Song for this chapter: Colorblind by Counting Crows


As had somehow become normal in my life somehow, I woke up in partial darkness. The lamp was still on, but the sun had gone down. Habitually, I checked my watch, and I saw that is was 4:00 a.m. on July 7th. I'd made it to see another day. I wriggled my way into a sitting position and I saw what I thought was likely the reason I had woken up. Fawkes was seated on the end of my bed staring at me with sadness in his eyes.

I couldn't explain it, but I just knew what was supposed to happen next, as if it were a ritual I had participated in before, and I already knew all of the steps, even if intellectually knew that was not the case. I slid out of the blankets and down to the foot of the bed so I was seated directly in front of him. I had never realized before now that he was such a tall bird. While seated on the bed his face was level with mine.

He made the slightest of cooing sounds, and I knew that meant I was supposed to fold me wings, or arms as it were at the moment, in and lean in to him. So I did that, and he spread his wide wings out and wrapped them around me in the softest version of a hug that I had ever participated in. His body temperature rose slowly as he trilled a sad song to me and some of the horrible tension that had been present in my muscles began to bleed away. It didn't have words, but Fawkes was apologizing to me for my loss and my pain.

When the heat got particularly high, and began to make my own temperature rise, he released me from within the cocoon of his wings. Again I simply knew what was supposed to happen next, so I tilted my head back from the prone position I was in, and I allowed Fawkes to tilt his head to the side and cry a single tear directly into my mouth. It felt incredibly cold in comparison to all the heat that was still enveloping me despite the removal of his wings from my person. It slid down my throat into my stomach, and I felt a sense of rightness began to radiate through my entire body. I didn't feel entirely healed by any means, but I began to feel as if there would be a time when I would be. Fawkes sang louder, his beautiful birdsong raising the hairs on my arms as he promised me with his music that my life would get better.

"Thank you," I whispered when his song finally ended and the room fell surprisingly quiet around us.

He gave me one last coo, and then he gathered his energy inward, burning with bright light before he simply disappeared from my room. Understanding instinctively again what I should do, I scooted my way back up to the head of the bed, and I began picking at the food that remained. I felt the stasis charm drop when I grabbed a bit of chicken, and I wondered how Snape had managed that little bit of magic. It was nice that the food still had not grown cold, and it still tasted amazing.

I drank the last of the pumpkin juice, and then I realized that I had a new and more pressing dilemma. I needed to go to the bathroom, and there was not a bathroom in this bedroom. I was going to have to leave. It was still very early, and the others were probably still sleeping. I decided to take the risk, and slowly pulled my door open.

I peeked my head out into the hallway, and I saw that no one was there. So far, so good, I thought to myself. I tiptoed down the hall, looking for a bathroom. I tapped each door as I passed, just looking in a bit, to see if it was a bathroom. I passed and empty bedroom, a library, and another bedroom that looked like it might have someone sleeping in it, before I pushed open the right door.

I sighed in relief, and hurried inside, closing the door firmly behind me. When I had finished with my business I thought it might be a good idea to take a shower. I was already out of the bedroom after all. I ran the shower water as hot as it would go, and I stripped out of my clothes. I climbed into the small shower stall and took what was probably the longest shower of my life. I showered until the water had run cold, which was quite the feat in a magical building. I didn't climb out of the shower until the entire room was so full of steam from the heated water that I could hardly see the room around me.

I dried myself off, careful to be delicate with the towel on my still healing skin. I still felt a bit raw, but because of the efforts of Madam Pomfrey and Fawkes, I knew it would be better soon enough. I put on the clothes I had worn in. I found a brush sitting on a shelf and I drug it through my hair. Going two weeks without brushing my hair left a fair bit of tangles to be dealt with, but at least the matting that had started came out with the conditioner I had used. It was nice to have something as simple as brushing my hair to focus on.

I gathered my courage, and wiped the steam from the mirror so I could take a look at myself. I didn't recognize the girl looking back at me. She had a swollen face, and a black eye. There was a split in her lip, but her eyes were what really bothered me. I could see the blue irises that should mean they were mine, but the rest of the eye was bloodshot and just looked dead. Those couldn't be mine. I had to look away.

I decided that I didn't want to be in the bathroom anymore. The door stuck a bit, possibly having swollen from the heat, so I had to really pull on it to get it open. When I did, steam billowed out around me, and I was shocked to find myself face to face with Ron. I sucked in a deep breath of the hot bathroom air, but he quickly placed his hand over my mouth to stop what he seemed to think was going to happen.

"Please don't scream," he pleaded. "I didn't mean to scare you. I thought someone else was in there."

I just breathed against his hand. It was ragged, but I wasn't screaming so that had to count for something. Especially since someone was touching me.

"I know everything is really messed up right now," he went on. "I can't fix everything, but I think I can fix something. I think I know what you need right now."

I sighed against his hand, waiting for his answer. I needed a solution, so I would take his if he offered one. I didn't even stop to think about the fact that he was still touching me.

"You need to see him," he whispered. "My mum always says that when we lose someone, we have to have closure or we can never get through it. You need closure."

That was all it took for me to start crying again. I nodded my head, and the tears started to fall harder. I did need to see him. I knew I couldn't ever truly see Cedric again, but I needed to see where he was now. It would help. I knew it would.

"I can get my mum to take us," he said quickly. "I will run and wake her up."

He started to move away from me, to go get his mum, but I grabbed his hand as it was falling away fro my mouth. I gripped his hand as tightly as I could and I went with him. Now that I had let him near me, had let him touch me, I couldn't seem to let him leave me. I couldn't understand what exactly had changed, though I thought it might have something to do with Fawkes' magic, but it had changed none-the-less.

He led me quietly to the room his parents were sleeping in. He pushed the door open and led me into the room, and despite my resolve my heart raced at how dark the room was. He pulled me with him over to the bed. He gently shook his mother away, and she lurched into awareness. She sat up, looking around her with frightened eyes before they landed on us and relaxed just slightly.

"What?" she gasped. "How did you?"

"It doesn't matter," he said quickly, cutting her off before she could ask any other questions. "Will you take us to the cemetery please?"

"Right now?" she asked, looking at the dark window.

"Yes, right now," I whispered in a froggy voice. "I want to go now. Please."

"Yes baby," she said softly as she pulled herself out of bed, and for a moment it felt like I was one of her children. "Let me get my robes on. I will meet you two at the door."

Ron pulled me back out of the room, and I could hear Molly explaining the situation to a very confused and half asleep Arthur as we hurried away. We stopped at the foot of the stairs, and I looked around us at this strange house while Ron dropped my hand and went over to a coat rack and grabbed a cloak. My attention was pulled away from the house-elf heads mounted on the wall when he threw it over my shoulders and buttoned it for me. I knew I should be doing that myself, but my body didn't seem to follow simple instructions such as lift hand, button cloak. He stepped away to pull on the second cloak just as Molly came down the stairs to join us. She pulled her own cloak on in silence.

She held out both of her hands, and Ron took one. When I didn't do anything he nodded to her other hand, and I realized I was supposed to take it. My hand shook as I grasped hers, but her grip was strong and warm. She turned and everything pressed in around us. It was only then that it clicked in my mind. Apparition. I supposed that made sense, we couldn't really floo into a cemetery could we? The pressure stopped, and we were standing in a mostly dark cemetery on the edge of town. I didn't recognize the buildings nearby, but I assumed we were still in London. The sun was just barely starting to come up, so there was a pink light beginning to trickle in around us. It made it easier to read the headstones.

We let go of Molly's hands and for a moment we all just stood there. Both of them watched me carefully. I knew that it was in front of me, if I read it, I would see Cedric's name on a headstone, but I wasn't ready to look just yet. We all stood there in silence and I was grateful for their patience. As the sun broke over the horizon, its rays danced over the aisles created by the headstones. It felt like a sign that it was time. I had to look.

I looked down, and I was staring at the shiny black obsidian stone in front of me. Cedric Diggory was carved into the stone in beautiful print. My whole body shook as I stared at it, but I had to keep looking. I let my eyes scan lower and I saw that it said beloved son and honorable man. That was true. I was shaking so hard it felt like I was having another seizure, but I couldn't stop yet. I had to look at the last part. 1977-1995, there was so much that just couldn't be said with that tiny dash between the numbers.

That was all I could stand, and I wasn't certain if it was entirely emotion or just pure physical exhaustion as well that drained all the life from me. My legs started to give out beneath me, so I carefully lowered myself onto the ground to avoid injury. I crawled over so I could lie on top of his grave. The tears over took me once more as I sunk into the grass there. I fisted that grass in my hand, and I wished it were his hand I was holding instead. I could never hold his hand again, and I needed that to really sink in for me. I lay there on my side, cuddled up near the headstone, staring into space as I tried to come to terms with my loss.

Eventually Ron appeared in my eye line. He was laying in the grass as well, in front of me, his face somber, and he extended his hand out to me. I took it, and the gentle pressure of his fingers helped loosen the cage around my heart a bit. The tears didn't stop, but I hurt just a little bit less. He closed both of his hands around mine, and rubbed them back and forth creating warmth. I let out a shaky breath, trying to get the tears to stop.

"Is it any better?" he asked quietly. "I feel like maybe I made it worse."

"No," I shuddered. "It's a little better. I need to be here."

He nodded, and he stayed on the ground with me, just waiting. I was grateful that he stayed. It made my heart a little lighter with someone else to share the weight for a bit. The sun slowly rose higher and it grew warmer. I didn't need a cloak anymore, but I didn't move to take it off. We lay there for a very long time before I felt like I could breathe normally again. It took time for me to feel like I might be able to move again.

"I think I am ready to go now," I said, sitting up and letting go of Ron's hand. "I'm ready."

"Okay," he said softly, standing quickly and reaching down to help me up. "Okay."

We walked back to Molly who was still waiting patiently a few feet away. I could see tear tracks on her face, and in the early morning light I saw that her face was crinkled with worry, but she said nothing. It was a strange experience to see the motion flicker over her face as she watched her son walk me away from the grave of the man that I loved. It was the first time that I saw humanity from the outside looking in since I had been born. I think it was the first moment I truly understood how different I was. I felt so connected to everyone around me, and yet I could not be more different from any of them could I?

I took Molly's hand once more, and allowed her to pull me through space as she apparated us back to the same dingy entryway we had left earlier this morning. It had been empty when we left, but now the silver hair wizard whose name had ruled my life as of late was standing at the foot of the stairs waiting patiently. If he didn't look so sad I might have thought he was waiting for an appointment.

"Good morning," he said softly. "Are you ready to talk now?"

"Yes," I said, giving in easily, much too tired to fight anymore.

"Why don't we go to the kitchen and have a spot of tea?" he offered kindly, presenting his arm should I choose to take it.

I did take it, telling myself that if I could touch Ron I could touch the man I saw as my father. He led me to the kitchen, and I let him coddle me as we sat. I knew things were going to get difficult again very quickly, and I would not begrudge him a moment of peace. We were in the kitchen I had first appeared in, but surprisingly I felt nothing. We each took a seat on either side of the table. I waited for him to speak first, and he was just watching me with his fingers pressed together resting under his chin.

"I know it is going to be difficult," he finally spoke. "But I need you to tell me everything that happened, starting from when you disappeared."

So I started. I told him about how my Defense Against the Dark Arts final had ended, and how the test papers were a portkey. I glossed over the graveyard quickly, both because I was sure Harry had already told him, and because it hurt to think about what had taken place there. I told him about the twelve days in the dungeon at Malfoy Manor, or what I could make sense of them anyway. I tried to explain the confusing parts, but I couldn't make them make sense to myself so I doubted they made sense to Albus. I took faith in knowing that Severus Snape would obviously have been informing him about me as well and likely explained some of my less focused moments to him with much more ease. I stopped on my appearance in the kitchen, and I waited. I had questions of my own, but I wanted to hear what he had to say first.

"You have been very brave," he said softly. "You have done much more than anyone would have the right to ask of you."

"But you would have asked, if you had been given the chance, wouldn't you?" I asked quietly. "I know you told him to tell me I could talk, but you didn't mean that did you? If you had been able to speak with me, wouldn't you truthfully have said that you wished for me to keep my silence? Didn't you say that I could speak knowing that I would not do it?"

"Yes… I suppose I would have," he said after a long spell of silence. "I have confided some deep secrets in you. Perhaps more than I should have burdened such a young girl with."

"But I am not a young girl, not really," I sighed. "So I suppose that it's not too much to ask of me."

"Perhaps," he said so quietly it almost could not be heard. "But I would feel just as guilty asking any adult member of the Order to do what you did."

"I'd like to know more of the Order now," I said, moving into business quickly. "It doesn't seem to have come up much in all of our conversations, and I am surprised at that."

"The Order of the Phoenix is something between a secret society and an army," he explained, not seeming to take offense to my forwardness. "I created it during the years that Voldemort was in power last. All of the members do their best to fight back, just as they did before."

"Snape is in the Order?" I asked.

"Professor Snape Bianca," he chided softly.

"He and I have been through enough together that I think I can call him Susan if I really want to," I snapped before taking a calming breath. "I'm sorry. That was rude."

"You are angry, I understand that," he said forgivingly. "Yes, Severus is in the Order."

"Before all of this, I might have asked you if he was truly on our side, but I could never question that now," I said softly. "I am certain I would not have lived, nor even kept my sane mind without him. He is certainly loyal to you if not to me."

"Yes, I believe he is well and truly on the side of the Order," Albus said firmly.

"He has a truly awful job. To lie to that man…" I sighed, struggling for the right words. "It is so difficult. I can't imagine walking into that place willingly."

"Severus is a strong and brave man," he nodded. "I think he has a very good heart, no matter how he might try to hide it."

"So people know he's a spy?" I asked.

"It is not for public consumption per say," Albus hedged. "However the Order members know, and there are ministry people who know from the last war. Otherwise he would have been convicted as a Death Eater."

"Isn't it quite dangerous for the Order to know he's a spy?" I pushed. "I mean its dangerous enough to even be a spy, but for so many to know his true loyalty… he could be killed."

"Many of the Order are not entirely convinced of his loyalty," Albus said sadly. "That does however lend credence that he isn't on our side… so it keeps his cover more intact."

"I don't like it," I sighed, folding my arms over my chest. "He'll never be my favorite teacher, but he was there for me in a very dark place. I struggle to stomach him returning to that place again and again at great personal risk."

"It is terrible, but he serves the greater good," Albus explained, and while I knew he was right I hated it.

We sat in silence for a bit. I was thinking about how gentle Snape could actually be, and wondering why he hid that from the world. It looked as Albus was thinking quite a bit as well.

"Where is Harry?" I asked after a long time. "Why isn't he here?"

"He has to stay with your aunt and uncle for a little while," he explained. "He has to establish that as his home once more to maintain the blood ward protection afforded to him by the connection to Petunia. That must happen before he can leave again."

"Can I go there?" I asked, surprised by the slight quake in my voice. "Can I see him?"

"I don't think that is best," he said with a frown. "Harry cannot be given sensitive information right now. As you have just gotten free, I would like to keep your whereabouts under wraps right now."

"But from my own brother?" I asked.

"I don't think he is entirely your brother right now," he told me quietly. "I'm still researching this of course, but I think the dreams he has of Tom stem from a mental connection between the two of them."

"So you are keeping him in the dark, because you think Voldemort might realize he can look into his mind for information?" I sighed, feeling even older than I had before. "Are you going to tell Harry this?"

"Not just yet," he said quietly. "He is going through a difficult time right now. It would be… too much of a burden on him."

"Burdens," I laughed darkly, and it was a tin filled sound. "They are all about to get quite heavy now aren't they?"

"Yes," he said with a sadness that nearly drowned the twinkle in his eyes.

"I'm ready to take on a bigger burden," I said firmly. "I'm ready to be a part of the Order."

"You are not of age yet," he argued weakly.

"I'm pretty sure I'm older than you," I pointed out with a smirk. "I don't perhaps have the magical training of someone older, but I can get there. I think the Order is the right fit for me."

"So you've come to the same conclusion as I have," he nodded.

"Of course I have," I said with a shake of the head. "And that flame travel seems to rather cement the fact that I must be a phoenix reincarnate does it not?"

"Yes… If I were to say yes to this, I believe that you would meet resistance," he pointed out conversationally. "Especially since you and I are probably the only two that truly believe you are a phoenix."

"We don't have to tell people that," I said with a shrug. "You have their respect, all you have to do is give your approval and they will not challenge you."

"That may be true," he said. "But should I give my approval?"

"It wouldn't make sense not to," I said plainly. "You know me. You know I am going to be a part of this war no matter what. So will I do it with experienced fighters? Or will I do it with the help of a few students with less training than I have?"

"If I say yes, you cannot channel information to your friends," he said sternly. "If I say yes, you have to make the same commitment of secrecy that the other members have made. Are you prepared to have to keep secrets from your closest friends? From you brother?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. I did not have to think about it when I knew that this was what I needed in order to move forward from what had happened. "If there is one thing I have grown to understand lately it is the idea of the greater good. Sometimes the safety of the majority is more important than that of the individual. If I have to lie to get us there, then I am prepared for that."

"Then you have my approval," he said quietly. "Your first test on that promise will come very soon. Hermione and Ron are both here, and if you attend the meeting they will demand information from you."

"I believe I have already demonstrated my ability to remain silent under the most extensive questioning, but perhaps I should attend in secret," I suggested.

"Perhaps," he said with a smile. "We could explain your absences away as attending therapy sessions."

I gave a stiff nod to that.

"I actually think it might be best that we schedule an actual session with Filius as well," he said very quietly.

I could only nod. I wasn't sure I had words. Conversation wound down quickly after that and I decided to go back to my room. I wanted to try and get a bit more sleep, and frankly I was sore. I did not however make it past the stairs. Hermione and Ron were sitting at the top of the stairs waiting patiently for me. I stopped halfway up and offered them the best smile I could muster. It felt fairly pitiful.

"Hey," Ron said quietly.

"Hey," I replied. "Thanks for taking me this morning."

"It was nothing," he said softly, a slight blush creeping into his cheeks.

"Well it meant a lot to me," I told him somewhat vehemently. "So what are you guys doing?"

"We may have ditched out of more cleaning to wait for you…" Hermione admitted guiltily.

"Cleaning?" I asked.

"Mum has us decontaminating the whole place," Ron explained. "No one has lived here in years. Things are a bit… dodgy."

"I think Ginny told me about this house, bit it's a little fuzzy. Where are we again?" I asked, looking around at the gloomy house, still a bit repulsed by those house-elf heads mounted on the wall.

"This is Grimmauld Place," she explained. "This house is owned by Sirius, he is letting the Order use it as headquarters."

"Okay," I said with a nod, my mind already flitting to a new subject. "So what room are we cleaning now?"

"We are finishing up the last of the bedrooms," Ron grumbled. "I fell like a house-elf."

"Good," Hermione snapped. "Maybe now you will think about how they are treated like slaves."

"Lead the way to the dust bunnies," I said, if only to stop myself from chiding Hermione or starting to fight.

We cleaned for hours, until every last bedroom was inhabitable. After seeing the state of them I understood the need to decontaminate the house. The Black family appeared to have a taste for dark magic. There were all sorts of things lurking about the house. It dawned on me that perhaps getting the drawer of the vanity in my room open was not such a good idea.

When it started to get late, we went down to the kitchen and had sandwiches that Molly had made. We shared light conversation, even if I didn't really talk all that much, and everyone avoided any reference to the fact that I had been missing or to my time in self enforced isolation. It was a bit overwhelming to be around so many people but I managed to handle it with somewhat shaky grace. We finished eating and people started heading off to take showers. I lingered in the kitchen, when Snape was finishing up a cup of coffee.

"Can I ask you something sir?" I asked, returning to formality despite what I had said to Albus earlier in the day.

"You may," he drawled, and I shouldn't have been surprised that he lacked snark but a part of me still was even after everything else.

"How did you know that the red wine gums are my favorite?" I asked, amused at the confusion on his face. "Not to mention why did you bother at all flavoring a potion, that never seems to be something you care about."

"I didn't flavor that concoction," he explained with a bland look on his face. "That is an interesting side effect. Admittedly I took a bit of a risk giving that to you. It was the first time I had thrown something of that nature together. Would you care to tell me anything else that it caused?"

"If you first answer me this," I hedged. "Did you give me an untested potion?"

"I did," he admitted, and he had the good grace to look guilty. "It was an educated guess mind you, but I took the risk that should it poison you, you would die much better off than you had been before I had given it to you. I was unaware of this more flamboyant travel method you are aware of, and I had begun to truly fear I would not get you out of there before you died. I wished you to have a small piece of comfort even if I could only offer it for a moment."

"Thank you," I said, my eyes dropping to the table. "There was one other thing I guess. You could describe it of deliriousness I suppose, but my connection to what was real and what wasn't was very altered the next day. I was certain I would be receiving visitors who would be bringing me candy. Nothing about that felt odd at the time however. It did seem to make me crave sweets however."

"I wonder if that would be the case for any drinker," he mused. "Or if that is directly related to you having tasted wine gums when it touched your tongue. That I believe has to do with the particular sprig of mint I added to counter balance nose tweaking. I had been borderline outdated, but I was in a rush to get to you with the other potion and I knew I was unlikely to get another opportunity to bring in potion bottles. I believe it altered the makeup of the potion enough to give it hallucinogenic properties. In another perhaps they would have thought they were trying to drink a solid, or imagined there was a symphony playing somewhere nearby. I think the sweetness may have been specific to your own mind. Do you tend to favor a sweet tooth, like Albus?"

"I don't believe I do," I thought out loud. "But I do tend to think of them as a prize or a kindness. Perhaps my mind was simply that desperate for something nice."

"Perhaps," he said, his eyebrows knitting together for a moment before his face smoothed out again. "I should do further research on this concoction."

He stood from the table, and I understood that to be a dismissal from the conversation. I wondered if he was uncomfortable with how unlike a student teacher conversation it sounded. It was like for a moment he had forgotten I was not yet a fifth year. I could understand how easy it was to forget, considering how many boundaries had been trod all over during my time in captivity. My world felt so strange. I tried to push that from my mind as I made my way up to the bathroom I had used fairly recently to take another shower. It was occupied however so I went to my room and saw that my guitar was sitting on the bed. Sometimes Albus was not at all subtle.

I sat on the bed next to the guitar but I did not play it. I just stared at it for a long time until I dared to slide my fingers over the smooth wood. A part of me wanted to play it, because I knew it would make me feel better. But another part of me felt like it might not make me feel better at all. What if that had changed too? I was afraid to find out.

I just sat there with it until it was my time to shower. I rushed through showering so I could go to bed, my poor beaten body begging for sleep. I felt drained, but as soon as I closed the door and walked over to the bed, I once again felt wide-awake. Perhaps because it had grown dark outside, and that knowledge made me nervous. So I sat on the bed once more, still staring at the guitar. I checked my watch, hoping it would make me feel better, and I saw that it was two in the morning. I looked back to the guitar; maybe I would be able to fall asleep after playing?

I picked the guitar up, and I started to strum a bit. The sound was pleasant, and the way the strings felt against my fingers was soothingly familiar. I tried to remember one of the songs I had written in the past but I was drawing a blank. I tried not to get upset about that; surely they would come back with time. I just kept strumming, waiting for something to come to me. Eventually the notes did fall into a rhythm, but it was not an old song. I found words were forming themselves in my mind, and I was compelled to sing them. I kept putting it off, strumming longer, and avoiding how I knew I would feel when I finally said them out loud. Eventually I couldn't put it off any longer, the tears were coming either way, so I figured I might as well just let it go. I started to sing.

..

the lyrics for The Lonely by Christina Perri can be found on google.

..