Disclaimers…
The Harry Potter world is not mine. J.K.R. planted this garden, I am just adding a few weeds of my own. Any similarities to any real people alive or dead, is either a total accident, or was with their consent.
Chapter 21
The castle had been transformed overnight. The school had always looked a little worn and weathered. It was much like a favorite book or a comfortable chair by the fire. It was dependable and reassuring. When dawn touched the castle walls they presented a different image. Hogwarts was a Castle in full glory. Pennants and flags flew from the towers. The walls were strong and decorated with colorful banners. Suits of armor that had long decorated the corridors now marched in formation along the battlements and gargoyles stood watch in all quarters.
When Harry and his friends went down to breakfast they saw evidence of Hogwarts' transformation. Sir Nicholas and the Bloody Barron were both encased in ghostly Breastplates and carrying swords. The Fat Friar wore his modest robes but had added a wide brimmed helmet and carried a stout staff. The martial trappings that now decorated the school had the look of formality and celebration. The students soon found themselves caught up in the mood of the castle. Prefects and staff were finding themselves being saluted. Some students even made an attempt to march in line rather then strolling in clumps.
Harry understood the importance of what was happening. That did not mean that he had to enjoy it. The grand decorations and martial trappings helped to build peoples confidence. People needed to see the school as a place of strength and courage and hope. Harry realized that it would only take a moment to turn the festive, traditional defenses of the castle into a very real means to defend the school and students.
The trio ate their breakfast in silence. Hermione had her nose in a book titled Ceremony and Celebration; Wizarding traditions of honor. Ron pecked at his food in the same way he had approached breakfast on the morning of his first Quidditch match. Harry noticed that nether of his friends looked like that had slept well. Harry knew exactly how they felt. His own mind was twisting in knots as he tried to think of everything that could happen. He was even working up a short speech, in case he was asked to say something.
"Good morning Harry," Cho said softly as she came up behind him. She wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug.
"G'morning Cho," Harry returned her greeting and looked up into her face. The traded a gentle kiss then Harry made room for her to sit next to him. "Did you have a good night?"
"I guess. Harry," Cho looked at his face as she gathered her thoughts. "Do you know what is going on tonight?"
"I have some idea," He admitted.
"I asked Professor Flitwick but he just said that he was proud of me and that I should do my best to represent my house."
"That's what McGonagall said. Well, sort of anyway," Ron threw in.
"What is going on Harry?" Cho asked in a direct manner.
"Remember our Picture on the cover of Witch Weekly? Well I think they are going to have us up in front of the school as examples of heroes." Harry's words made the color drain from Cho's face.
"But Harry," Cho protested. "I didn't do anything. I just stayed behind you and threw a few charms. I didn't know what we were doing, I was afraid of getting separated from you."
"But you did not panic. You did not give up or run away."
"I was too afraid to run."
"You stayed with me, and others saw us trying to defend ourselves. Because you didn't run other people decided not to run."
"But… But… I was just doing what had to be done. What…" Cho's voice faltered.
"Exactly," Harry said calmly. "You did what had to be done. What anyone would have done. Cho; that is exactly what people have to do. People have to see that they need to stand together and fight evil any way they can."
"But then why do I have to stand up in front of everybody if I only did what anybody could have done?"
"Because you were there Cho. Because you did not run others followed you. That makes you a leader. That makes people see you as a hero." Harry took Cho's hands in his and looked her in the eye. Cho saw the deep feelings and clear thinking in Harry's green eyes and felt his gaze reaching into her. "Cho, people need you to be a hero so they can look up to you and find the strength to do the right thing."
"Think of Quidditch," Ron said suddenly. "Everybody on the team works together. If the Keeper doesn't do his best it makes it harder for the others to do their own jobs. Just because we're heroes doesn't mean we have to do everything. We just get to help make sure everybody else remembers to do their part."
Hermione nodded in agreement with what Ron had said. Ron smiled at Harry and Hermione as he accepted the value of his own words. Then he set to the business of eating breakfast with a vengeance. His appetite had returned and he was not going to let the food escape. Hermione smiled with a hint of pride about Ron's short display of maturity. Then she asked the question.
"What are you going to wear tonight Cho?" There was only a moment's hesitation before every female in hearing range burst into excited chatter about fashions, makeup and hair styles. Harry and Ron escaped from the great hall as quickly as they could.
As dinner approached Gryffindor tower was becoming increasingly chaotic. Owls were flying think and fast as urgently requested parcels from home arrived. Harry had discovered that after spending time as an owl, he could understand them. Pressed into service to help with the girls' frantic preparations for tonight's dinner, the owls had a lot to say about the female humans. Harry listened to the Owls gossiping as they flew in and out of the tower.
Only Harry's close circle of friends had any warning about what the special dinner was about. He did admit to Ron that it was only speculation, but Harry's closest friend accepted it as the best possible explanation. Having some fore warning made it easier to deal with the excitement of the evening ahead.
It had taken Harry and Ron less then an hour to get ready. They had started by each selecting their most worn out school robe. Harry had summoned his Will and released it to transform the old robes into new robes of fine black velvet with their house crest embroidered in fine thread of gold. At the end of their second year Harry and Ron had been presented with a "Special Award for Services to the School." The awards were on display in the school trophy room, but the two boys had also received a pin that showed the Hogwarts crest surrounded by an olive wreath. Ron wore the pin on left breast above his Auror Badge. Harry placed his Auror badge beside his Prefect badge with the pin over them both.
Ron and Harry enjoyed being spectators to the chaos. Girls were running in and out of the common room in every state of dress imaginable. Some boy would be lounging comfortably, wrinkling his normal school robes, only to have a half dressed girl he hardly talked too rush over to demand "Is that what you're wearing?" The confused boy would find himself being bullied into making an attempt at spiffing himself up. At one point Hermione, clad in only a dressing gown cut through the common room to where Ron was sitting with Harry. She froze when she saw the boys' enhanced and very formal looking school robes.
"Oh," She squeaked, before dashing back up to her dorm.
"Mental," Ron said as he watched her run off.
Harry remembered all of the excitement the girls had had for the formal dances. There was no month of advanced warning for this evening. Any boy sitting still found himself being consulted on issues out side of their capacity to give the right answers to.
"What kind of shoes?" "Is my makeup alright?" There was even the dreaded question of "Does this make me look…" Harry and Ron avoided the questions by pretending to concentrate on a game of chess.
When Ron and Harry had decided on what to wear they had sent owls to Hermione and Cho. The girls were told to wear their oldest robes, and that Harry would take care of everything before they went into the great hall. Hermione had obviously not trusted her note from Ron. The next time she came down stairs she was in her best school robe. Ron sent her back up to change after Harry and Ron explained what was going to be done. It only took her twenty minutes to exchange robes. Once Harry released his Will on her robe, Hermione was dressed to match her two friends. Harry left Ron and Hermione in the Gryffindor common room after that.
It was almost time for Dinner and Harry wanted to speak with Cho. The Marauder's Map, Harry's ever present companion, told him that Cho was still in the Ravenclaw dorms. He always knocked before entering the Ravenclaw common room, but this evening the passage was wide open. Just like his common room this was a place of chaos. No sooner had Harry arrived in Ravenclaw territory then an excited second year sighted him.
"You're here for Cho," The girl had said as a statement o fact. She then rushed off. A chorus of giggles echoed out of the girls' dorm a moment later. Cho came out to see Harry, dressed in a silk bath robe, with a stern expression on her face, and his note in her fist.
"What do you mean by this?" She asked in a level voice. "I can dress myself I will have you know."
"I know you can Cho," Harry said quickly. "And you always look beautiful no mater what you wear. I want all of us to match tonight is all. I want us to look like a team. We all stood together, and now I want everybody to see us as the same. This way," Harry gestured to his own enhanced robes. "We represent Hogwarts together instead of just our houses."
"All right then," Cho said simply. "And thank you." Harry did not have a clue as to why she was thanking him. "I will be right down." Cho dashed back to her dorm.
Harry was starting to get nervous. Dinner was scheduled to start in minutes. When Cho reappeared her hair gathered up in a tight bun that was held in place by the red lacquered sticks that Harry had given her moths ago, and then it spilled down to her left shoulder in a dozen little waterfalls of silky black. Harry could not see any traces of makeup, but her face had a radiant glow. It was enough to leave Harry breathless. It took two tries to gather his Will because he was so distracted by Cho's appearance. Finally he managed to release his Will and transform her robes.
"Does my hair look all right Harry?" Cho asked in a gentle voice.
"Does it ever… I mean, Er…" Harry felt himself starting to blush. He took a deep, calming breath. "You look absolutely wonderful."
Cho had smiled when Harry had been too flustered to make a whole sentence. He didn't notice, but she was pleased with the effect she had had on him. Harry may not be the smoothest talker, but his sincerity showed in his face and in his voice. Cho knew that he meant what he said, and that he thought she was beautiful.
"May I walk you to the great hall Miss Chang?" Harry offered his arm to Cho.
"Yes," She answered in a soft tone as she took his arm. "Thank you Mister Potter." Arm in arm they headed for the great hall. Their departure was like a signal, and everybody in the Ravenclaw common room that had finished getting ready followed in their wake.
Harry, Cho, Ron, and Hermione all came together out side the great hall. The doors to the hall were still closed so the foyer was filled with people waiting to enter. When he arrived in the entry way Harry saw Professor McGonagall. The head of Gryffindor house had apparently been waiting for him. She closed in on Harry and his friends as soon as she saw them. She gave the four students a critical once-over then graced them with a tight smile and a brief nod.
"Appropriate attire," She said in clipped tones. "Mr. Potter a word." She drew Harry a few feet from his friends. "I wanted to advise you that you and your friends will be sitting at the center table for tonight. I should also warn you that you will be asked to say a few words tonight. Try to keep from tripping over your tongue."
"Yes professor," Harry tried to sound confident. "I understand."
"Very well. Return to your friends. I will see you inside shortly." Harry was quick to rejoin the comforting presence of his friends.
"What did she say?" Hermione wanted to know at once.
"She said we will be sitting at the center table tonight, and to be ready to give speeches." Harry knew the others were not likely to be asked to speak, but he had every intention of sharing the spotlight as much as he could get away with.
"If I may have your attention," The voice of the deputy headmistress cut through the chatter and noise of the waiting students. Professor McGonagall was standing on the steps to the side of the foyer so she could see over the crowd. "Tonight's seating is by assignment. Please look for your places where you see your house colors, and observe the name cards. Seventh years and first years will be together towards the head of the hall. Sixth and Second years will be closest to the doors. Please remember to be courteous to our guests and visitors. Each and every one of you represents your house and this school. I assure you that no foolishness that embarrasses either will be tolerated." Professor McGonagall linger only a moment before giving a nod of her head. The doors to the great Hall opened and the students started to file in.
The tide of students started moving as soon as the doors opened. It was not a continuous flow. There were short stops and delays as the students took in the view of the great hall. When Harry and his friends finally passed into the great hall he immediately wished he could turn back around again. What Harry saw went beyond any expectation he could have formed on his own.
The great hall had been completely reorganized. The head table had been pushed back to make room for the addition of side wings so that an additional score of seats could be added. The house tables had been moved closer together and made narrower to make room for three additional tables. All of the tables were longer then normal to accommodate extra place settings. Each set of house colors decorated a table and a half apiece. The center table was decorated in Hogwarts crests but was not divided into houses. Harry immediately understood the demand for additional seating when he saw some familiar faces at the Gryffindor table.
Molly and Arthur Weasley were standing to great Ginny and the Twins. Harry wished he could visit with them but he and his friends were expected along the center table. Along the house tables there were parents and family of students. Most of the parents were Hogwarts alumni, and they showed their support by wearing their house colors or crests. As he walked along the center table Harry saw faces he recognized from the village of Hogsmeade.
"A good evening to you Harry," Mr. Clark said as Harry passed. "Tiffany was right sorry she missed your visit to the store."
"Good evening Mr. Clark," Harry said politely.
Harry also exchanged greetings with Madam Rosmerta and other Hogsmeade business owners and their families. Nearly all of them were total strangers to him. It was with some relief that he finally found his seat and could sit down below the line of sight of most of the people in the hall. Unfortunately, that seat was at the head of the table with the head table uncomfortably close to his right. Ron on the other side of the table was looking pink in the ears and green around the gills. Cho sat at Harry's left while Hermione sat opposite her at Ron's right. Harry tried not to let him self get too nervous and distracted himself by looking around the great hall.
He was close enough to the head table to overhear bits of conversation. The school faculty was joined by the school's Board of Governors. The political value of the evening was not lost on Harry. Nor was it lost on the Minister of Magic. Cornelius Fudge was sitting next to Professor Dumbledore. The minister's face looked like it was caught somewhere between a pleasant smile and a sour scowl. The school governors were talking softly with the professors as the students continued to find their seats.
As Harry was looking around, an elderly Chinese man approached Cho.
"Grandfather!" Cho nearly jumped out of her seat to hug the old man. What followed was a rapid fire conversation in Cantonese. Harry heard names in their conversation that had to be an explanation of who was who. After a minute Cho switched back to English and performed a round of introductions.
"Every one," She said in a proud voice. "This is my Grandfather, Chang Zhong-Hu. Grandfather, this is Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and this is Harry Potter." Cho's grandfather gave a short bow to Hermione and Ron as they were introduced. To Harry he gave a deeper bow then held out his hand.
"Please to meet you," He said with a heavy accent. "Cho has said much in her letters about you."
"It is an honor to meet you sir," Harry stood to shake the old man's hand. "Cho has told me how much you mean to her. I am very glad you were able to help her come to Hogwarts."
"That is nice of you," he said to Harry. When her grandfather sat down he started speaking to her in Cantonese again. Harry did not know what they were talking about, and thought it might be best that way. He did hear his name a few times, and whatever the old man was saying it was making Cho blush.
Not wanting to stare at Cho, Harry returned to studying the great hall and the people gathered together. Some of the parents' faces he recognized from platform 9¾ at Kings Cross Station. One parent that Harry recognized instantly was Lucius Malfoy. He was sitting beside his son with an air of confidence and contempt that Draco fought a hopeless battle to duplicate. Harry hoped that he could avoid any confrontations with the Malfoys this evening. Harry continued to look around until a gentle chiming drew his attention to the head table.
"Honored guests, students, and anybody that may be lurking under the tables," said Albus Dumbledore Stood at the head table looking every bit the scholarly and noble wizard. "I am pleased to welcome you all to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope that you will all enjoy a pleasant evening. Before I ramble on excessively might I suggest we attend to the first order of tonight's business?" With a wave of his hand the tables were suddenly laden with everything required for a fine feast. "I hope you all brought your appetites. Let us enjoy this meal as friends and equals." With that, the headmaster sat down and the feast began.
Harry and his friends tried to enjoy the food but they were too nervous to have much of an appetite. Around them the great hall was filled with conversations. The warmth of the included parents added to the festive feel of the feast. Nobody noticed right away, but as everybody was eating the hall was slowly dimming. There was plenty of light to see what was on the tables and to recognize the faces in sight. The ceiling and floor however, were lost in thick shadows. Harry started to feel apprehensive about the enclosing darkness until a warm voice was heard over the talk and noise.
"Friends and fellows enjoy this feast," The voice was rich and strong. Harry saw a cloaked shape standing just inside the doors to the great hall. "Let your body take strength from the feast before you and lend me but an ear and I will tell you a story of courage and valor." Conversations around the great hall tapered off as people became interested in the entertainment.
"Born into the world, we are granted strengths that will help us and weaknesses that test us. No child is born free from these truths. Once there was a boy born to a common family. He was the son of a farmer among a community of farmers. The lad was unremarkable in most ways. There was but one thing about the boy that made him different from those around him. He was curious about everything. His very first word was a question. 'Why?' he said from his crib one morning.
The years progressed and the boy grew. As was expected of him, the boy learned the ways of farm life. As he grew his body became strong from the work he did. He performed each chore he was given, but insisted on trying to do it his own way. The curiosity he had been born with had never left him. As he grew his curiosity made him stand out from the others in the community.
The boy welcomed each day as a chance to learn. He took the time to learn the 'why' behind everything that happened on the farm. When he was old enough, he would walk to the nearest village after his chores were done and look for new things to learn. Everybody thought the boy was strange. They wondered why the boy looked for more work to do. They wondered why they boy cared about why things were the way they had always been.
One day, the boy now having grown to be a young man, woke with the realization that there was nothing left to learn on the farm. He had been doing his chores in every way he could think of. In fact, his parents had the most prosperous farm in the region because of his experimenting to learn more and to find better ways of doing things. Finally he had learned all he could on the farm.
He spent more time in the village after that. He learned everything he could from the craftsmen. He learned everything he could from the village elders. Soon the young man had learned everything he could in his small corner of the world. The young man knew he had to leave home."
The great hall was silent as everybody listened to the story. Around the listeners the castle itself faded away. Harry Potter found himself alone, suspended in the morning sky above a medieval farm. The door to the farm yard opened below him and somebody stepped out side. It was a thin young man dressed in plain woolens and carrying a leather script and walking stick. His face was concealed by the wide brim of a hand woven straw hat. The young man slowly closed the door behind him and started across the farm yard to the dirt road that stretched into the distance.
"The young man set out from the farm in search of new things to learn." The voice of the now invisible story teller narrated the events Harry saw happening below him. "For a long time the young man traveled. He walked until he reached the sea. He lived at the coast while he learned all that was known about the crafts of people who earned a living from the sea. He learned the weaving of nets and the building of boats with equal pleasure.
As was his custom, the young man continued to ask 'Why?' He experimented with everything he learned. He also found himself teaching the fisher folk about ways to farm. When the young man had learned all he could at the coast, he built himself a boat and sailed away. The fishing village was left to grow larger and more prosperous from what they had learned from the young man.
As he sailed across the sea, he studied everything he saw. He observed and learned the ways of sea birds, waves, winds, and weather. When he arrived on the shore of a new land, the young man learned of the people he found there. He learned their life style and language. He studied their arts and their crafts. As he continued to travel the young man asked the people he encountered if they knew of anyplace where the wise would gather to share knowledge. Over time the young man learned of a mountain.
On top of the mountain, the young man was told, live people that are ancient and wise. The young man started to search for the mountain. In his searching he learned all that he could from all that he met. As he journeyed, he helped strangers and made friends with the things he had learned so far. His quest for knowledge touched the people that passed through his life, leaving their lives a little improved. From a far away place, the young man was being watched.
The scene in the great hall changed. Harry found himself surrounded by marble pillars bathed in a soft golden light. People with calm faces and dressed in soft robes sat around a smooth pool of water. Like a reflection, the image of the young man could be seen.
The wise and ancient people sat in their mountain home. Through mysterious arts they watched the young man as he continued his search for knowledge.
"We should discourage this man," said one in firm voice. "He wants to know things men are not able to understand."
"We should test him," Said another. "I would like to see how dedicated he is."
"I propose," Said a stern sounding woman. "We should lay trials before him. We shall make his path a labyrinth of hardship. We shall test his resolve."
"We should each lay a challenge in his path," Another man spoke. "Let us learn his intentions."
And so the ancient people of the mountain did plan to test the young man. HE was tested with hardships meant to deter him from his quest. He was tested with rewards that might lure him from his goal. While he slept the lands were changed so that his way was unclear. From land to land he was made to wander. In each land he was tested by the powers that ruled there. Strangers were sent against him as enemies or sent to him in search of his aid. He took joy in learning the healers' arts. With grim determination the young man learned the arts of war.
The young man would not be swayed from his quest. In bitter weather he learned from the very rocks that gave him shelter. In the heat of summer he learned from the Sun that sought to burn his skin. Undaunted, he continued his search.
One day the young man awoke with the knowledge that his determination was to be rewarded. He set out on the path at first light. His feet carried him to the crest of a long ridge. The path he had chosen to follow stretched the length on the ridge line. As he reached the ridge a fierce wind built. The wind threatened to blow the young man from the ridge. He could have escaped the find by stepping down to the leeward side of the ridge, but that would mean leaving the path. The wind was too strong for the young man to stand against. Humbly, he lay down on the path and crawled on his stomach. The wind tore at his clothes and made his face and hands feel raw. Without leaving the path, the young man crawled to the end of the ridge line and descended out of the wind.
The path wound a short way down from the ridge to the bank of a wide river. The young man could see the far side where it was partially concealed by the remains of the morning fog. There, across the river, the path continued. The young man knew he had to cross the river if he wanted to continue his quest.
Carefully, he studied the river. The water was dark and deep. He watched the ripples and swirls of the surface of the river and learned how the currents ran. Leaving his pack and his walking stick behind, the young man waded into the river. With measured strokes, he swam into the current. The journey across the river was made many times longer by the need to quarter the current. The young man could have crossed the river with easy effort if he did not fight the currents. He could have been across in minutes if he did not care where he reached the far bank. The young man, however, refused to loose sight of the path. He quartered the current and fought for every foot he did not drift from his goal. With every stroke he battled his way across the river, until he felt the firm ground under him once more. With a sense of satisfaction he stood on the path and looked back across to where his pack lay beside the far bank.
Turning to resume his journey, the young man saw that the path disappeared into the rocks. He stood at the foot of a stone mound. The morning fog and haze was gone and the young man could see the stone and rock rise up into a tall spire. At the very top, he could just see the edge of a large nest. The path had led the man to this place. His curiosity wanted to lead him u to the top to see what kind of bird would nest in such a place.
With a sense of purpose, the young man started up the stone mountain. The rocks were jumbled and weathered. As he climbed the young man struggled for every inch. He had to find a way to grip stone worn as smooth as glass. He had to find support where the stone wanted to crumble at the slightest touch. There was the challenge of trying to grasp rock that offered only jagged edges that were as sharp as knives. Upward the young man climbed.
The mountain was a place of nothing but stone. Not a single plant grew amid the rocks. Nowhere was there any hint of water. Not even the slightest breeze blew as the young man climbed. He kept his attention on the nest above him. If he looked down, the young man would have seen the red of his bloodied hands where he fought to gain holds on the stone.
The day wore on. As the young man climbed higher so did the sun. The stone was growing hot and the young man had to force himself to grip the mountain firmly. At long last, as the sun was directly over head, the young man reached the nest. Carefully, he looked into the nest to discover what would live in such a place. What he found were three unattended eggs. Each was a little larger then a grown man's fist and was a rich red-gold color. As he saw the eggs, the young man marveled in their beauty. Then he noticed the nest.
The nest was a collection of dry twigs and straw. Bits of golden feathers and silvery down padded the eggs where they lay in the nest. In the bright light of the hot sun, the young man noticed the thin wisps of smoke. The nest was about to catch fire like dried grass on a summer day. The eggs would be burned and whatever fantastic creature with-in would be destroyed.
The young man only took a moment to consider his options. If he tried to take the eggs from the nest the best he could hope to do is carry one away to safety. He could abandon the eggs to their fate and resume his quest, but he would have to let all three eggs die. No mater how badly he wanted to learn about the world; the young man could not surrender the helpless eggs to their destruction.
The young man did the only thing he could think of. He climbed into the large nest and covered the eggs. He crouched over the eggs to protect them from the heat of the sun. He had chosen to protect the eggs with his own body.
The nest on top of the spire of stone never had a chance. The dry twigs and straw were heated by the sun until they burst into flame. The young man was surrounded by smoke as the nest burned. First the nest, then his clothes, then finally his own flesh caught flame. Pain and bitter smoke blinded the young man as he gave his life to protect the new life held with-in those red-gold eggs.
Harry was filled with morbid fascination. Fire and smoke obscured the young man from sight, but Harry couldn't look away from the scene. The smoke continued to billow up from the stone spire until it surrounded Harry in endless white clouds.
The young man felt the burning of his flesh as he tried to shelter the eggs from his own fate. Even as his body suffered, a corner of the young man's mind sorted through the experience. Even as his body was consumed by fire, the young man tried to learn from the experience.
Then the pain started to fade. The heat subsided. In a sense of wonder, the young man looked around. The nest was surrounded by flames, but was completely untouched. The eggs were safe and unharmed.
The flames died down and the clouds of smoke drifted away. The nest now rested on a raised dais at the head of a great marble hall. Bewildered, the young man slowly stood and stepped from the nest. When he found cool marble under his bare feet, the young man looked down on his own body. His clothes were gone. He now stood clad in a simple white tunic the hung to his knees. His attention was drawn back to his surroundings when a voice spoke to him.
"Welcome," The voice was rich and powerful. "You have traveled long and hard to join us." All around the marble hall men and women were appearing. Their ageless eyes were welcomed the young man. The speaker was a man with a powerful build and a young face, in spite of a full silver beard that reached to his chest. "You have been forged from the elements and tested in the fires of life. Behold the fruits of your labor.
A sharp cracking sound filled the hall. The young man turned to the nest to see the three eggs gently rocking as they started to hatch. The shells spit apart and liquid fire spilled forth. The nest was consumed by fire in and instant and three figures burst into the air. They were fantastic birds with plumage the color of flames.
"From your hardship and trials, you are like the Phoenix. You are born anew into a life a splendor and power." The speaker indicated the Phoenix that now flew over the young man. "Know that you are of a new order. You have earned your place with us. You will dwell in this place and you shall learn all that has been, all that there is, and al that will be."
And the young mad did dwell on the mountain for a time, and he did learn the ways and customs of the people there. Then he decided to take his leave. When the people asked him why he would want to leave he gave them the answer that was in his heart.
"Like the Phoenix, I have born into a new life. It is time for me to live again. There is no fire here to test me. There is no limit here to give meaning to what I learn. To be a Phoenix is to live through the trials of life and to grow stronger. I must leave this nest and return to the world of fires and hardships."
Harry watched as the scene faded around the man. The man spread his arms and a fire sprang up to engulf his body. The man was transformed into a golden Phoenix and soared into a sky that was turning into a starry night. Harry watched the golden Phoenix flight up into the sky where it was met by a red Phoenix that Harry knew. Fawkes and the golden Phoenix flew around each other in an aerial dance for a time. Then they flew together and Harry watched them pass over the staff tables. Fawkes landed on the back of the headmaster's chair. The golden Phoenix then flew the length of the great hall that had reappeared, to come to rest on the shoulder of the story teller.
"It is the custom," The voice of the story teller was firm and strong and showed no sign of wear after talking for so long. "That when an individual has demonstrated the courage and the determination to face the fires of hardship to do the right thing, that they should be recognized for their efforts. When a person is willing to risk them self in the fires of life to save another that person is reborn as a hero." The story teller raised his head and cast back the hood of his cloak. Harry was stunned to see the face of Gary Stone.
"Tonight we are gathered to recognize the heroes of Hogsmeade," The voice of Albus Dumbledore brought everyone's attention back to the head table. "As I call their names, they will please come up and receive this token of admiration." The headmaster held up a tightly rolled scroll that was tied by a red ribbon with a long golden quill passed through the bow.
Professor Dumbledore started by calling off a list of the school staff. It was apparent that he had not shared his complete plans for the evening from the number of startled expressions from the professors. Harry realized that the headmaster was not being totally truthful in his presentation of honors. Harry knew that he had seen Professor Snape during the battle, but he was absent from the row of teachers called forward to be recognized.
After the teachers had been presented their scrolls and quills, the headmaster thanked them again and they quickly returned to their seats. Next, Professor Dumbledore called out a list of Hogwarts residents to be recognized. Some were thanked for their courage and participation in the battle. Others, like the matron of the Three Broomsticks were recognized for their calm thinking and their help for keeping students out of harms way. When they returned to their seats, Harry knew his turn was coming soon.
The headmaster started to call off the names of the students that had stood with Harry during the Battle of Hogsmeade. Every student called looked as nervous as a first year being called to put on the sorting hat. Ron had to prod Hermione in the ribs to get her into motion when her name was called. Cho stood when her name was called, but had to be given a little push by her grandfather. When Ron was called he turned as white as a sheet as he stood up, only to blush sunset red when he heard his mother's voice.
"Oh, my precious baby," Mrs. Weasley nearly cried.
"And finally," Professor Dumbledore said in a merry voice. "Hogwarts own champion, Harry Potter." Trying not to look like a wood doll, Harry smiled weakly as he made his way up to the head table. When he reached his headmaster, he accepted the scroll and quill in his left hand and shook hands with his right. "You are doing fine Harry," Professor Dumbledore said softly. "Feel up to saying a few words?" Harry nodded and the headmaster gestured him to go ahead. Harry turned to face the filled tables of the great hall and took a small step forward.
"Thank you all for honoring my fellow students and the other people that made victory in Hogsmeade possible," Harry tried to keep his voice level as he spoke, and very deliberately did not say anything that suggested he was enjoying the attention. "Remember, when there is a challenge in the future, there is no problem too big for us to solve together. Thank you." At the first clap Harry started back to his seat. The other students followed a little slower.
Once back in his seat, Harry felt that the worst was over for the night and was able to relax. As his friends returned to their seats, Harry took a moment to examine the scroll and quill. Engraved in silver letter along the spine of the quill was the message…
"Presented in recognition of courage. To Harry Potter. From the Order of the Phoenix."