Finally, the spinning stopped and Harry found himself face first on the ground, groaning a little bit. For some reason, he knew he was the only one who fell on the ground at all. Thick green grass brushed through his fingers and then he felt a hand, pulling him up.
"There you go, Mr Pott...Lord Peverell. It still doesn't fit with me."
Harry sighed nodding at the owner of the hand.
"Thanks, Professor." Minerva McGonagall nodded, removing her hand. She looked utterly ridiculous to Harry. Gone was her normal dark green velvet robes, in favour of an orange green and white dressing robe and a large orange white and green hat on top of her head. It was pretty obvious what team Minerva McGonagall supported in this final.
She stepped back, letting Harry look around seeing a vast ocean of tents, flag colours, and people. Everywhere someone was running yelling talking singing and just having a great time. The dominant colours were the orange, white and light green of Ireland and the red, white and darker green of Bulgaria. Some people played music and others were drinking, cooking and of course betting. A new hand placed itself on Harry's shoulder and he smiled up to his godfather.
"Shall we go Prongslet?" he asked, smiling at his godson. Harry looked at the people who were around him. Sirius wore the red, white and green of Bulgaria in an almost as ridiculous amount as Professor McGonagall, with a jersey, a hat and a scarf around his neck. He had whispered to Harry he didn't really care about it but the Professor or Aunt Minnie, like Sirius called her was so easy to tease with these kinds of things he had to do it. It had been his idea to invite Harry's head of House and while he would never have thought about it himself, he had to say he was pleased. Professor McGonagall was famous for her Quidditch passion and that alone made it worthwhile having his own teacher there with him in his spare time. Also when not in school he was less worried about her stern nature.
Next to Sirius stood Narcissa, again wearing the dark blue of house Peverell in a perfect manner. Her coat had a high neck, tapering closely to her thin waist and she wore the Peverell Crest proudly on her chest. Her hair and makeup were flawless, and she did make a point of putting her hair up for the first time since she came to House Black into an elaborate hairdo.
Harry himself didn't wear the Peverell symbol on himself. Sirius had said he would have problems forbidding it Narcissa, but there would be quite a few people from all around the world and he didn't want his godson to be attacked by someone whose family was hurt by Grindelwald and his cronies. So Harry wore simple muggle clothes, not knowing what team he wanted to support really. Normally he went along with Ron's preference since his friend was far more knowledgeable than himself about the ins and outs of the Quidditch scene.
Harry was a little gloomy that his friend wasn't with him this time. Mr Weasley had actually gotten tickets himself and even invited Harry to join them before he had gotten Sirius birthday present. He had in return invited them to their private lodge, but Arthur Weasley had declined politely. He had worked hard for those tickets and he wanted to cherish it. Harry had understood, even if it saddened him. For the same reason, Hermione wasn't at his side. She had been invited by the Weasleys and she had said to Harry she would love to take up his invite but the Weasleys had asked first and she didn't want to be impolite by stepping back from an already taken invitation. So Harry found himself without his two best friends at the moment and it saddened him a little bit. But at least he wasn't alone.
Next to Narcissa stood Remus, actually wearing really nice clothes. To everybody's surprise, she had taken Remus shopping with herself after sneering at his wardrobe and stating, while he could do in his free time as he liked, she would not accept him disgracing the House he served by running around in rags. Lupin had groaned but complied and so they spent, to neither of their pleasure an afternoon buying him clothes. Since he got a steady income now, he paid himself, bad enough he had to run his clothes by this snobby princess, he wouldn't let Sirius pick up the bill.
But it wasn't all adults who accompanied them. For one Neville had taken up Harry's invite, looking a little uncomfortable in the Ireland coloured clothes he wore. His grandmother had stated he, of course, would support them, they had Irish ancestors after all! He had squirmed a little. He wasn't uber into Quidditch but Harry had invited him and he liked spending time with his friend so here he was. Also, this wasn't something that came up every day. So he had agreed and come here. He was more excited about sleeping in a tent since his Granny had never let him sleep out ever. It would be great being out there, in nature. Well in nature as in on a camping ground with trimmed grass and thousands of people around but still.
Also joining them was Susan Bones. The blond-haired niece of Amelia Bones had taken up the invite quite eagerly, being a big Bulgaria fan. She was half a head taller than Harry and had a funny lighthearted personality. At the moment she wasn't blond anymore, having turned her hair white, wearing a green jumper and red pants, she had transformed herself into a large Bulgaria flag. She could do it right now because her aunt wasn't there. Amelia was tied to the desk the last few days since there had been a ton of work due to the Finals. Duels over which team was better, illegal betting and one full-on street battle between almost fifty drunken fans were just a few of the many cases flooding her department at the moment. So she had been happy when Sirius had offered to take care of her niece for the day, stating he could handle three children and if not Minerva could absolutely handle it. It had made Amelia smirk ever so slightly and she was at ease knowing her niece was in good care.
Harry nodded and patted his godfather on the shoulder, only making him wince slightly.
"Prongslet watch out please." He hissed, rubbing his sour shoulder. Harry smiled innocently, shaking his head amused. Sirius Orion Black, Marauder, who had run with a werewolf while still being at school, had countless scars from fighting Death-Eaters during the war and all, was whining for two days now about the tattoo he had gotten. He and Harry went out to muggle London, where Harry had held his hand while the Tattoo was made. He had refused pain relieving potions or to do it the magical way, stating the pain was part of it. It hadn't stopped him from complaining about it at every turn that he couldn't sleep and all. Harry had found this utterly amusing chuckling at it knowing most of it was a show to annoy Narcissa. Still, he thought the motive was rather touching. A wolf and a dog howling at the moon while a Stag and a doe were lying before them nuzzling a lion cub. Harry had been really moved by it, shedding tears at this wonderful monument for his family. Moony had also looked fondly when Sirius had shown them his sketch.
Sirius kept going, talking on while they started walking onto the camping ground.
"Would you like me to nudge your pus bubble?" He pointed at Harry's chest, making the boy cover the lump in front of his torso with protective hands.
"Oi, that's not funny and you know it!" He carefully brushed over the lump in front of his chest. While he knew it was enchanted with cushioning charms and covered with an unbreakable globe, he still was worried. He had been from the first moment, he had held it.
Harry sat in the basement of Black Manor. He was completely alone, had banned Sirius Narcissa and Kreacher from the room. It was clear these were delicate information and it couldn't be risked. Also, he had asked them to put up silencing charms all around the room. He opened the book Professor Dumbledore had given to him and started reading on the first chapter.
"Creation:
Harry, at the beginning of your journey you will have to create your own Phoenix egg. The good news is, there is no actual spell or charm needed for this, so you can do it during the summer. Also regular magic will not interfere with the process, but I would keep the room free of dark artefacts. I sent you all the needed materials with this, only a hearth or other high-temperature heat source is needed. A fire is enough. There is no too hot, only too cold."
Harry nodded, checking again if the fire was blazing hot. It was unbearably hot in the room but he did his best, trying his hardest to stay calm.
"The process has to be started at high-noon on the day before a full moon. The entire process will take up exactly a full moon circle. It's not important whether you do it during the summer or the winter but I implore you not to wait too long. The quicker this information leaves your mind the better. I only remembered today and I will forget when I am done writing this book.
Harry glanced over at the tempus charm Sirius had set up for him counting down to high-noon.
Harry had pulled up a small package about the size of a large teacup. He opened it carefully and found in it fine white powder, like flour or more like ash. Next to it was a bottle of clear liquid. He placed both of it in front of himself. While he had read the chapter before he reread it to be careful, not to miss anything.
"Mix the phoenix ash with the tears. In nature, it would be the male phoenix providing the ash and the female setting up the tears. I don't know where Fawkes got the tears he just flamed away and returned with the bottle a few minutes later. Phoenixes know exactly how much is needed, so be in a room without wind, so the ash doesn't blow away. Mix it good care, with slow stirs. You will notice it turn somewhat solid like clay. The stirring speed is four."
His eyes wandered to the tempus charm again, staring at it while the minutes ticked down. He raised the bottle with the tears, holding his breath and at exactly zero he poured it over the pile of ash, soaking it instantly.
Harry did what the book told him to do, carefully mixing the two substances. He had learned in potions that the speed of the stir was important to the act of brewing and there had been hours of training to get the speed right because who did it wrong got docked in points pretty quickly by Snape. He kept on going until it suddenly turned to the clay-like substance the book said. Quickly he read on.
"After that take the, well there isn't a real word for that substance, I would say dough, and putting it into the form I provided. Put it into the flame." Harry did exactly what he was told to do, filling the form with little-shaking hands. He had no idea how careful he had to be but this was probably more fragile than potions, a subject far more delicate than any other, he placed it in the egg-shaped object made from gold and silver. Putting on thick gloves and taking up brass pliers he lifted the egg carefully stepping slowly closer to the fire. He was rather happy wearing thick dragon leather protection because with even this heat resilient materials encasing his body it was pure torture stepping closer to the fire. Yet he took his time, making deliberate moves. It was agony but he wanted to do it right and one fumble could be catastrophic. He placed the egg right in the centre of the flame, slowly pulled away from the pliers and then hurried away from the fire, taking deep breaths. He could feel the skin of his face crawling a little from the heat. He made his way over to the book again, sitting down and reading again. The delicate part was over, now came the unpleasant part.
"You should leave the egg in the flame until the outer form is bright red. Sixty-four red in potions terms. Then remove it and push the button on top of the form. Careful it will release the burning hot form, so place it on the prepared stand and don't let them fall on your feet like I almost did back then." He smiled reading this. To think a young Dumbledore jumping back from a bright hot form so he does not burn his toes of was kind of funny.
Harry stared into the flame waiting carefully. The fire kept on blazing, he felt the sweat beads on his forehead. His hands were folded in front of him and he just stared into the inferno. It was strangely calming. At first, he had wanted this to be over with, had wanted to get out of the heat and hot air. But after a few minutes, he felt rather calm. It was like his body had accepted the heat and thought "Well I did tell you about it, now I stop bothering you." So he just sat there with the patience only a potions-master and a very good seeker has, staring into the flame, his eyes fixed on the form, slowly changing its colour. It took the form almost forty minutes to change to the absolute right colour. Harry stepped up, using the pliers again and pulled the shell from its resting place. The shell crackled and seethed a little bit in the still brutally hot air, yet being much colder than the fire. He placed it on the stand and tapped the button with the pliers, making the two halves of the form fall of. It left a grey stone egg about the size of a chicken egg but lined with lines that looked like it was filled with magma. Knowing what to do next, Harry leapt forward and closed his hand around the egg without rereading that part. He had dreaded this part all day.
It was hot, really really not but not the hotness you would expect from something that had been in a blazing fire for forty minutes. More like the feeling you get when you have a potato too hot to eat in your mouth. He hissed in pain, feeling his palm burn. But the moment his hand closed around the egg, he could almost instantly feel it cool down. Quickly like the book had stated he put his hand under his shirt and everything holding the eggshell to his chest right above his heart. Then he sighed. It was done. He held his own phoenix egg to his chest, made by himself out off...what had he made it from? It was...Harry couldn't remember noticing the memory charm take place. He just stared at the form on the floor, in this really strange feeling of knowing he should know what these were about but couldn't find it in his memory like a deja-vu. He didn't know it yet but he would never again in his life remember these things.
Still, Harry felt the warm egg pressed against the skin over his heart, feeling it pulse lightly in accord to his own heartbeat. He had noticed it the second day it had been there. Sirius had placed after Harry had made sure with the book that it was okay, a sticking charm to the egg and the protection around it. For one full moon circle, he would carry the egg on his chest. He didn't take it off while sleeping, while showering, for nothing. It had to stay as close to the pumping heart as possible. His hand brushed over the bulge in his clothes careful and full of affection. He already felt the bond forming. It was heard to describe. When Sirius had asked him he had tried it and failed. The closest he got was like you were in your own room, where everything was around you at all times. Then there was this door that you have never seen before, more like never noticed, but it felt right being there and while you couldn't open it, you could see light shining through underneath it.
It had been a crude analogy but it was the closest Harry could describe it. He thought about asking a mother how it felt bearing a child but the only mother he had easy access to and who knew about his Phoenix was Narcissa and he didn't want to remind her of Draco and what he had done. So he kept to his own analogy. Still, he laid awake some nights, brushing over the egg in a loving manner and stared at it for hours. It felt so right being there, and he was a little afraid when the creature would hatch he would lose this feeling of closeness. It had only been a few days but he was already loving it. He knew he would love the Phoenix when it would hatch, like his own child. In some way, it was his child he thought. Or his companion. Hard to describe.
Of course, they had needed an excuse for him walking around with a lump on his chest and the protective behaviour of an overly aggressive lioness. Sirius came up with a solution. Stating to the visiting Weasleys Harry had made a mistake while brewing a potion and had a big pus-bubble on his chest, that would take a month or two to heal and was very painful when touched. Harry had wanted to rip his godfathers head off for the idea, especially when he had seen the glee in Fred and Georges eyes. That glee had stopped when he then had complained about the pain he endured with simple tasks like showering or wearing shirts. While the twins were pranksters they did not enjoy pain. Not so much at least, so they left him alone. Ron, of course, had asked if he could see, being a teenage boy. Harry had stated it was embarrassing and he didn't want to. But mostly Ginny had startled him while nuzzling close to him on the couch and offering him to apply the ointment on the bubble for him. She promised she had soft and careful hands making him blush hard and shaking his head rapidly.
The only person who was suspicious was of course Hermione. She had waited until the right moment and then had drilled him. What potion he was making. None she knew would create such an effect and those that created pus bubbles didn't last a month but instead could be reversed rather easy. And what was he doing, brewing such a dangerous potion without proper protection? Why hasn't he asked her when he was unsure about the potions class next year? She had been stern and inquisitive, all Hermione cornering him in a part of the kitchen with such intensity he had to wave Kreacher away before the elf could think his beloved Heir Black was being attacked. He had tried to lie, tried to tell her some story about the Black Library and being stupid and he wanted to try something new. She had just stared at him, raising an eyebrow waiting. Finally, he had caved, telling her it was a lie but he couldn't tell her what it was, promising he would tell her before school started. He had about four days between the full moon and the day the express left. She had let him of the hock and promised not to tell anyone.
He kept his hand over the lump on the front of his shirt, while they walked down the rows and rows of tents. Some were large others really tiny it was absurdly crowded. There were hundreds of people and it was loud! They had problems talking to each other. Sirius and Narcissa walked ahead, then came to the children, Minerva and Remus following behind and taking care no one got lost.
"There are so many people!" Neville looked around big-eyed. This was the biggest concentration of humans he had ever seen in his entire life. Susan laughed, hollering over the noise and voices.
"You should see London at New Year's Eve! That is crazy. There would be about ten times the amount of people. But yeah quite a few people around." Harry chuckled nodding. In the muggle world, there were bigger events. Yet he was intrigued how Susan was knowing that she was a pureblood witch after all. Maybe her Aunt? Well, she wasn't close to the muggle world either. So what else?
Neville's eyes went wide while he stared at the walking talking Bulgaria flag.
"Ten times? That many people exist?" He was dead confused. He knew there were more muggles than wizards but this was unbelievable. There were at least fifty thousand people around here! Harry was about to say something when someone bumped into his side making him almost fall over. His hand instantly shot up to his chest holding the egg careful and protective. The drunken man almost fell over his own feet glaring at Harry, frowning deeply.
"Look vhere you are going boy." He stated with a drunk Bulgarian accent, reaching out and grabbing Harry's forearm. He was tall, broad-shouldered and had rutty brown hair. His chin was not smoothly shaved and
"Hey!" He called out. Sirius and Narcissa swirled around, alarmed by the yell. Remus stepped forward himself when an angry growl came from the fastly reddening Sirius.
"TAKE YOU HAND AWAY!" He hollered at the man, flicking his wand out of his holster, pointing at the drunk Bulgarian. The man turned with the slowness of a drunk person, blinking at him, back at the wand point back at Sirius glowing twitching eyes. Like he had burned his hand he yanked his hand away from Harry, staring into these eyes.
Yuri Plavo wasn't a really smart man. He knew that himself. He had barely gotten through Durmstrung and had gotten mostly jobs as animal handler over in the dragon reservations. There were some jobs that were more about being sturdy and tough than about smarts so he fit it quite well. He was a brute and happy with his life, but at that moment he had known, staring into the glare and an abyss of madness behind these eyes, if he had not let go of the boy's hand he would have regretted it and that was certain. He would have been utterly destroyed for whatever bad thing he had done by holding some boys arm to not fall over piss drunk as he was. The man lowered the wand, jerking his chin to point him away.
Yuri was about to do so when his eyes flicked tot he side and he saw the most beautiful woman in the world. Her hair was blond and black, made up in the most delicate way. Her slender eyebrows curved smooth above piercing grey eyes, followed by a slim nose and the most plum and juicy lips in the entire world. That there was a tall pale beauty with a long swan-like neck, narrow shoulders, a wonderful waist and by Merlin her breasts were out of this world. Yuri took a step closer to the beauty not noticing the distant sneer on her face.
"Hey krasota, you are to beativul vor this kopele, hov about you and I vill..."
His voice trailed off while he squinted his eyes. He had stared at her breast while he spoke his words and slowly his drunken brain deciphered the symbol on her left chest side. A line, a circle, a triangle. She was wearing that out in the open? That cursed symbol? He pointed his shaking finger at her yelling.
"Hov dare you vear that? You fucking bitch you vill-"
He couldn't finish his sentence because a rather brutal slamming curse knocked the guy over when Sirius lowered his wand. He stepped over, kicking the groaning man into the side, glaring at him madly, so mad even Harry was a little uncomfortable with it.
"How dare you call my cousin that? No One! Crosses my family!" He glared around, looking if anyone staring back at him. Harry stepped closer, putting his fingers on his godfather's forearm. He was aware of the fear and uncertainty in Susan's and Nevilles eyes as well as the worry in Professor McGonagall's and Remus'. Sirius stared at the man lying on the ground for a moment before he huffed, putting his arm around Harry's shoulder and walking on.