Chapter 5 The Words of the Phoenix
Hermoine wondered what odd creature Hagrid would bring in this year. He often brought in dangerous creatures that no one else would dream of bringing. Hermoine had actually come to dread this class last year, worrying about Hagrid's Blast Ended Skwerts. She hoped that he would not unleash something truly horrible.
Patrice was following her reluctantly, looking at a loss as they headed into the grounds. She looked worried.
"What is it?" asked Hermoine. Patrice frowned slightly.
"Why are we out here?"
"Because our lesson's outside. It always is when the weather's good." Hermoine gave Patrice a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Besides, it can't be half as bad as Potions, can it?" Patrice managed a smile.
"I guess not."
The two of them arrived at Hagrid's empty shack. Hermoine lead Patrice around back. To her dismay, no one was there.
"Hermoine, over here!" She turned at the voice. Harry and Ron trotted toward them. "Hagrid wanted us to wait for you. What took you so long?"
"Malfoy," replied Hermoine. Patrice nodded.
"He's a pain in the ass, that one," she added, turning a dark look to the school. Hermoine couldn't bring herself to smile. She feared that Malfoy was more then a pain. He could be very dangerous, she was sure of it.
The four of them hurried to class. The Hufflepuffs and the other Gryffindors were gathered around Hagrid's huge form, ooh-ing and aw-ing over something.
"Isn't that the grounds keeper?" hissed Patrice. Alarm passed across her face for a brief moment.
"Yeah. He teaches all the Care of Magical Creatures classes too," replied Hermoine stiffly. Patrice's eyes went wide.
Hagrid grinned.
"Come 'n over!" he called. "Don't yeh worry now." Patrice had gone pale. She took a few tentative steps toward Hagrid and the mass of teens. She let out a gasp of delight.
"A phoenix!" she gasped.
"Fawkes!" exclaimed Harry, seeing the beautiful, burning bird for the first time. The phoenix flew off of Hagrid's hand. He landed on Harry's shoulder. Harry stroked the underbelly of the phoenix.
"Isn't that hot?" asked Seamus Finnigan. Harry smiled.
"Not at all."
"It will burn anyone it doesn't like," warned Patrice, who had once again backed up. Everyone turned to her. Hagrid looked impressed.
"She's got it," he said in an excited voice. " Come 'ere Fawkes." The phoenix seemed reluctant to leave Harry, but he flew over and landed on Hagrid's huge leather armband.
"Yeh can all come an' try and touch 'im, but tell 'im yeh're name first!"
Ron was the first to get close to the phoenix.
"Hello, Fawkes," he said cautiously. "I'm Ron. May I . .. er .. . touch you?" Fawkes did Ron one better. He fluttered up and sat on Ron's head, making a funny sounding call. The call slowly changed into a song the beauty of which Hermoine had never heard. She felt all her worries disappear in a warm rush.
Hermoine did not try to fight her way through the crowd to see the phoenix. It was absolutely gorgeous, and she did want to touch it, but she did not want to over stimulate the poor bird either. She let the others have a go at it.
Neville, Patrice and Hermoine were the last three to approach the stunning bird. Neville looked like he might faint dead away as he approached it.
"Hi Fawkes," he croaked. "I- I'm Neville." He reached out his hand slowly. The phoenix left his perch again, and landed on Neville's head. Neville beamed, at the same time looking as though he may pass out any moment. Hermoine smiled. Neville rarely had a good experience in this, or any other, class except Herbology. She was glad that the phoenix had not burned him.
Patrice was next. She had gone very pale.
"Hello Fawkes," she called to the bird. "I'm Patrice. How do you do?" Hermoine stifled a cry. Patrice burst into flames before her eyes. But Patrice was smiling, not at all bothered by the flames around her. Hermoine blinked, and the vision disappeared. Patrice was pushing her forward.
"Hello Fawkes," Hermoine managed, the image of flames dancing in her mind. "I'm Hermoine." She touched the beautiful phoenix. She ran her fingers over the surprisingly soft whorls of flame.
"Hello Hermoine," said a voice in her head. Hermoine's eyes went wide. "Don't be alarmed, dear girl. Trust in your heart. It will lead the way. Watch your dearest friend the closest, or you may lose him."
Hermoine blinked at the magnificent bird. She put her hands down at her side. Fawkes looked at her with his dark eyes. She felt weak and helpless, yet amazingly powerful at the same time. She could not hear the warbling song that Fawkes had been singing. She heard only his words, again and again. "Watch your dearest friend the closest, or you may lose him."
