Ok this is the product of lots of Cheeze-it's, and staying up later then 10:00 pm with muzak playing. It is a one shot song fic with Fawkes brooding over if Voldy wins over Harry. Then she contemplates the world of humans in general. Not exactly happy, but then again, I'm not here to make life happy, and it wouldn't be all that much if He took back over, now would it? On with the fic, I need to get more chocolate... now...

The song is Stockholm Syndrome by Muse.

I lazily fly into Albus' office from patrolling the grounds for foreign fowl. I'd seen that Potter boy out on the grounds with his little friends... Harry is it? Anyway, it doesn't matter his name. Countless millions, billions even, and he of all small children born at the end of that fateful July was chosen for this race this time around. He has quite a future, and quite a past. I can see his reaction to when Albus told him his fate, his alone. I wonder, what would happen if this miracle boy did not do as we, that is, Albus has planned? What if he goes astray and somehow is defeated by the Dark Lord? This world would turn dark again, and I hated it the last time around. It just rubs my feathers the wrong way to see power given to those who do not need or deserve it. But I have no power over it. I can only watch and observe.

I won't stand in your way

Let your hatred grow

And she'll scream and she'll shout and she'll cry

And she had a name,

Yea she had a name

It would be like last time. The idiotic killings, the nuisance of those stupid ravens, cawing their heads off all the time with, "Nevermore! Nevermore!" I've seen so many ages of man and beast, but that was the most hideous. The Dark Ages just barely came in first of all time in front of that time when He was around. He did things with a wand I'd seen only Albus do, and some I hadn't even seen Dumbledore, the great head of the Order of the Phoenix, do. Out of the ashes is what Albus was trying to form the world into. It was a good idea, as human ones go. But as always it has flaws, and humans can't be reborn from ashes as I do. But I couldn't stop them from going and using their lives the way they would. And their names would be kept only in human memory, fallible and easily negated. Easily forgotten in the oblivion.

And I won't hold you back

Let your anger rise

And we'll fly and we'll fall and we'll burn

And no one will recall

No one will recall

I really do wish I could do something to help. I do try. Last year, I helped the Potter child by thwarting Voldemort and swallowing a death spell. I cannot be killed, so I simply went up in flames. Albus took me from my ashes before I was fully formed again though, so my new skin was burned and blistered by traveling in his cloak. Then I got to sit there, in my previous ashes, flight and featherless to help him as he explained to the child his fate, and what must happen. I could not help to comfort or even to stand guard against intruders at that point. The look on the boy's face at the end was enough to make my heart break, but I silently looked on as he entered a new phase of his life, maturing in a mater of minutes into adulthood.

This is the last time I'll abandon you

And this is

The last time I'll forget you

I wish I could

The new centaur teacher has informed me that the battle has begun. He enjoys my company, as he'll talk at me for hours on end trying to explain the heavens and their "mysteries". Though little does he know that I have listened to as many philosophers as he's had breaths, and I've leaned the art of divining from the sky what will come, as I know all that's come before. I can see the great battle that has come, and though I do not know who will win yet, I do know it will not be long until the victor is victorious. The changing of an era is coming, that I know for sure. I can only hope and dream, to put it in human words and emotions. I wonder at the fragility of those human emotions. They have so much depth, as if they can feel so much before they cannot handle them anymore. But yet, they are so... primitive. That is the word. Primitive. Little do they know what these emotions that they have are or what they're capable of, what they can do. These humans' emotions will get them everywhere, but they will not be remembered but in faint recollections of the past, in thoughts and ponderings.

Look to the stars

Let hope burn in your eyes

And we'll love and we'll hate and we'll die

All to no avail

All to no avail

Anger and love, such subtly different thoughts. One might say that they are so different they can cause good or evil. If that is so, it might explain how I can be neither good nor evil, yet both at once. I have no such emotion. I just am. I know what I've learned over the millennia as right and wrong, and that has stuck with me through out the years. I've decided that there are defiantly less "good" humans in the world, so I decided a long while ago to stay with the decreasing numbers of "loving" people. I have strayed that straight path, though because I wanted to, not because I was going astray neglectfully. I've trodden the path of millions of those wicked enough to call themselves damned. I left the good to fend for themselves for a century, and see where it got them? Racism, sexism, brutality, impurity, simply scandalous behaviours being called "normal", division between state and religious practices... I was ashamed of myself for abandoning them to this state.

This is the last time I'll abandon you

And this is

The last time I'll forget you

I wish I could

Albus found me one day while I was waiting for my feathers to grow in. He gave me the opportunity to actually live with a good wizard for once, and after 50 or so human years; he found that one of my feathers had gone into one of his student's wand. He was happy, and I could feel when the magic of my feather was being used, though it drained only a smidgeon of my strength out. I started to feel it go steadily heavier, much darker then the airy things I'd seen Albus do. I could feel all the build up pressure from the enormous amounts of killing spells this student had put out of his wand. Then it all ended with a searing pain, this time from my second feather, still in it's box at Olivander's shop. I knew then what was to happen; I saw it in the sky. But I was as powerless to take back my feathers as to control the winds of the world today. There was nothing I could do but choose a side, and hope I chose correctly. There is no other way. This is the way it must be done.

This is the last time I'll abandon you

And this is

The last time I'll forget you

I wish I could

I wish I could.