Through The Eyes Of A Phoenix
Disclaimer: Sadly, the characters do not belong to me but to JK Rowling.
Summary: Day in and day out Fawkes observes two people who dance around each other instead of revealing what's in their hearts. These are his thoughts.
A/N: This is originally a one-shot but depending on what you say in your reviews, I might be encouraged to continue with it. Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Ang, who has been wonderful in helping me with this story.
I am the familiar of probably one of the greatest wizards of all time: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I was handed down to Albus by my previous owner, his grandfather, Achilles Elias Hector Dumbledore. It has been a family tradition for centuries that the oldest Dumbledore son takes me on when the time comes. I have been with Albus since he was the tender age of three and I have remained loyal to him. I will remain with Albus until the fates decide that we are to be parted but I believe we will be together for many more years yet.
Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is known for his intelligence and courage in the wizarding world. The wizarding community is correct for thinking such things but I see a side to him, which no one else sees. I have always known what he tries to hide day in, day out. I know him all to well and it pains me to see him so lonely. I know what makes his blue eyes twinkle and I know what makes him smile. In fact, I believe I know him better than he knows himself at times.
His heart came to life forty years ago when a dark haired witch had stumbled into him in Diagon Alley. She had told him to watch where he was going and that he had better get his glasses corrected. She had then disappeared, leaving him speechless and in love. She turned up in the December of 1956 to take up the position of Transfiguration professor.
The job has become vacant because the current professor had decided to leave and take a wife. Minerva McGonagall is her name, the only woman who had ever rendered the great Albus Dumbledore speechless. She has hair as black as the night and the most amazing emerald green eyes, which seem to be able to probe into anyone. She is a very intelligent witch in her own right and has been blessed with a quick wit. She is not one to take fools gladly and is formidable in the classroom. All these qualities attracted her to him, like a moth around a flame. They became great friends after the initial rocky start and I began to notice an unfamiliar twinkle appear in his eyes whenever she was around.
He began to talk about her every night and I, being a good familiar, listened intently to his words. I made soft cooing noises to assure him that I was listening and I would get a sherbert lemon in return. My master has a love for muggle confectionary, especially for the yellow sweet that tastes of lemon and has some fizzy stuff in the middle. The local sweetshop in Hogsmeade, Honeydukes, keeps them in stock especially for him. Every evening when Minerva pops by for a chat, a game of chess or to discuss some school matters, he tries to get her to try one but she always declines his offer. He tells me that she reminds him of a sherbert lemon but I can't really see it as she isn't yellow and I seriously doubt that she tastes of lemon.
I, also, find myself enjoying Minerva's company and I often fly by to see her once a day. She treats me by giving me pieces of ginger newts. She also tells me that I will have a bit of a tummy, like my master, if I continue to eat them like I do. I look at her distantly and then coo for another piece of biscuit.
In the last thirty-nine years, I thin I have progressed further with Minerva than my supposed intelligent master has ever done. I have watched her sleep peacefully when I have been asked to keep a subtle eye on her when my master has been forced to leave her and his beloved school behind. I have seen tears fall from her beautiful eyes in the middle of the night where she wakes to find herself alone. When she awakes to find me in her quarters, she no longer questions my presence. Instead she accepts it. I comfort her as best I can by softly cooing and bumping my head against her chin. But I am no substitute for what she really wants or needs. Only one man can offer her that and he is too stupid to see it. If only he could see that she loves him the way he loves her.
Their weekly chess games are sometimes unbearable to watch because without knowing it, they flirt with each other. One of them will say something too near their feelings and an uncomfortable silence fills the room and it's only broken when Minerva declares "checkmate."
It is very tiring to watch them do this dance. Sometimes I wish I could talk and then I would be able to make them see what's really in front of them. But, alas, I am merely a phoenix and all I can do is observe. Hopefully with time, they will stop dancing around each other and dance together.
The End.