peered at her thoughtfully through a pair of glasses that had slipped to the edge of his nose. She mindlessly rubbed her arms and wondered why she was still feeling the pins and needles. It took her a moment to realize she wasn't clothed.
She gasped, brought her knees to her chest, and put her head down to hide her self.
I don't know who I am, or where I am, but I know I should have clothes on.
The pins and needles feeling increased, and she groaned aloud.
She had heard the old man say something in her rush to hide herself, but it sounded like gibberish. Her already racing heart, jumped again at the man standing only a few paces away. Fawkes flew down next to her and for some reason that was reassuring, but the man was still too close for comfort.
He placed a set of clothes on the ground in front of her, "I'm not sure how long these will fit, but if your size changes abruptly I will conjure you a new set."
Although she understood the words this time, the meaning was still obscure.
'If your size changes abruptly?' Is that a fat joke?
She scooped up the clothes and dressed quickly with her back to the man. When she pulled the jeans on after putting on the shirt, she noticed the dark skin of her legs turning pale and gaining freckles, then abruptly turning olive toned. She screeched, but realized the sound that came out of her throat was far too deep for anything she, a girl, should be able to produce.
Turning to look wildly at the man she screamed, "What have you done to me?" her voice switching from deep baritone to a shrill soprano half way through.
The man stayed irritatingly unfazed as he said, "I haven't done anything to you my dear. What happened is what I am trying to figure out." The bird's head nodded solemnly, which she assumed meant she was suppose to believe him.
She brought her hands up to cover her face. She could feel the features changing fluidly.
"Might I suggest calming down," said the man.
"What's happening to me?"
"That is a difficult question to answer, why don't we walk back to the castle and we can try to answer that together."
The light filtering through the trees was steadily lessening
"Castle? Where am I?"
At this the man did seem confused, which she found satisfying. Fawkes landed on her shoulder, and for a bird his size he was lighter than logic suggested he should be. She took it in stride however realizing that a bird being lighter than expected was hardly weirder than her own body was being right now.
She sighed and allowed the bird to rub its head against hers. Swallowing the lump in her throat she looked at the man. "Lead the way, sir."
He turned and began walking back the way he and Fawkes came. She followed after him, tripping over her own fluctuating legs.
"So what is your name, sir?" she built up the courage to ask. With Fawkes humming a song in her ear, she felt a glowing warmth pooling inside of her, making the stony castle appearing in the gaps between trees seem less like a dark fortress and more like a welcoming haven.
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, however most of the students call me Professor Dumbledore, which you may, if you like."
"Show off."
"Excuse me?" Dumbledore questioned gently with a twinkle in his eye that she had just now noticed.
"You have what? Five names? And I can't even remember one of mine."
Dumbledore chuckled, but did not respond.
Walking into the castle was breathtaking. Dumbledore didn't notice her awe, and almost left her behind a few times as she stared at the moving portraits on the walls, or the statues of armor, one of which she could have swore sneezed. They stopped in front of a giant gargoyle. Even he's stopping to admire the scenery now she thought, but instead he said "Sherbet Lemon" and the gargoyle hopped out of the way revealing a stone staircase. She would have been terrified of following Dumbledore if it weren't for her overwhelming curiosity as to where the staircase led.
Above the staircase was an office, which she recognized was a rather poorly fitting term. Surrounding her were things even more breathtaking than the moving portraits, all sorts of devices clicked and buzzed and whirred. The portraits on the walls in here were decidedly less remarkable than the ones outside had been as all the occupants were asleep. She spun around animatedly and hardly noticed when Fawkes left her shoulder to stand on a perch by a grand, gleaming desk.
Her inspection of all the objects halted when she saw a portrait that wasn't sleeping. She edged towards it thinking she would see if this one would talk to her, when she realized the portrait was actually a mirror.
The effect of her transforming features was mesmerizing. Everything was out of sync and constantly changing. Her hair would go from long auburn to spiky black to buzz cut blonde while her eyes changed from green cat eyes to abnormally large purple ones. Her height, her weight, her skin color, everything was changing so quickly she wasn't sure how Dumbledore was able to talk to her without being distracted.
"I believe relaxing may help your features settle." Dumbledore said from behind the desk.
Her now elfish ears perked up. "What if I stop on something that I don't like?"
"I'm sure you will be able to morph your features as you wish, but it will be a voluntary action rather than, well, this."
She closed her eyes and focused on slowing her breathing. When she felt she had relaxed enough she opened her eyes. Her features were still shifting, but slowly and the pins and needles had reduced substantially.
"Hmm" she said. Her hair had turned a violent red that she actually liked. When it started fading into a brown she concentrated to see if she could get the color to stay. To her surprise it worked. The length was still changing but the color stayed intact. She smiled and started concentrating on all her other features. Getting rid of bushy eyebrows, changing her eyes to gold, shrinking her height, and darkening the pasty complexion.
She became acutely aware of just how much her body could change. Luckily she was able to freeze herself at female, and didn't have to concentrate on getting rid of any unwanted parts.
She was focusing on minor details when Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"I realize this is new to you, but if you are comfortable, I would rather we save the more cosmetic changes until later."
"Right" she said, but the voice was far too frog like, and she squinched her face up, curious as to how she was suppose to change her vocal cords. She decided she'd allow them to change on their own and when she found one she liked she'd freeze it.
"I realize you don't know your name, but is there something you would have me call you?"
"I guess you can call me Miss until I remember my name" that voice was deep and soothing but not really what she wanted.
"Well, Miss. Can you tell me what you do remember?"
"I don't remember anything" that voice was okay. She wondered why she wasn't more worried; intellectually she knew she ought to be.
Fawkes was looking at her curiously. He cawed and flew to an object that looked like a bowl floating on a table near the mirror. He tilted his head, cried into the bowl then flew back to his perch.
She looked to Dumbledore to explain, but he said nothing, looking rather surprised. With a beckoning motion from the man the bowl floated and hovered over his desk. He peered into the bowl and his look of surprise widened.
"Fawkes, you never cease to amaze me. Miss, you should come here, this should shed some light on your situation."
She stood up and looked into the bowl seeing what she assumed were Fawkes' tears swirling around then surfacing to form a moving image.
It was a bird's eye view over a forest. In between some trees she sees a flaming light, red as her hair. Fawkes, curious at the light, circles for a bit then flies down to get a closer look. As he gets closer she can see that the light takes the shape of a person.
Like an aura or something.
Fawkes lands next to the light. The person isn't moving, and the light begins to fade. A mournful cry comes from the bird, but the light is still dying, turning dark as it retreats into the person's heart. When the light is gone from the rest of the body she can see the heart's faltering beats. Fawkes inclines his head near the person's mouth which can only be seen in outline. The heart's light starts fading, and Fawkes' tears are falling fiercely.
He's going to drown them.
The heart shudders and the light starts to expand. The red reclaims the body shrouded in black, but the red is tinged with gold swirling first in the throat then the lungs. Soon the golden tendrils are flickering through the body like flames. Fawkes takes flight aiming away from the stone castle. The memory goes dark.
"That was me?"
"I would assume. That is where we found you."
"I almost died, " she looked solemnly at Fawkes, "Thanks."
"Interesting."
Her attention turned back to Dumbledore whose palms were together, index fingers touching the tip of his nose, his eyes staring off into nowhere.
"So that red light was me, and I almost died, but Fawkes' tears saved me?"
"Yes, Phoenix tears have healing powers."
"Why would he save me?"
"I do not have an answer," his eyes focused on her now, "You seem to be accepting these events rather well."
She chuckled. "I'm assuming I'm going to wake up any minute now."
"Ah" was all Dumbledore said. He pushed away from his desk and walked over to the fireplace. A powder he threw into the flames turned them green and he started talking to them.
"Mrs. Pomfrey if you could come to my office when it is convenient."
She heard someone reply, "Yes, I'll be right up."
Now that she had realized this was a dream she started to enjoy herself quite a bit.
I never realized I was so creative.
She started to giggle a little, then a lot. Dumbledore gave her a worried look but smiled gently. She continued to laugh. There was a knock on the door, and Dumbledore beckoned the person in.
"I didn't realize we were housing students for the summer" said a pale woman with piercing blue eyes.
"We are not, however we may need to make an exception."
The woman looked at the girl with curious eyes, but quickly placed hands on her shoulders and ushered her out of the chair. "Come along dear, let's get you some rest."
The woman led her to an infirmary and pointed her to a bed. She swept away into another room, but returned quickly with a pair of pajamas. The girl tucked herself into the bed obediently, still chuckling at the amazing inner workings of her mind, eventually drifting off into a happy slumber.