"Ow!" Harry's scar was burning. He sat up in bed, rubbing his scar. He thought of waking Ron but decided against it. Last time this had happened Voldemort had been right next to him. Harry whipped around, half expecting Voldemort to be standing over his bed. He looked at Ron sleeping, wondering for half a second if he should get him up. Harry shook his head.
He should tell Dumbledore. He should have the first time his scar hurt him. He was only a 15 year old wizard with an ineptitude for potions; Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard ever. It was obvious.
Harry got up, wrapping a bathrobe around him and put his slippers on. He had no time to get his Invisibility Cloak, he'd just have to risk hetting caught. Because he had to tell Dumbledore; what if Voldemort came now? Massaging his scar, Harry slipped downstairs and out the portrait hole, where he walked quickly towards Dumbledore's office. The castle was dark and shadowy at night, and Harry crossed his fingers hoping he wouldn't run into Filch or Peeves as he reached the second floor, straining his mind to remember where Dumbledore's office was.
"BOOM!"
There was an enormous explosion in the Entrance Hall. Harry ran down the last flight of stairs and suddenly stopped. Dumbledore was standing on the opposite staircase, his wand raised. His eyes were glowing with a fiery anger and his hat was frayed--it appeared someone had tried to curse him.
Harry looked down to see who Dumbledore was looking at-Harry gulped.
It was Professor Gingle, his back turned to Harry, holding Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, under one arm.
"Put the bird down!" Dumbledore said clearly.
"My Master needs him-" Professor Gingle said laughing maniacally.
Dumbledore was running down the stairs, agile for an old man. "Put the bird down!" he repeated, his voice now louder.
Professor Gingle caught sight of Harry. For a moment Harry considered running but he couldn't. His legs seemed frozen to the ground.
Suddenly Gingle lunged at Harry, grabbing him by his wrists and pointing his wand at him. He threw Fawkes to the ground.
"Have your bird, but the boy dies!" Gingle hissed. "Suffuco!"
Harry felt fear rushing through him; he couldn't breathe. It felt as though energy was being sucked out of him, his knees were growing weak. He felt so light headed.
And then Harry saw it, at the top of the ceiling-the cardinal. His mother would be with him when he died...
Dumbledore was saying something, but Harry couldn't hear, there was a dull drumming noise in his ears. Fawkes had flown to the top of the stairs and was singing a beautiful and mournful song.
Harry felt something well up inside him, he didn't know what. The phoenix's song was coursing through every vein in his body, he felt strong and brave.
The cardinal up in the rafters was twitching-it's beak kept biting it's wing-he couldn't stand the phoenix song. And Harry noticed, it was watching Gingle.
And then Harry had a sudden revelation. This bird wasn't his mother, it never was….
"Dumbledore! The cardinal in the rafters!" Harry said, through Gingle's arms. There was a loud bang and
Harry felt something wet on his arm-Gingle had used a Shearing Charm on his arm; blood was sinking through his robes. Pain coursing through him, Harry fell to the ground, gasping for air.
Dumbledores eyes got wide and he looked up at the cardinal, victory flashing on his face. "Stupefy!" he called, his blue eyes angry and powerful. The cardinal fell to the ground-and so did Gingle.
Fawkes gave a low warble and flew to Harry, laying his beautiful head on Harry's arm. He was crying. Where Harry's wound was, a pearly patch of tears replaced it.
Harry stroked Fawkes's head.
Dumbledore looked furious, but not at Harry. "Are you hurt?"
"No-look," Harry showed Dumbledore the patch of tears. "I just-I don't understand."
"I don't expect you to,' Dumbledore said. He picked up the tiny cardinal and muttered something under his breath. The bird rose into the air, and Fawkes let out an angry warble. But the cardinal was changing-it's wings became long arms, his feet replaced claws. He changed into a long, lean man of around forty.
"Rexby," Dumbledore said again. "Harry, go to the hospital wing."
"But….?"
"I'll explain everything later. Go to Madam Pomfrey."
And Harry, still feeling light-headed, went to the hospital wing, where he collapsed, all of his energy gone.
He should tell Dumbledore. He should have the first time his scar hurt him. He was only a 15 year old wizard with an ineptitude for potions; Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard ever. It was obvious.
Harry got up, wrapping a bathrobe around him and put his slippers on. He had no time to get his Invisibility Cloak, he'd just have to risk hetting caught. Because he had to tell Dumbledore; what if Voldemort came now? Massaging his scar, Harry slipped downstairs and out the portrait hole, where he walked quickly towards Dumbledore's office. The castle was dark and shadowy at night, and Harry crossed his fingers hoping he wouldn't run into Filch or Peeves as he reached the second floor, straining his mind to remember where Dumbledore's office was.
"BOOM!"
There was an enormous explosion in the Entrance Hall. Harry ran down the last flight of stairs and suddenly stopped. Dumbledore was standing on the opposite staircase, his wand raised. His eyes were glowing with a fiery anger and his hat was frayed--it appeared someone had tried to curse him.
Harry looked down to see who Dumbledore was looking at-Harry gulped.
It was Professor Gingle, his back turned to Harry, holding Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, under one arm.
"Put the bird down!" Dumbledore said clearly.
"My Master needs him-" Professor Gingle said laughing maniacally.
Dumbledore was running down the stairs, agile for an old man. "Put the bird down!" he repeated, his voice now louder.
Professor Gingle caught sight of Harry. For a moment Harry considered running but he couldn't. His legs seemed frozen to the ground.
Suddenly Gingle lunged at Harry, grabbing him by his wrists and pointing his wand at him. He threw Fawkes to the ground.
"Have your bird, but the boy dies!" Gingle hissed. "Suffuco!"
Harry felt fear rushing through him; he couldn't breathe. It felt as though energy was being sucked out of him, his knees were growing weak. He felt so light headed.
And then Harry saw it, at the top of the ceiling-the cardinal. His mother would be with him when he died...
Dumbledore was saying something, but Harry couldn't hear, there was a dull drumming noise in his ears. Fawkes had flown to the top of the stairs and was singing a beautiful and mournful song.
Harry felt something well up inside him, he didn't know what. The phoenix's song was coursing through every vein in his body, he felt strong and brave.
The cardinal up in the rafters was twitching-it's beak kept biting it's wing-he couldn't stand the phoenix song. And Harry noticed, it was watching Gingle.
And then Harry had a sudden revelation. This bird wasn't his mother, it never was….
"Dumbledore! The cardinal in the rafters!" Harry said, through Gingle's arms. There was a loud bang and
Harry felt something wet on his arm-Gingle had used a Shearing Charm on his arm; blood was sinking through his robes. Pain coursing through him, Harry fell to the ground, gasping for air.
Dumbledores eyes got wide and he looked up at the cardinal, victory flashing on his face. "Stupefy!" he called, his blue eyes angry and powerful. The cardinal fell to the ground-and so did Gingle.
Fawkes gave a low warble and flew to Harry, laying his beautiful head on Harry's arm. He was crying. Where Harry's wound was, a pearly patch of tears replaced it.
Harry stroked Fawkes's head.
Dumbledore looked furious, but not at Harry. "Are you hurt?"
"No-look," Harry showed Dumbledore the patch of tears. "I just-I don't understand."
"I don't expect you to,' Dumbledore said. He picked up the tiny cardinal and muttered something under his breath. The bird rose into the air, and Fawkes let out an angry warble. But the cardinal was changing-it's wings became long arms, his feet replaced claws. He changed into a long, lean man of around forty.
"Rexby," Dumbledore said again. "Harry, go to the hospital wing."
"But….?"
"I'll explain everything later. Go to Madam Pomfrey."
And Harry, still feeling light-headed, went to the hospital wing, where he collapsed, all of his energy gone.