A/N: Reviewers are truly kings and queens on earth.
Alexis on - Thanks very much:p to you too, lol!
AnnaK82 - Thanks for the review… and, um, so am I, bearing in mind that I have only a vague plan.
Septimus Malfoy was a point of recognition in a sea of the unknown. Albus glanced at him first before turning his eyes on the other children.
A large, rather heavily-built boy dominated the small space, dark hair plastered to his head and the cane looking like a twig in his large hand. Next to him sat a girl with hard green eyes and long brown hair, who was primly holding her robes off the grimy floor. On the boy's other side was another large boy with black, bristly short hair who seemed slightly overweight. On the opposite side of the carriage, where Septimus was sitting, was another slim girl whose sandy locks were done up in a complicated hairstyle and who wore so much jewellery even her tender age as to appear overdone. Next to Septimus was a small, sickly-looking boy who had greasy black hair and a rather prominent nose. All eyes were fixed on Albus.
"Dumbledore," said Septimus calmly, patting a space next to him. Albus wondered why Septimus had addressed him with his last name but stumbled over and sat next to him as the carriage began to move.
"This is Albus Dumbledore, my second cousin," Septimus said lazily to the others, twirling his cane idly. Albus was somewhat relieved to see that they, too, seemed slightly in awe of how grown up Septimus seemed. Malfoy was then gesturing at the large boy with the dark hair. "This is Magnus Bulstrode-"
Magnus smiled, or rather, leered at Albus. "Hello."
The girl with long brown hair broke in before Septimus could say anything. "I'm Priscilla Nott." She held out a hand, palm down, to Albus.
Albus stared at it, mystified. What was he meant to do?
Priscilla pouted. "Well, kiss it then! Manners!"
Albus blinked and politely kissed the back of her hand, even more nervous that he was before. Only adults did this sort of thing! Was he expected to be this sophisticated all the time?
Septimus smiled. "And this is Fitzwilliam Crabbe," he said, gesturing at the fat boy, who blinked dimly and gave Albus a look that showed that he didn't have a clue what was happening. Septimus then nodded at the golden-haired girl. "This is Juliet Avery-"
Juliet held out her hand for Albus to kiss it and giggled when he did. "Dumbledore! Did you see the headmaster?"
"Yes," said Albus and he was going to say that he didn't think he looked very nice when Septimus interrupted.
"I did! I shook his hand after the speech, too. He's a friend of my father." He drew himself up and the others looked impressed.
"I say, didn't he look awfully grand!" exclaimed Juliet. "I hope he's still there when we go!"
"Of course he'll still be there," said Priscilla importantly. "I was going to go to Durmstrang but my father thinks Hogwarts is the best since that man-"
"-Professor Lestrange-" said Septimus helpfully.
"-Became headmaster."
"I jolly well hope I'm in Slytherin," announced Septimus. "The other houses sound rotten."
"'Slytherin?'" repeated Magnus questioningly.
"Father told me there are four houses - and Slytherin's one of them. Apparently it's the only one without any horrid mudbloods." Septimus sat up slightly. "Have you all done magic yet? I have. I made my dinner vanish last year."
"Ooh," said Priscilla excitedly. "I have! Only a month ago but it was still brilliant! I set one of the house-elves on fire and I was laughing my head off!"
Albus thought of Moopy and didn't think that sounded very pleasant but before he even considered saying anything, Fitzwilliam Crabbe grunted and made to speak for the first time. Albus had been wondering whether he could talk.
"Yes. Last year - made a cake fly."
Juliet sniggered. "Well, about three months ago - on my birthday - some stupid house-elf put only five candles on my cake. I was so angry with it - I did magic and threw it out the window!"
The other children dissolved into fits of glee. Albus didn't. He sat stiffly, feeling out of place and not getting the joke at all. He thought house-elves were funny and didn't like the idea of one being thrown out the window. The only other person not laughing was the dark boy next to Septimus who hadn't been introduced yet - he seemed paralysed with nervousness.
Septimus suddenly nudged the boy, making him jump. "What about you, Snape?" He seemed to realise that he hadn't told Albus his name. "Oh - this is Sileas Snape, by the way. Well - have you done magic? You're not a stupid Squib, are you?"
Sileas shook his head violently. "No - when I was six - I fell out of a tree and sort of floated down," he said quietly. Septimus didn't look very impressed.
Meanwhile, something cold seemed to have descended into Albus's stomach. The realisation that everybody present had done magic except him made him want to vomit. He knew Mother and Father had been watching him for some signs of magic for some time now but it hadn't seemed very urgent until now. What if he was a Squib? What if that was why Father didn't like him - because he was a Squib and would never be able to do magic? What if…
"Dumbledore - what about you?" asked Septimus. Everyone turned and looked at him.
Albus wanted very much to fade away and become invisible. "Y-Yes-" he lied, desperate not to be called a 'stupid Squib.'
"What?" demanded Juliet interestedly.
"Er - I - I did the same as Sileas-" said Albus weakly. He felt sick: he knew lying was wrong and, already, guilt was rising up within him like a fire.
"Oh…" said Septimus disappointedly, as if he thought any cousin of his should be a lot more capable than that. The others didn't look too impressed either.
Albus felt horrified. Not only had he lied and was afraid that he was indeed a Squib but these new children didn't seem to like him. In his desperation, a wonderful idea occurred to him. He could tell the truth!
"And I made a phoenix come to me," he said loudly.
The effect was as desired. Septimus Malfoy's head snapped up and he stared at Albus in awed disbelief. Juliet Avery let out a cry of excitement, Magnus Bulstrode's eyes widened and Priscilla Nott's mouth dropped open. Fitzwilliam Crabbe simply goggled at Albus and Sileas Snape regarded him with something close to fear.
"Really?" gasped Juliet.
"Yes," said Albus proudly. He fiddled with his cane in what he thought was a very adult way and sat up straight. "He only likes me," he added, to see Septimus's eyes go round in amazement.
"You're lying," Septimus accused him.
With the utmost confidence, Albus shook his head. "He comes when I call."
"Very well," challenged Juliet. "Call him, then!"
Albus was taken aback at this but not really worried. Fawkes did indeed come when he called. He made a beckoning gesture in the air mainly for the benefit of his audience and called out Fawkes's name in his head.
"Fawkes!" he called aloud as well.
Fawkes utterly failed to appear.
"Fawkes!" Albus called again, worriedly.
Again, the phoenix was conspicuously absent.
Albus stared at the empty air, dismayed. Why wasn't Fawkes coming? Had he really flown away, like Thom had always said he would. Was it because he was really a Squib?
Septimus sniffed and cast Albus a contemptuous look. "See. He was lying," he told the others, who all laughed or looked pointedly away from Albus.
Albus's heart seemed to sink into his shoes. He leant back into the shadows and gazed out of the window, watching the drizzle-swept streets go by. A very nasty thought, even nastier than anything he'd thought before, struck him. What if Fawkes couldn't come? What if the phoenix was injured somehow and Albus had no way of helping him?
The little boy bit his lip and was silent for the rest of the journey. When the carriage finally stopped, Septimus pushed him on his way out so that Albus nearly fell down into a muddy puddle.
Mother found him and grabbed him by the arm and steered him, with the rest of the crowd, into a building that Albus could only assume was the Illusionartum. Inside, it was dim and dark, making it especially hard for Albus to see. Twice he blundered into people, to receive exasperated looks from Father, before being forced into one of the many padded seats in front of a large stage. To his horror, he was made to sit next to Septimus, who pointedly ignored him and turned to speak to Magnus. Even when the show had started, he couldn't quite forget Fawkes and the trouble he could be in.
Normally, Albus would have been held spellbound by the show. Two extravagantly dressed wizards went on stage and began casting complicated illusions. It was remarkably realistic and beautiful and timed to stirring orchestral music. The splendid illusions depicted everything from forest scenes to dragons in telling the story of Merlin. Albus was indeed fascinated as soon as he realised whom it was about but Fawkes was always in the back of his mind as the audience was half-lit with radiant colours and the orchestral music made the chairs shake.
Albus then had to return to the carriage with the other children and endured another journey in which Septimus made snide comments about liars and the other children ignored him and talked about things he didn't understand. The conversation eventually moved around to mudbloods. Septimus told the story Albus had heard from his father, about Muggles trying to kill wizards and the others nodded gravely.
"I wouldn't go near a mudblood for anything," declared Septimus, who had now been demoted simply to 'Malfoy' in Albus's mind.
"They're filthy," hissed Juliet in agreement. "They probably can't even do magic right."
"There's a really awful one near where I live," said Malfoy, face wrinkled in apparent disgust. "His name's Lupin and he's a nasty little-"
The memory of a small boy called Samuel was suddenly called to the forefront of Albus's mind. Distant, poignantly painful images of himself and Samuel playing in the park and then of Father banning him from ever seeing Samuel again played inside his head. Albus felt a hot surge of anger. Father was wrong about Samuel. Perhaps a lot of mudbloods were bad but Samuel wasn't. Father was wrong because he'd made a mistake; Malfoy was just wrong.
"No, he's not," interrupted Albus, disliking Malfoy more and more every minute.
Malfoy blinked, as if he couldn't believe that Albus had dared to interrupt him. "Not what?"
"Not nasty."
Malfoy's eyes widened again. Juliet and Priscilla were looking at Albus in outrage. Magnus and Fitzwilliam frowned at him and even Sileas, who hadn't said a word since his explanation about how he'd done magic, seemed shocked. Albus found himself not caring very much.
"You like mudbloods?" gasped Malfoy.
"How could you?" demanded Priscilla angrily.
"No!" blurted Albus. "I don't like mudbloods! But Samuel's not bad!"
"All mudbloods are bad, you stupid little house-elf!" Malfoy argued, obviously appalled that anyone could contradict him. "You're a blood traitor!"
"No I'm not!" shouted Albus, sick with worry about Fawkes and thoroughly fed up of Malfoy. "But Lupin isn't-"
"How could you like a mudblood?" asked Juliet in astonishment. "They're filth!"
"Samuel's not filth!" roared Albus.
"Yes he is!" screamed Malfoy back.
Luckily, the carriage ground to a halt and Albus leapt out, burning with hatred for Malfoy. Unfortunately, the day was not over. Everyone crowded back into the hall where the speeches had taken place to find it full of tables set with cutlery and food. Albus found himself sitting opposite Sileas, who said nothing but watched Albus warily over the top of the salad between them. Albus ignored him and rammed down his food, not feeling hungry at all.
Mother and Father ate slowly and Albus was forced to wait until they had eaten up all their roast chicken and drunken all their wine before the moment to leave finally arrived. Ulfin Dumbledore shook hands with Mr Malfoy and Maria exchanged pleasantries with Persephone Malfoy. Septimus glared at Albus and he turned his back on him. When his parents went to the nearest fireplace to Floo home, Albus followed.
"Albus!" exclaimed Maria, shocked at her usually courteous son's impoliteness. "Say goodbye to your cousin!"
Albus whipped around and met Malfoy's eyes. "Goodbye," he said firmly, in the way that meant he never wanted to say hello to Malfoy ever again.
Malfoy said the same word in exactly the same tone before Albus leaped into the fireplace and went thankfully home. Once there, the problem of Fawkes came back to him. He ran up to his bedroom without waiting for Moopy to hang his travelling cloak up, hoping to see Fawkes sat on the windowsill, but no such welcome sight met his eyes.
Despairingly, Albus sat down his bed and gazed out of the window, wanting to see a golden blur in the blue sky but again having his wish denied. As he heard his parents greeting Aberforth and taking him from Nurse downstairs, the terrifying thought of Fawkes being dead came to him and he looked down, biting his lip again and close to tears.
He sat there for a while, struggling against tears, before a familiar voice met his ears. He looked up.
"Albus," said Fawkes sternly, sat on the windowsill as though he'd always been there.
Albus let out a cry of delight and jumped off his bed to pull Fawkes into his arms. To his surprise, Fawkes let out a harsh squawk and pecked at his arm painfully. He let go at once and Fawkes settled down on the windowsill once more. The phoenix was clearly not pleased with him.
"Albus," said Fawkes coldly. "I don't like liars."
Albus opened his mouth in alarm but Fawkes continued talking, looking away from the boy as he did. "I especially don't like boastful little brats who say that they 'called a phoenix to them.' I didn't come because you asked. I came because I wanted to."
Albus made a small noise, about to say something, but the phoenix cut across him, glaring at him with fierce golden eyes.
"What do you think I am, Albus?" he asked softly. "I'm not some special pet of yours that you can use to show off with! Do you think that I would have Bonded with you if I'd known you were a boastful, vain little liar who would use me as a way of impressing other little brats? Do you?"
Fawkes saw the boy pale and his eyes go round but looked away again and went on.
"If you keep on being like that, then I'm afraid I will have to fly away."
Fawkes gazed at the ceiling, listening for a reaction. There was a silence. Fawkes looked down, to see an auburn head bowed, a limp body in a slouched sitting posture on the bed and a pair of clasped hands. The phoenix wondered if the boy was sulking. Then he saw blood running down one of the boy's arms and felt guilty - he hadn't meant to peck Albus that hard.
"I'm sorry," said a low voice suddenly. "I… Please don't fly away."
Fawkes couldn't see the boy's face and so had no idea as to whether Albus was really being sincere or not. He fluttered down onto the bed to get a good view. To his surprise, Albus's face was shining with tears and the watery blue eyes were turned resolutely away from Fawkes; aimed at the floor. The phoenix was wrong-footed - he didn't think he'd been that hard on Albus and wondered whether he'd hurt him with his beak more than he'd realised.
"You're well, though - aren't you?" gulped Albus, still not looking at him.
"Well?" repeated Fawkes confusedly. "Yes… Why did you ask me that?"
"I - I thought you were h-hurt, when you didn't come," explained Albus tearfully, not daring to look at Fawkes.
Fawkes was so taken aback that, at first, he didn't say a word. Then he said, "Hold out your arm."
Albus blinked and turned his eyes back to the phoenix, bewildered. Hesitantly, he stuck out an arm.
"The one that's bleeding," said the phoenix patiently, in a warmer voice than he'd used before. Albus held out the bleeding arm and watched in astonishment as the golden bird positioned his head over the cut and began crying thick, pearly tears.
Albus snatched back his arm and grabbed Fawkes off the bed into his lap. Fawkes screeched in surprise as Albus began lifting up his wings and examining them.
"Are you hurt?" asked Albus, panicked. "Don't cry! Perhaps Nurse can-"
"Albus, I'm all right! I was healing you!"
Albus glanced at his arm to see that the cut had vanished. He gazed at the pale skin and then glanced back at the phoenix in confusion.
"Phoenix tears can heal," said Fawkes in explanation. "I'm sorry for cutting you," he added tentatively.
"I'm sorry!" exclaimed Albus again. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have lied! I'm a beastly boy; you should peck me! But please don't fly away!"
Fawkes sighed. "Albus, you're not a beastly boy. I'm really sorry for pecking you and I didn't mean what I said about flying away. I was just annoyed at you."
Albus wiped away his tears and gave Fawkes a small smile. "I'm annoyed at me, too."
Fawkes relented and allowed Albus to hug him, rubbing his small face into the phoenix's plumage, so that the bright auburn hair seemed to become one with the bird. Then phoenix and boy then sat back and talked about the day and were united in their hatred of Malfoy, whom Fawkes said really was a 'beastly little boy.'
A/N: Next chapter - the run-up to Hogwarts!