Phoenix Traveler
An experimental story.
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Tears.
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They say the tears of a phoenix can heal anything. But that's not true.
They can't heal the dead. They can't heal broken friendships. A broken heart. A lost childhood. A broken promise.
"We'll face Voldemort together, right?"
"Of course we will."
He chokes on his own blood and laughs, shaking his head as he dies, unable to believe his own eyes. A glowing, fiery red and gold bird descending to save him.
Didn't it know it was already too late? Didn't it know he wasn't worth saving? That he was worthless trash according to just about, well, everyone?
You are not perfect, the phoenix sang to him as it landed, tears fresh in its eyes.
Maybe he was hallucinating.
Of course, he'd never been a perfect friend, who out there was such a creature? He'd admit to even being outright selfish and cruel, in the way teenage boys often are, absorbed in their own problems. He'd admit, worst of all it sometimes seemed like to some, to having been stupid. He'd never tried very hard to prepare for Voldemort, until up near the very end when it was near too late. He'd admit to being prejudiced, to thinking Gryffindor was the very best. That Slytherin had something deeply wrong with it, and that you should be wary befriending any Slytherin.
The thing was, Slytherin did have something deeply wrong with it, rotten to the core with blood purists who casually cussed out 'Mudblood!'. Maybe that was just old prejudiced stupid him, still unable to get a thing through his dense dunce head after all this time, heh.
He could never have predicted what happened. That his two best friends would turn on him. That his girlfriend would leave him (okay, that, he didn't grudge too much; it struck him now as pretty apparent they had never been that compatible and the relationship had been mostly hormonal, like most teenaged relationships were).
They even had the balls to accuse him of being the traitor, and in his muddled, confused mind, he wondered if maybe he was. After all, if both your friends decide to do something, aren't you outvoted? Aren't you supposed to follow them to the end? Maybe he was the disloyal one. Maybe he was the one who hadn't been brave enough to face the truth.
No one had any use for a disloyal, cowardly Gryffindor.
'My old friend was not perfect either,' the hallucination phoenix said to him, dripping tears over his wounds. He ignored the Fawkes-look-alike, instead curling up and readying to die in the cold snow where he belonged. 'I am Fawkes, silly human. Your imperfection is why I choose you. You mean well, in the end. And you know by bitter lesson that you are only human. Not Holy Savior, not unkillable Lord of Death, not Prophecy Child, not Chosen One or Brightest of Their Year. That is good.'
If he was hallucinating, maybe he was close to dying of frostbite and blood loss. Now that was good.
Although, his wounds were starting to feel a great deal better. That must be part of the hallucination. Figures the trash would go bonkers. He just needed to be even more useless, right?
'I am not a hallucination! And you are not trash!' The phoenix squawked indignantly, and bit him on the nose. He yelped. Okay, -that- hurt.
"Go away, ruddy bird," he yelled and tried to push it off of him feebly, then shivered, tucking his hands under his robes. Instead, the obnoxious thing moved closer, giving what was admittedly quite welcome warmth. Of course, he should have known better than to try and argue with a mind reading bird. Or hallucination. He still wasn't totally convinced he wasn't dreaming or something.
Fawkes seemed to sigh. 'Not as bright as Dumbledore, this one. Yet, you'll have to do. I need you.'
"That would make you the only one. You know why I'm here, right? The War is over. My friends don't want me. My old enemies certainly don't want me. Dumbledore and everyone who might have cared about me are all dead. What's the point?"
'Oh, stop your self pity. It's obnoxious.' The bird suddenly burst with flame, but, unlike in Second Year, it didn't turn to ash and cinders with a little baby bird inside. Instead, the flame simply flared before settling, like the bird itself was made of fire. 'They are not the only people in the entire world, and THIS is not the only world, either. That's the problem. This world is broken, a stain on the strands of multi-cosmic space and time. The prophecy did not go as it should, and the Elder Artifacts have been united under a foul power. I need you to help me fix the ripples. I don't normally talk to humans, being such a primitive species, but this is dire.'
"...what?" he said, baffled. Great. The bird was smarter than he was.
'Believe it or not, but you are not a total idiot. I wouldn't have chosen you if you were. You've just never been expected to learn anything in that sorry head of yours,' Fawkes laughed at him. He never knew phoenixes could be so condescending. Then again, he was the one who started calling himself an idiot. 'And I am trying to get you to stop. Ah, but, you don't really believe me, do you? Alright, I just have one question. What have you to lose?'
Nothing, he had to admit.
'Alright then. Do we have a deal? Will you make a pact with me to fix the fabric of the multiverse? I will grant you a portion of my power, and you will channel it, as wizards are so good at doing, through that wand of yours.'
"To be honest... I don't want power, not anymore. Once I desired it, but not anymore. What good would it do me?" He shook his head. "Would it bring back my friends? My family? I'm not sure I even want my friends back anymore, after what happened."
'Silly chick. Did I not just say there were other worlds? I will do you one better than bringing your friends back. I will bring you to a world where they never betrayed you in the first place. Where your family never died.'
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"No way!" he exclaimed, trying to stand up but toppling over, weak.
'Yes 'way'. Have you never wondered why phoenixes are immortal? We are beings who ascended between the dimensions and achieved harmony. There is only one Fawkes. Unfortunately, now another threatens to ascend. That is part of why this world here broke. The disharmony, the stain is growing.'
"Why me?"
'Because of all the beings affected by the disharmony, you are one of the ones most often devoured by it, demonized, made weak, idiotic, bullying where you once abhorred it and foolish where others are raised up on a pedestal and made intelligent and strong far beyond their years in a way even a gifted person could never hope to compete with. You could say it is because I pity you.'
He took in a sharp, aching breath. "I don't want pity. If I can't be helpful, if I'm really that useless... then find someone else more useful. I don't want to burden you. I'm happy to die right here, really."
'You are a terrible liar. But very well. I suppose there is one other reason. I was like you, as a chick. The underdog.'
Phoenixes had children? But they were immortal, how did that make sense?
'Immortal only in the common sense. In the multiverse, there are dangers you have yet to ever dream of, things that could prevent you from ever being born or trap you in a eternity of suffering, the bird warned. Do you accept, even knowing that the consequences could be worse than death?'
"Ah. I guess the real reason you're asking me is no one else was foolish enough to accept, right?" He grinned broadly. "Yes. I accept. On one condition, you never call me by my old name. I want a new identity." He reached out his hand, to shake on it.
'That is acceptable,' The phoenix extended a claw to take his hand.
The moment they touched, they vanished in a flash of fire and smoke.
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credits: All ASCII art is by me. Fawkes, quite naturally, does not belong to me, nor does the HP setting. I'm just doodling in it. also, ASCII art is a bastard to display on FF, which is a bitch about what it does and does not accept. Might not display properly for everyone, depending on your font size settings, etcetera. Hopefully it displays at all. _
Possibly a one/twoshot.