Hey there. Do any of you know how bad it is when you read someone story and all of a sudden, you think, wow, this is a brilliant idea, and you think that if you tweak it here and there a bit, you could write a story using one idea. Well, I got that when reading Crab Apple Fairy's "Rising From The Ashes", which I suggest you all read, brilliant story that. So, anyway, I started writing, just for the sake of it, to help me get over my writer's block on my other stories, then I realized, if I asked Crab Apple Fairy's permission, I might be able to post my story. And guess what? The brilliant, wonderful Crab Apple Fairy gave me permission.

So, here it is, my story using Crab Apple Fairy's, I guess we'll call it idea; The Soul Of A Phoenix.

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, or his friends, and the central idea belongs to the brilliant Crab Apple Fairy.

The Soul Of A Phoenix

Prologue Part One-

His eyes opened out of pure reflex, revealing the milky whiteness of them. His entire body throbbed with a dull pain that would flare to life at the simplest movement. He hissed softly at the sharp awakening of pain across his eyes. The pain resulted in his eyes flashing with their old emerald fire, before being blanketed with the dull milky white of blindness. That's right, he was blind, and pretty close to being deaf too. All due to a potion that he poured into his eyes. The potion resulted in his blindness, and affected his hearing. The effect on his hearing was a side-effect of the potion. The potion was meant to make him blind, was meant to render his eyes their now milky white colour. The reason for this potion?

To reveal his pain.

It wasn't used to blind him, no, it was used so his tormentors could see his pain in the flash of emerald. It seems that he had gotten too good at concealing the pain he felt, and that seemed to annoy his captor. He wanted to see his pain, so, he used a potion that caused blindness in the victim so that when the victim felt pain, their eyes would flash their true colour, indicating their pain. It was a pain-indicator.

There was a sudden change in the vibrations in the air and he knew that someone had entered his cage. He had rapidly learnt how to use his other senses, requiring them for survival. Since he had been blind since his second week here in hell, he figured he had had about three, four weeks to adapt. A scent wafted over to him, tantalising his senses. He mentally frowned.

Who was it?

It wasn't Malfoy, he smelt of expensive cologne, but he always had an aroma of fear, greed and pleasure hidden under the folds of his perfume.

It wasn't Pettigrew, he simply smelt of fear and rodents.

It wasn't Macnair, he smelt of blood, animal blood at that.

And it wasn't him, he smelt of evil, pain, death and there was a slight reptilian… flavour to his scent.

He shuddered inwardly. It was scary how animalistic he was becoming, how he could smell the difference between a reptile and a rodent, between fear and pleasure, between human death and animal blood.

The scent teased him once more, as the owner of it moved closer. It was a combined scent, unlike any other he had smelt. There was fear, yes, but not of him. It seemed like it was for him. There was no pleasure, but there was something there that he hadn't smelt before, something calming. He almost raised an eyebrow when he identified the scent. It was concern, concern for him. Then there was the scent that covered all this, that deftly hid the fear and the concern from those who did not know how to separate the scents. The person before him smelt of fire, of… fumes? It reminded him of the Hogwarts dungeons, where they did Potions…. Potions?

'That was it!' He thought to himself. 'It was Snape!'

There was a sharp vibration in the air, revealing that Snape had made a sharp movement. There was the tingling feeling of magic, and instead of the dark, black scent that he associated with pain, with the Cruciatus curse, with daggers and whips, there was a soothing, healing scent that reminded him of poppies.

His body became numb to the dull throb of pain, and he realised that Snape had cast a numbing curse on him. For a moment he fought the panic deep within him. Sure, this was Snape and the man hated him with an intense passion, but he was Dumbledore's spy, he wouldn't do as the other Death Eaters had done, he wouldn't play their malicious, cruel game of numbing his body, casting multiple pain curses, breaking his bones and slicing his skin, his muscles, before removing the numbing spell and leaving him to deal with the intense pain afterwards.

There was a sudden vibration that he could barely feel, then a scent that he recognised. It was him. They had been discovered and now Snape was going to pay the ultimate price. He could taste it on the air, death, simple and straightforward. He wanted to apologise to the man for putting him in such danger, for being the reason of his death, but he had long lost the use of his voice.

Suddenly, there was a smell of speed, of haste, and despite the spell, he could feel the distant tugging at his navel, the familiar effects of a portkey.

Before they both disappeared from the dark castle, he caught the scent of death, of souls being torn from their bodies, but the scent of life beside him reassured him that Snape was safe and alive.

The scent of speed and haste disappeared, and they appeared at their destination, the landing jolting his already bruised and bloody body.

He could smell fresh air, the grass, the wind, the forest just behind them, the water from the lake and the numerous creatures around the place. Suddenly, his senses were overwhelmed with the scent of magic, complete and utter magic, thousands of years old.

There was the smell of another spell, the levitation one. He recognised this one because when he was tortured to the point of not being able to stand, the Death Eaters didn't want to get their hands dirty with his blood, so they merely floated him back to his cage and ended the spell abruptly, with him still floating metres above the ground.

Within that instant, he realised that he was safe, that he wasn't going to die in that cage, deep under the ground. He was going to die here, the one place in the world where he was home.

He smiled, not caring about the pain he was sure to feel later. He had cheated him. No, Lord Voldemort was not going to have the pleasure of seeing him die before his eyes.

His smile grew as he realised that he had won.

Yes, Harry Potter had defied Voldemort once more.

A/N- Just thought I'd mention this. While An Innocent Gift is my main priority, I will work on this as much as possible, while trying not to fail year twelve. Winks Ah, it's all good. Please review.