I managed to escape death on the Millenium Bridge, but that didn't mean I was safe. After this incident, there were several times when I had to run for my life from attacks that were targeted at me. Every time I escaped by a whisker and I couldn't have done it without the help of Fawkes. The phoenix simply knew when I needed him and never hesitated to come to my aid.
My seemingly calm days were over and I felt like my life was hanging by a thread. That was Voldemort's order – to end me once and for all whatever it takes. Death Eaters mercilessly murdered Muggles around me, anyone who happened to be near me was sentenced to death. However, they never used magic openly, and just like the strike at the Millenium Bridge, all the other attempts were masked by circumstances that could be taken for ordinary criminal activity or accidents.
The first time took place in a library that I visited to get additional literature for my studies. There were several people with me in the particular section and I was going through different books trying to find something that would help with an essay on the most important events in UK history. Suddenly, there was a loud crash, the walls caved in and the building around me started to break. I fell to the floor like everyone else, covering my head, trying to avoid the debris that came crashing down from the ceiling. In front of my eyes, people were literally smashed into bloody puddles by the heavy concrete blocks and panels. I coughed from the kicked up dust as the library was falling apart like a house of cards.
And then, out of nowhere, Fawkes was there. Without delay, the phoenix grabbed me by the shoulder. A flash of dazzling light and when I reorientated, I was back in my room. Dirty, bruised, and scared, but alive.
The authorities claimed this catastrophe to be an unpredictable accident. The library was ancient, built nearly 200 years old and despite annual renovations, the building apparently simply couldn't stand any longer. That's what the government, architects, and investigators unanimously announced. Only I knew the truth. That library would have probably stood for another 200 years if I wasn't there that day.
The Dark Wizards didn't stop. Fueled by their deadly determination, they knew I wasn't dead and each failed attempt apparently angered them more and more. The Death Eaters attacked the cafe I bought coffee from, my old high school when I went to submit the written tests and tasks, the movie theatre I went to see the latest blockbuster, and the new shopping center that opened just at the beginning of the year because I entered to buy flowers for my parents' anniversary.
Each disaster slashed a new wound in my heart. I felt a tremendous amount of shock and guilt. Eventually, I was afraid to set a foot outside my house and I was afraid to stay inside. I worried that the whole town would be destroyed because of me and I worried that they would demolish my home if I didn't come out. The contradictions of whether I should tell my parents what was going on or not were tearing me apart.
Magic appeared to me in an entirely different light. Once charmed by its wonders and unearthly possibilities, now I saw nothing more than death in it. I had never been suicidal before but during that time the possibility of taking my own life and end this before they could often seemed like the best option to me.
For a while, the victims were people I didn't know personally. Then the circle started to enclose, invisibly, but evidently slinking closer and closer to my house. On April 10th, a family of seven were found dead in their house on my block. April 11th brought another grisly news – an elderly couple was found lifeless in their backyard, their house on the street parallel to mine. Since none of the bodies had any visible signs of struggle, the police didn't consider it a homicide. According to the law enforcement, all the deceased were " just dead ", and assumed it had happened due to natural causes.
Ms. Haigh and I briefly discussed it when we ran into each other near our houses. The neighbor looked very different that day, I noticed that immediately. She was fresh and didn't smell bad, her clothes were ironed and clean, her hair was washed and tied into a neat bun and the old slippers were switched for shiny oxford-type shoes.
" Dear God, what's going on in our town, Thomas? " she was horrified as she read the newspaper. " People falling dead for no reason. I don't believe that health failed them all at the same time. "
I shrugged. " No idea, ma'am. Police will take care of that, I guess. But what has happened to you? You seem to have bloomed. "
She smiled a little and folded the newspaper. " I decided to take your advice and stop drinking. It's not easy, not at all, but I'm disposed to get my life in order. I have been sober for two weeks now and I signed up to Alcoholics Anonymous too. I don't ever want to hallucinate again and then make a fool out of myself trying to tell people my sick illusions. "
These were incredibly happy news and I smiled, not having done that for ages. I was genuinely glad Ms. Haigh had thought things over and understood that her addiction was indeed a problem. Even though her changes were based on lies and she would never find out that what she saw was real, I didn't regret it. If my deception was what it took for her to make a radical transformation in her life, it was worth it. That's what I thought, standing in her front yard. I didn't know at the moment that it was the last time I would see my neighbor alive.
The next day, April 12th, Ms. Haigh's dead body was found by her daughter who had finally decided to visit her mother. Apparently, Ms. Haigh had died in her bed, and her house had not been broken into, so the police came to a conclusion that the elderly woman had died in her sleep. Their argument was that alcoholics can develop life-threatening conditions rapidly and her heart must have stopped. Her daughter, my parents, and the other neighbors all believed it, but not me. Ms. Haigh hadn't been drinking for a good while. She wanted to get rid of her habit and her death wasn't caused by a medical issue. They had killed her. Because she knew me.
On April 19th, I was sitting in my room alone. It was late afternoon and my parents and I had just returned from Ms. Haigh's funeral. I felt as if I had lost someone very dear to me even though Ms. Haigh and my family had never been really close. Feeling immensely depressed and pondering over why did the neighbor had to die exactly when she was about to turn her life to the better side, I changed from my dress pants and shirt into usual jeans and T-shirt. That's when Fawkes on top of my shelf suddenly started raging.
" Quit it, Fawkes! " half-irritated I shushed the phoenix. " I'm not in the mood for games right now. "
But Fawkes didn't listen. The phoenix seemed alarmed and spooked, the violent flopping of his large, scarlet wings pushed the books down from the shelf and created a sound, almost equal to the shriek that escaped his throat – agonizing, heartbreaking, deranged. It seemed as if the phoenix was in physical pain, tortured by an executioner or something. He had never behaved like this before and I snapped out of my somber thoughts. Had the phoenix fallen ill?
" Calm down, Fawkes! What's the matter with you? "
Fawkes flew down from the shelf and grabbed the feather from my pen holder, the same one he had left on the doorstep of my house months ago. Then he jumped into my lap, the long, curved claws painfully dug into my thighs. Chirping anxiously, Fawkes pushed the feather into my hand, pressed his soft, silky forehead against mine, and fell silent.
Confused as to what Fawkes was trying to tell me, I sat frozen in this position with a phoenix on my lap, our heads touching and my legs seemingly bleeding from the sharpness of his claws. And then, unanticipatedly, I heard a voice. A woman's voice. It sounded unpleasant, gravelly, and honeyed at the same time. But I didn't hear it with my ears. I heard it inside my mind.
" My Lord, I'd like to volunteer for this task. I want to kill the boy. "
My heart skipped a beat and before I could comprehend what I heard, another voice answered. A cold, shrill, sinister voice.
" As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix, I must be the one to kill Harry Potter. "
Hearing Harry's name made me want to howl in pain, yet I was glad he was apparently still alive. I knew that the male speaking was Voldemort. I realized I had already heard his voice before, in the dreams that haunted me when I was in Hogwarts, the dreams due to which Dumbledore separated Harry and me.
" But you, Bella, will have another, no less important task, " Voldemort continued. " Go and kill Thomas. Seems like you're the only one who won't fail. As long as the mudblood's alive, I can never truly be in peace. If he won't live to serve me, he won't live at all. "
The woman, Bellatrix, cackled in an unfathomable satisfaction like a child who's allowed to skip a day of school. Then their voices became distant, unclear, and muffled as if some sort of connection had been lost. Fawkes moved his head away and cried out. He was warning me of incoming danger.
Over time, I had learned to relatively communicate with Fawkes very much like with a human. If phoenix nodded, it meant " yes " and if he shook the crest of feathers on top of his head, it meant " no. " Fawkes understood human speech perfectly even if he wasn't able to answer audibly.
" Is she coming here? " I asked the phoenix, my voice trembling with every word.
Fawkes nodded and my heart fell into a black abyss. I didn't know at the time that Bellatrix was the most devoted follower of Voldemort, loyal like a dog and would do anything to please her lord. Nonetheless, the concept of having a Dark Witch not only in my neighborhood but inside my own house was enough to sweat with fear. Maybe she was the one who murdered Ms. Haigh and now, now it was my turn.
" Today? " I asked and Fawkes nodded.
" When? At the night? "
Fawkes shook his head.
" In an hour? Two hours? Three hours? "
The scarlet feathers danced furiously as Fawkes was shaking his head. He lifted one foot and started to knock onto the side of my nightstand with his claw. One, two, three...ten times. Horror caught me in its jaws.
" Ten minutes? " I asked and Fawkes nodded.
Feeling nothing but the blind terror I dashed downstairs, my legs wobbly with fear. Suddenly I wasn't worried about Bellatrix's arrival anymore. Whatever happens, happens, I thought. But I wasn't alone in the house. My parents were here as well and killing them in front of me would probably be a dessert for the Dark Witch. I had to get them as far from the house as possible in a short amount of time and in my head, I pleaded they wouldn't start to argue with me. Only 9 minutes were left.
" Mum! Dad! You have to leave immediately! " I yelled from the top step already. " You need to go now! "
My parents were sitting in the living room, still in the formal clothes they wore at the funeral. Great, I thought, at least they won't have to spend time changing. They looked understandably mournful, as they knew Ms. Haigh for a long time, since they moved into this house which was years before I was even born. My scream visible startled them and they both looked at me with their eyes widened in surprise.
" What's wrong, Thomas? " my mother asked. " Why are you acting so bizarre? This is not a time for jokes, at all. "
" You need to leave the house, both of you! " I urged, my voice much louder than I'd like it to be. " A witch is coming here after me. An evil witch. You need to go or she'll kill you too. "
" A witch, here? And an evil one? Well, let her try! " my father got up, sounding way too courageous for my liking. " I'll put her in her place. I'm the man of the house after all! "
Maybe the death of fueled him in the wrong direction and made him think that here, in his house, my father was invincible and will protect his family like an Alpha male. I looked at my watch. 8 minutes were left and I started to despair, knowing how stubborn my father could be when he believed in something and how difficult it was to convince him otherwise.
" You cannot do anything to stop her, dad. We're Muggles, remember? Magic is not all about turning salt and pepper shakers into pretty butterflies or making the dishes wash for you. There are plenty of dark spells that can make you drop dead instantly. "
" Well, but how can we simply leave like this, Thomas, " my mother stood up, speaking as if she'd want to scold me but her hands were clutching nervously, betraying her real emotions. " Let us pack some stuff, at least. Clothes, food, toiletries... "
" No time for that, " I interrupted her impatiently. 7 minutes were left. " She'll be here in a bit more than 5 minutes. You'll buy everything on the way. "
" Yeah, you think we're so rich, don't you, " my father muttered under his breath and then glanced at me suspiciously, " also, what does it mean – you'll buy everything? "
I sighed. " It means you're going without me. I'm staying here. "
My parents both gazed at me with their eyes gaped and I could see the blood leaving mother's face, making her pale as a paper. For the first time in a very long time, my father was visibly scared, his confidence gone and he almost looked shrunken. Still fairly lacking the understanding of how magic worked, they knew that the fate I was trying to spare them from was going to happen to me. It was like watching your child heading on a suicide mission to avoid you being slaughtered instead. 6 minutes were left.
" No, Thomas! " my mother embraced me tightly and I could see the glint of tears forming in the inner corner of her eyes. " I absolutely refuse to leave you here alone with her! Just because I can't do magic, doesn't mean I can't put up a fight. Your dad and me, we'll protect you with all we got! How could you think we would leave without you? "
For a moment, I saw an image of Harry's mother in my mind. A young woman with bright green eyes and dark red hair guarding the cradle of her newborn son and dying at the hands of the cruelest wizard just because she refused to step aside. I could see Lily Potter in my mother's eyes only I wasn't going to allow her to make the sacrifice Harry's mother made for him. 5 minutes were left.
" No point for me to join you, mum. She wants to kill me and wherever I go, she'll follow. But I won't be alone. I have Fawkes. "
I was raised quite strictly and my parents didn't always give in to my demands. As a child, I was taught what the word " no " meant sooner than I was able to walk. At times, it irritated the hell out of me, especially when I was forbidden to do something most of my peers were allowed to do. Normally those were things that wouldn't be very beneficial to me, but my childish mind turned a deaf ear to that. It was only when I got older when I realized that everything they did was for my wellbeing only.
Mother and father were good at telling the difference between when I was being capricious and when I really meant what I was saying. In the case of the first, I was usually told to calm down and think about my behavior. This time, however, they didn't object, because they had seen the wonders of magic too and knew I wasn't joking. 4 minutes were left.
We hurried outside and father drove the car out of the garage. My parents took nothing with them except for their outdoor clothes, wallets, and phones. I prayed that our car had enough fuel in it and won't die at the next corner, making my efforts futile. Looking into the house through the window, I saw Fawkes sitting on the windowsill. The phoenix was waiting for both me and Bellatrix. And at that moment I got the answer to the question that preoccupied my head from time to time – why did Fawkes come to me to begin with? Magic will always come to your aid when you need it, Dumbledore's words echoed in my memory. The headmaster had sent his phoenix for my protection so that I wouldn't be alone when I return to the Muggle world.
" Just keep driving and don't stop for anything, " I said glancing at my watch. 3 minutes were left. " Don't stop until you're out of the town. She's not coming for you, so I think you should be fine as long as you're outside the area. I'll call you when it's safe to come back. And if I never call you...then never return and just know that I love you. "
Mother started to cry and seeing her tears was ripping my heart in half. Ever since I was a more or less reasonable child, I had promised myself that my mother would never cry because of me. And here she was, weeping tears of the size of peas. Because of me.
The hug from my father caught me by surprise. I couldn't remember the last time we hugged, normally my father limited himself to patting my shoulder or back only. But he obviously realized what I knew as well – that this might be the last time we see each other's faces. Mother had told me several times how much father had wanted a son when they were young and how he was crying the tears of happiness when I was born. He had gotten a son only to lose him 18 years later. 2 minutes were left.
" I'm so proud of you, Thomas, " he said in a choking voice. " Very proud. "
" Go, " I answered. There was no time to waste on farewell. " Hurry up. "
One minute was left when our car's engine whirred loudly and the tires screeched. It gained speed fast, dashed away, and soon become nothing but a dot in the distance. I watched it, feeling relieved I had managed to keep my parents out of the battlefield and spared them the sight of their son getting murdered. Because that's what I was sure was going to happen to me. I couldn't stand against a witch. After all, I was nothing but a Muggle.
Fawkes cried out shrilly. I ran back inside and closed the door behind me, feeling alone and hopeless, my hands cold and clammy and my heart thudding a hundred beats per minute. The thoughts of what the hell was I going to do flooded my head like a tsunami. Half mad with terror I paced back and forth all over the living room, even though I probably should have hidden somewhere. But what was the point of it? It wasn't gonna be like she would walk inside, glance around and leave just because I wasn't in her field of vision.
And then a swooshing crack made me jump out of my skin. The sound came from the front yard and I knew what it was. The first time I heard it was when professor McGonagall and Dumbledore came here a year ago to introduce me to the magical world. It was a noise caused by Apparation – a method of traveling in the wizarding world. Professor McGonagall and the headmaster used it to leave my house and now someone used it to arrive.
9