Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Elrin Danse is my own creation and the story is my own.
The Song of the Phoenix
Chapter five
The mirror in the bathroom nearly freaked out at the state she was in – her swollen pink eyes staring out of a blotchy face. She had struggled to get out of bed. Snow was falling onto the windows from a darkened sky and whipped up by a strong wind making it was relatively gloomy, so she lit several candles.
"Oh my dear, slap a bit of cream on. We can't have you looking like that."
"I'm not sure it would do the job."
"A good bath would settle you."
Elrin stared at herself leaning against the sink and a moment later she had covered the mirror with a spare towel, and it made a muffled protest. Then she sank into the bath, glad of the deep warmth as if it were caressing her body. Feeling the marks made by the ropes, she soaped them as if by doing so they could be healed, then remembered his hands on her thighs and rubbed them: rubbing them out or rubbing them in, she wasn't sure. She recalled how she had lubricated frighteningly easily at his attentions and felt herself there, and found she was still affected. Flashes of him tormented her: his coldness and scorn: the way he had pointed his wand at her with his black bitter eyes; his thumb close to her mouth – so close she could smell his hands and then the quiet way he pulled down her skirt. Why had he stopped? Why did he not carry on? She had done nothing to stop him. There was nothing she could have done. Yet he stopped.
Then she thought of his face when he tried to read her after she said that she would volunteer to take the Veritaserum. She put in her fingers and came extremely quickly and strongly; resting her head on the bath, water swirling around her. It didn't, however, make her feel much better, in fact, maybe more drained. Her body had relaxed, but the rest of her was tense. Had she given up because he forced her to? He had demoralized her, which perhaps been his intention, but she didn't think that it was at least his main intention. He really wanted to know whatever he thought she was hiding. He appeared convinced that she was some sort of mole trying to get to his precious papers and yet supposed her to be incompetent. The mix of the two didn't seem very likely unless he thought her to be acting stupid. She shook her head at the idea of being taken for some sort of a spy. Perhaps she should see it as a compliment. He seemed to be totally vexed by the fact that he couldn't read her. She wondered why not, if he was so good at it. There was nothing about her that was special: she was just an ordinary person in an extraordinary situation. She sighed, and the mirror spoke through the towel. "There, there," which made her laugh.
She had a few biscuits and some coffee in the empty staff room, and gloomily sat there, the snow sticking against the high latticed windows, listening to the sound of the wind: it was quite peaceful. The silence inside, punctuated only occasionally by distant sounds, made her want to drift into a space she sometimes inhabited at home. A secret, glowing place of quiet: not alone, but as if she was with more than just herself, having a companionable state with the objects around her: the mountainous piles of parchments and objects, the battered chairs and the wind outside and the great looming building. Eventually someone came in to break it, and it was Lupin, sinking gratefully into a chair beside hers. Although he was obviously tired, he appeared to be in good spirits.
"Remus"
"Elrin"
They shook hands, laughing at their brevity.
"I'm told you are researching Phoenix," he said, sounding interested. "Not a particularly easy thing to do I would have thought."
"No, it's not: there's nothing much in the library that I can find." He obviously had not been told very much, and she was not going to enlighten him, sympathetic though he seemed to be.
"And you are working – with Severus – on this? He was either benefiting from experience or he noticed the expression in her eyes, or was it perhaps even werewolf insight?
"Don't let him get to you. He's a good, sound man, if not what most people would call a gentle one."
A kind face, who would not half torture someone – as long as he took the potion of course – Severus' Potion. A good, sound, man.
It made her head spin and absently rubbed her arms where the ropes had been, and since she didn't respond, he turned to her, concerned.
"Has he been vindictive to you? I heard about the Sorting."
With alarm, she could feel the tears just dying to creep out. She couldn't have it. There was no way that she really could tell anyone, however nice. It felt important for her that it was dealt with by herself. If she became totally out of her depth, she would go and speak to Dumbledore. There was no way that she was going to be a martyr.
"It's fine. It's not a problem. I – have to go now, and almost jumped out of the chair and rushed out of the door, leaving a disturbed Remus behind."
In the library, she found three older students discussing something fervently in a corner where she had been sitting previously. She took no notice; found her books, and settled down to continue to read nearby. The books were not wildly helpful. They kept saying the same things over and over. Phoenix was an unknown language, it was poetic, it was deeply meaningful, had healing powers, blah, blah, blah. She snuck a look at the students, and gradually realized that she knew who they were. The dark haired boy, now a Prefect, must be Harry. She wouldn't have recognised him except for the scar, still partially hidden behind a more tousled look, and tall and quite good looking. Next to him sat Hermoine, strongly attractive and very upright, now a young woman, a very serious expression on her face: Head Girl by the look of her badge. Facing them was Ron. He was the easiest to spot because of his hair and not as tall as Harry, and poor lamb, not as attractive but who had more character in his face. She watched them for a little, gesticulating and arguing about something. Then she noticed them watching her watching them, and felt uncomfortable. Did they know she was a Slytherin? If they did, short shrift for her. Hoping that they didn't think she had overheard, she gave a light smile and a little wave and returned to her books. She didn't want to see how they reacted. One violent dismissal from one person was quite enough for one week.
At supper, she hardly dared to look at him. She avoided his end of the table, so neither knew nor cared if she was 'under surveillance'
Why did she feel so guilty about what he did to her? Just because there was something he couldn't fathom. Hadn't he met a woman before?
Xiomara seemed to sense her sadness, and spoke more quietly and soberly, telling her about a missed order for broomsticks. Gradually she began to pick up her spirits, eating a little of the delicious pork chops and mashed potatoes in front of her. As Lupin was late and gently patted a hand on her shoulder as he passed, Xiomara raised her eyebrows at her confidentially. "Go for it girl."
"Baby werewolves?" Elrin whispered. They giggled, earning a withering glance from Minerva, and so ended up both trying to suffocate their laughter in accordance with their rank for they could be seen by every student in the hall. It was a tonic. Such kindness and generosity on the one side and a raving lunatic, mad at her on the other.
Was it always going to be like this, this duality of dark and light?If ever she was going to pray, to Merlin in this world, or whoever, it would be to understand and overcome it, not leave her weak and helpless like this.
At a few minutes before eight, she knocked and waited at the Severus' door. There was no sound for a minute, and wondered if he had forgotten. She couldn't do it. She must be crazy to face another scene like last night. Maybe she would just go now, and was about to slip away when she heard the dreaded snap of his voice.
"Come."
He was arranging scrolls on his knee at the fire, hair flopping, intent at his task. If there was anywhere else that she could have been at that moment, she wanted to be there now. Was she just to stand there like a student before him?
"Sit down. Here," he commanded, indicating the chair opposite him. She tried to calculate his mood, but could not read it. The fire was welcome and she shivered faintly as she faced him, his face carved by the warm light. Being close to him again, fresh, real, solid, not a monster of the dark, brought up her usual conflicting emotions, as if she were in front of a powerful force of nature. Not something to be taken easily or lightly, and which might easily crush her if she was unwitting. She needed to be awake.
"This collection of parchments – his hand touching them gently as they rested on his lap - were handed down to me by my family. They have been with us for many generations and now I am their custodian." His eyes were intent and his voice was a silky intimidation.
"They are physically vulnerable. I would have liked to have made copies, but I am unwilling to do that in case I mistranslate." He selected out what looked like a frail and blotched fragment and cradled it in his hands, as Hagrid would have done with his precious dragon eggs and with not dissimilar look on his face. Elrin, despite her misgivings, was softened by this obvious devotion to something precious. It was something she would never have suspected.
His love for potion making yes, but this?
"I presume that this is written in Phoenix. Neither of you has told me."
He stared at her ready to be exasperated, but then recollected that she could not possibly know.
"Archaic Phoenix. Thousands of years old. Nothing like them in existence and a treasure beyond price."
She drew in her breath sharply. There must be a lot riding on her abilities that even she was not convinced of. Before she could comment however, he continued, his teeth gritted. "It is imperative that you fully understand that these contents must not be disclosed to anyone," a slow deep menace creeping into his voice as he bent forward towards her, his teeth gritted. "Anyone. In this state or in any other state. It does not exist. There are only three people in this world who know of its existence including you. Am I making myself perfectly clear? These conditions will be obeyed or I will….what?
"Kill me?"
"Correct. Do not doubt it." He enunciated coldly and deliberately.
She did not doubt it.
"What about Dumbledore?"
"Dumbledore, yes. Of course, he is the third person.
"I'd like to ask – if you don't know what's in them, except for the fact that it is written in Phoenix, how do you know that the contents are important?"
"Legend has it that the secrets of the Universe are locked up in it, and that means power and that means the downfall of Voldemort. Legend - and my own desire. This manuscript has been haunting me since childhood. My family have been guarding it for generations. Many people have died for it, including my immediate family."
No wonder he had tested her, if that was what it was. No wonder he was half crazy.
Remembering Fawkes, she said with some hesitation "Perhaps it is just philosophy."
"You think so little of philosophy?" he leered, leaning back in the chair.
"No, but I don't think of it as practical. It doesn't fight wars."
"My family legend also has it that there are potions hidden in the text: powerful potions."
"Ah."
"Another condition is that none of it leaves this room and continues to remain in my presence. Do I take it that you abide by these conditions?" It was if he had frozen himself still, waiting. The flames cracked loudly, and she heard a little pop of something in a cauldron or a jar somewhere.
Him waiting for her?"I do. At least…"
He glared at her, still frozen.
"I will abide by them and I will do the best I can."
"I would allow you to do nothing else, Madam," he retorted.
"If my life is in your hands, you might call me by my given name. Perhaps you can remember what it is." she said, a note of sarcasm slipping out.. He struggled for a second and breathed in and then said, "Elrin." A vision of him holding her life in his hands like he held the parchment tore through her body for a second and was gone, and the surprise was that it was a comforting one And then he handed her the single parchment, placing it reluctantly in her two hands. It was all squiggly shapes and rows and rows of beautiful calligraphy, faded and burnt in places. She couldn't read a word of it.
Oh shit.
"I need to show this to Fawkes, she said "immediately."
"What!" He said jumping up from his chair. "The insufferableness of women! Conditions mapped out and agreed and already you want to break two of the most imperative ones," he shouted.
"Come on Severus, consent," she said, standing.
"Don't Severus me!" he roared.
She couldn't tell him she couldn't read it. She just could not. Her whole life would have dropped away: even though she had never heard of Phoenix language before last week. She needed to talk to the bird. Show him the parchment: it seemed important. Her whole being urged her to do so. Remaining calm she said. "Surely you cannot exclude Fawkes from your conditions. Is he not included in with Dumbledore? It is inconceivable to leave him out of the equation."
He growled, circling the floor.
Recovering himself.
"No, it is not unreasonable. If he can speak that is, in anything comprehensible."
"She waited for him, sick to her stomach, but yearning for him to agree.
"Then I can go?"
"No! No papers leave here," he fumed. Did you or did you not hear me earlier? Does nothing enter your brain and remain there?"
She felt like a first year.
"The Headmaster's Room is surely the safest anywhere?" she countered.
"For Merlin's sake!" He took a step towards her. "You push me too far. If this is how you are going to behave, you had better let me have that fragment back. Now!"
She held onto it, not tightly, in case he pulled it from her: it would probably crumble into ash if it became torn.
"What does it say?" he demanded.
"I can't tell you yet. Let me go!" she pleaded.
"Why?"
"I want to speak to him. I need him to help me."
He said nothing, so she tried another tack, and spoke very quietly "It's so beautiful." and she caressed the parchment over its inked surface with her long pale hands. He was watching her, eyes intent on what she was doing. An odd look on his face.
After a few seconds he said, "He could come here."
She thought about it, it was not ideal, but that might be a solution. She opened her mouth to agree but before she could do so he had quickly taken her by the arm and reached for the Floo Powder on the mantelpiece.
"Give me that parchment"– and held it tenderly against his jacket with the flat of his hand and said "Headmaster's study"
The Headmaster himself was absent, luckily, so he did not see the invasion of two of his staff. Elrin felt uncomfortable being there.
"I have his permission, do not concern yourself." He said wryly, observing her frown.
She made her way over to the sleeping bird while Severus, sighing loudly, threw himself on a chair behind her.
Damn. What a time to be sleeping. How did one wake up a several hundred-year-old bird? Poke him in the ribs?
"Fawkes." She said quietly.
"He's not going to hear you with that tone of voice. Speak up."
"Just let me do it my way, please."
There was a noisy snort.
"Fawkes," she said louder. No reaction.
"He's wasn't dead was he?"
She turned to the figure behind. "Am I speaking English?"
He raised one eyebrow, high.
So, she could only speak it while they were talking together?It shouldn't make any difference; surely he would hear her in any language
She put a hand out to stroke the velvet feathers, and immediately he shifted under her hand and softly woke.
"Good evening Elrin," he said, yawning and stretching his wings. They expanded beside her for what seemed like miles, the great red plumage shimmering in the light. She was never so glad to see someone awaken. She turned to Severus to see him observing: then remembered he had the parchment, and retrieved it from his slightly unwilling hands.
"Unless Fawkes intends to eat it, it is safe with me," she almost whispered. Then she was sure she glimpsed an infinitesimal flash of panic in his eyes. If she hadn't been so close, she would never have seen it. She had a terrible desire to kiss him on the cheek. Fortunately she had more sense.
"I realize that it is impossible for you, but please trust me," she said softly.
"About as much as I trust a python," he muttered, arms crossed.
Was that a complement coming from a Slytherin? Mmm, Maybe not.
Fawkes now revived, and was looking at the woman returning to him.
"How are you?"
Surprised, she said that she was well.
"I meant really,"
"Excuse me," she said and turned to the waiting figure. "Am I speaking English?"
A slight shake of his head reassured her.
Turning back to Fawkes, she said "He's – he's – not easy."
"No. Did you want easy?"
"I wasn't aware of having wanted anything in particular. Fawkes, I need to ask you about these manuscripts. They're in archaic Phoenix."
"Are they? Interesting." And prodded a few feathers about, though there was nothing out of line.
She took a deep breath. "Would you help me with them?"
"In what way?"
"To translate them into English for me."
"I don't know any English."
"But I do. If you could tell me what it says, I can write it down. If you wouldn't mind. I can't read a word of it."
"Oh yes you can."
"I assure you I cannot."
"Let me see this."
She held it in front of his eyes, or rather one large eye since he couldn't read binocularly.
"Hum. Where has this come from? This is a mighty potent piece of work."
"It belongs to Severus. It has been handed down within his family for generations."
"I apologise, but I cannot translate it for you."
"A fierce kind of panic gripped her."
"What is it that he is saying?" came the voice behind her, and she waved a hand at him for silence without looking.
Double eyebrows were raised, but she did not see them.
She had to do something.
"Fawkes, I need to do this. I'm not sure why. Not just for him."
"Are you sure, my dear Elrin?"
"I – don't know. He has been - pretty difficult."
An understatement of the century.
"It is for yourself?"
"I really don't know. It is just a kind of inner urging. I feel I must."
"That will do. I can help you to translate though."
She stood more upright, surprised.
"How?"
"There is a way, but it is not easy. I will help you with a beginning, then you must continue by yourself."
Relief flooded into her and she turned to smile at Severus. He was unmoved.
"Alright, what do I do?" she asked the bird.
"You meditate."
"What! I don't know how! All that crossed legged stuff, and fingers arranged so."
"Quite. But this is Phoenix style. I will start you off."
"But – if it comes through my own mind, it could be purely subjective. I could be wrong."
"Yes, you could be. That is why you need to be vigilant and careful and slow. And – most of all – this is a difficult one – honest."
"I – am fairly honest, most people would say."
"To yourself."
"Oh."
"Do you believe you are?"
"I – err – don't – in what way?"
"You know very well what way."
"To – she nearly twitched her head towards Severus before she remembered he could understand her body language easier than what she said. "About – Severus?"
"I'm saying nothing. This is your honesty, not mine."
"What has this got to do with meditation?"
"Everything. If you cannot be honest, you will make mistakes. What comes through you, will come through translated, but you need to be clear, just like a clear substance in a crystal bottle."
It made her start a little.
Did he know – about it? Or was it a coincidence? Surely it must be the latter.
She noticed for the first time that the room was over-warm, and decided to remove her outer robes, putting them on a nearby table. Brushing off the dust of the day from her skirt and bodice, thrust her fingers through her thick hair, she returned for action.
"Right. Do you really think you help me with this?"
"I warn you now this will be harder on your own. You can come to me for general advice on meditation, but the manuscripts will be in both your hands."
"Then why could we not do it like this through the whole manuscript?"
"Because this is your task. And his. Not mine."
"I won't know if it is right though, on my own."
"You won't now. However, as things begin to slot into place, you will know if you are on the right track."
"If I make one slip, he will blast me into eternity."
Fawkes chuckled, if a Phoenix could be said to chuckle.
"I don't think so. Do you see the way he looks at you? And he has really been waiting patiently – for him."
Looks at her?Feeling the heat rising on her face and neck she turned her head away, so that he might not see.
"He looks at me as if I were a Death Eater's moll or something. I appear to make him mad. He says it is because he can't read me."
"Or perhaps it is because he really can, but he too has problems of honesty."
The rustle of robes as someone crossed their legs for the third time made her concentrate on the matter in hand.
"Please, can you help me now with this?" as she held up the fragment.
"Very well, sit down. Make yourself comfortable."
She drew up a chair to sit beside him and detecting Severus' growing impatience, said to him "You have waited a very long time. Would a part of an hour be too much to wait?" So he sighed heavily and continued his vigilance, like some ancient knight guarding a sacred treasure, arms folded.
"Now, close your eyes and follow me. Never mind how it sounds – just copy it. Alright? Don't be alarmed. I am keying you in first and then the text will come."
What am I doing? I can't do this.
She could feel her pulse beating through her body, the hardness of the chair that she had chosen, and the smell from the Birchwood in the fire.
"Just relax, you are in a safe, comfortable place" the bird intoned, his voice changing as he said it, low and strong. Then she heard the strangest sound. It began deep within the Phoenix, but it grew louder and stronger out of his beak echoing in her head, reverberating throughout her body and felt impelled to open her mouth to voice the sound as best she could. It was a sound that vibrated first through the room, and then extended itself, passing through the walls, through the school, through the mountains and through the moors, through the earth below and the sky above. It was a madness and a beauty and a power. Something beyond but was there within her as well as if they were the same. Just as she could take no more, it began to fade and gradually slowed until she could hear Fawkes talking to her quietly.
"You have the parchment in your hand – touch it gently."
And slowly, slowly, words began to drop into her mind. She tried to shape them.
"No, no," he said almost inaudibly. "The first one was right. Now the second. Gently. Wait. Wait." He continued to give instructions until she opened her eyes and the room came into her awareness, almost like it had done on her first day, fresh and tangible.
She could not speak at first. She sat gazing at the bird that in turn was watching her carefully. The silence in the room was almost overwhelming.
"That was - astounding." she managed to get out after a little time.
She couldn't say, what was that? Because she already knew and had always known, yet she could not remember having experienced it - ever.
"Make sure you take a drink of water as soon as you can. It may help the feelings of slight disorientation that you are having."
"How can I do this on my own?"
"Now you have been keyed in, you need just relax silently and wait for the words to drop into your head."
"You are very - kind."
"You are welcome as always. And give my regards to our angry friend."
"Are you joking?"
"No. I am not. I have seen many things, and he particularly has my high regard."
Her eyes flicked over to the dark figure involuntarily, and then he knew they were talking about him and his eyes narrowed.
"I have," he said standing, "waited long enough." And moved over to the pair of them.
"Fawkes has given me a start on this first fragment so that we can begin decoding it the rest of the manuscript" she said to him, still slightly light-headed.
"It's a very exceptional way to read – a compelling duet," he observed.
"It's – the Phoenix way. He has been very generous, and he gives – his regards to you. He said that he holds you in high regard."
She thought there would be a snort at this, but to her surprise, he looked at the bird.
"There have been many occasions when I have been very grateful to Fawkes. I would not otherwise be standing here alive." and nodded solemnly to him.
It was the first time she had heard him speak with a genuine tone in his voice and it was as if her heart was drawn to it like a thirsty creature to water.
Perhaps sensing her attention and before she could absorb this, he moved his head swiftly back to her.
"Well, do I have to prize it out of you? I'm waiting," his head on one side.
"Oh, yes. Lets see. I need to write it down fairly soon, otherwise I'll forget it. He said this work would take time. What I have is only because he has started me off."
His eyes were beginning to glint and he moved a step further towards her.
"I'm sorry, I'm still a little out of it."
"Out of it?" He asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Ok.ok. Just give me a second." She composed herself with her eyes closed and began to recite slowly, her voice still holding the magic of the Phoenix.
"I am the Snake that giveth Knowledge & Delight and Bright Glory, stirring the hearts of men with drunkenness,
And while tending the creation of the world, reveal that the pain of division is as nothing, and the joy of dissolution all.
Be thou my secret centre, my heart & my tongue! O splendrous serpent! They are as upon the earth; I am Heaven."
When she opened her eyes, he was staring into space, looking totally stunned.
Poetry at end - misquotations from : Liber AL vel Legis.