Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.


"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

"blah" : Parseltongue

"blah": Legilimency/Telepathy

Italics: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

Bold: a word or phrase that is emphasized

Italics, Underlined, and Bold: location/date of a scene in the story


Chapter Twelve: The Return of the Silver Serpent

Number Four, Privet Drive: July 31st, 1996

"I am Salazar Slytherin."

And that statement was nothing but the truth.

'Yet, for some bizarre reason, this all seems to make a strange sort of sense,' a young man with black hair and emerald eyes thought to himself after his startling declaration. 'First, I am a parselmouth. You can't really be more Salazar-like than that. Second,' he added, ticking off his fingers, 'the Sorting Hat did want to place me in Slytherin, another big hint. Third, I was actually sad when the Basilisk died; it was like killing an old friend.' The teenager sighed then, wistfully staring off into space. He rubbed his temples and put his head in his hands.

'I really wish I could have saved her,' he resumed after a moment. 'She was meant to protect the school, not attack the students. Though, I am quite confused as to how she ended up under the girl's toilet. I know for a fact that that wasn't the Chamber of Secrets. At least, not my Chamber of Secrets. Indoor plumbing wasn't installed in the school until long after I had already died.' He paused to puzzle over the mystery for a moment.

Harry Potter contemplated this conundrum before finally deciding that he would not be able to solve it without investigating further. He sighed then and continued his earlier train of thought.

'Not that being Salazar is necessarily a bad thing. I have always had this strange fondness for silver and green.' The young man grinned and chuckled to himself. 'All told, it should have been pretty obvious that I had some sort of connection to Slytherin.'

He exhaled very slowly but spoke aloud this time, "Why does this sort of thing always happen to me?"

However, the young man received no answer, not that he was really expecting one, other than a hoot from his owl Hedwig. The snowy bird looked at him disdainfully, upset because he had woken her from a sound sleep, before closing her amber eyes and drifting back into the land of dreams. Harry looked at his familiar for a moment before frowning and lying back on his bed.

This was just not his day.

First, the teenager had woken up, only to find himself in a heap on the floor. He had sat up stiffly, having spent the entire night on the hard wood, attempting to figure out why by Circe he had slept there. Then, he had remembered the night before: the strange amulet, the flash of light, the phoenix song. The returned memories.

Harry Potter had remembered that he had once been Salazar Slytherin in a past life. But not just any past life… his last life. The one directly before his current one, no stages in between. Harry had a direct link to one of the Darkest wizards in history; he had a direct connection to the supposed betrayer of Hogwarts. He had a direct relation to one of the most powerful and feared men in history.

Harry Potter was still reeling from the ramifications. And the only thing he could really focus on currently was how much his head was aching from the irony of it all.

He, the Golden Child of the Glorious House of Gryffindor, was the sly and crafty Silver Serpent himself. Fate must really be laughing at him right now, and undoubtedly, she had it in for him as well.

And it was entirely the Gate's fault.

Green eyes narrowed as Harry turned to look at the shimmering, blue amulet that was innocently sitting on his nightstand. The selfsame talisman that had brought this revelation of his true nature. The powerful and old artifact was the exact one he had discovered as Salazar and had been sent as Harry. The very same amulet that had earned its name from both the phoenix engraved on it and its gate-like powers in regards to time, and a number of other things.

The Phoenix Gate.

Harry mock-glared at the swirling object, the talisman glowing brighter as it recognized his scrutiny. It shifted in color from a light, sky blue to a deep cobalt and back to an aqua color. Light danced across the phoenix carving. For a moment, Harry swore that he saw it move, that he saw the bird ruffle its delicately engraved feathers and wink at him.

The teenager turned his eyes away, remembering a piece of advice from Arthur Weasley long ago: "Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain."

Yet, he quickly dispelled the thought. He knew the Gate was nothing but well-intentioned and was an artifact of the neutral part of the spectrum. Even if it, like the Sorting Hat, was too smart for its own good sometimes.

Harry stared at it for a few moments before he began to feel a strange tickling in his mind. It was like someone was poking him in the back of the head, though he definitely knew that no one was. But at the same time, it felt like one of Molly Weasley's many lectures. It was like someone, or something, wanted him to stop worrying.

"Alright," the reborn Slytherin finally spoke, his eyes on the amulet. "Alright, I will stop brooding. Happy now?"

The Gate glowed brighter, and Harry scowled before suddenly smiling. The amulet just seemed to have that effect on people. It could make anyone feel better… well, unless their name happened to be Godric Gryffindor, but that was a story for another time.

Unexpectedly, Harry laughed, finally losing the battle against the absurdity and irony of the entire situation. He was Salazar Slytherin. He was brooding over being Slytherin. He was being silently lectured by an object, of all things, for being broody. And now, he had just sulkily glared at said object.

Once again, Fate was toying with him.

'This is just not my day.' Harry glanced once again to the amulet and added, "Well, at least some good has come of it though. I remember my past now. I know that Siobhan is real and that she is reborn.' He paused for a moment before continuing. 'I know that my friends are once more alive and well. I have my life back, the life denied by Godric.' He again hesitated but smirked and went on, 'Plus, I know Occlumency now and Legilimency also. Those will be handy skills in my war against Tom and his minions. But I'll probably have to practice to refresh my skills.'

Unexpectedly, the young man was shaken from his bizarre musings due to an odd tingling in the back of his mind, but this time, it wasn't from the Gate. It took him a few seconds to recognize the sensation as it was one he hadn't experienced in his current life. It was the feeling those skilled in certain offshoots of Legilimency or Occlumency and with a natural Empathy gift, the ability to sense approaching auras of magical beings. A witch, in this case.

Harry quickly rolled out of his bed, grabbing his wand from its place on his bedside table, and cautiously approached his window. He was rather disconcerted as the aura felt familiar, but as he was so out of practice, Harry could not place it. The teenager moved to the glass and stood by the side, peeking out. He then smiled widely, grinning at the sight of bubblegum pink hair.

Tonks was standing at his front door.


Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near the Defense Professor's Office: The Same Day

Three people were standing in the middle of the third floor corridor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The youngest male, a black man with an earring, looked on bemusedly at his companions from his position near a wall. The only female of the trio stood near him with her back turned, facing an older man. He, in turn, stood in the direct center of the hallway, staring at her.

"You went to see Potter earlier?" Moody asked, pausing mid-step. His natural eye was narrowed, the other whirling about like mad.

Tonks smirked. "But of course. I had to deliver his birthday gifts."

All Moody could say to this revelation was, "Humph."

Both Tonks and Kingsley chuckled before continuing down the corridor.

"So," Shacklebolt queried after a moment as they approached the end of the hallway, "we're just going to do another walk about to check the internal wards? Nothing else?"

"Hm… yes, that's it," Alastor stated, coming out of his daze. "Just that." He turned to his colleagues, shifting back to his normal behavior. "I'll check out the section near the Hospital Wing." The other two smiled at this pronouncement, but Mad-Eye ignored them. "Kingsley will look at the wards in the dungeons, and Tonks will stay in this area." He looked at the other two fiercely. "Let's move people," he ordered with his usual gruffness.

The other two Aurors exchanged very bemused looks before complying. And soon, only Tonks was left in the corridor. She walked slowly around the corner and down the next hallway, visually and magically scanning the updated warding. She nodded absentmindedly as she observed the deep, red color of the wards as she scanned them.

'Good,' she noted, passing her wand over an area, 'it is exactly the right color.'

She briefly hesitated as she came to a spot that was very light red, more of a pink than anything else. The Auror tapped in with her finger a few times, feeling the quite weak tingle of magic and frowning. Idly, she made a mental note of its location, and she continued on, scanning automatically as her mind wandered elsewhere. She took a few more steps, shivering oddly, despite the fact that it was actually rather warm.

Sometimes, when Tonks was within an ancient building like Hogwarts, she would have this eerie feeling at the base of her spine. It was just a tingling along her back, but it was peculiar and only occurred in older structures. The older the building, the more prevalent the tingling. It felt almost like she was walking through a ghost, but it was more concentrated.

The Auror shivered again, stepping further down the corridor. She started when she heard an unusual sound just behind her, but she didn't turn around. Instead, the woman merely searched with her senses before going on her way, ignoring the fact that the sound was still there.

Tonks was rather used to bizarre noises, at any rate. They were even worse than the shivers she always seemed to have, mostly since the noises had no plausible explanation. Sometimes, it would sound like talking or maybe laughter. Sometimes, it just sounded like people moving or walking about. Whatever it was, Tonks seemed to be the only one who noticed. None of her companions or friends ever did; she had asked them before. It was almost like she was catching glimpses of the past, of people who had once been in the building and were now long dead and gone. People who were truly gone, leaving no ghost behind. It was echoes of what once was. Echoes only she could hear.

The Auror shook her head, dispelling her train of thought as she came to another weak spot in the wards. She repeated her earlier test and made another mental note before continuing with her task. The woman quickly but thoroughly went up and down each part of her section, checking on the wards before finally returning to her starting point near the Defense classroom. She approached the area swiftly and silently, loitering just outside before deciding to finally knock on the partially closed door.

"Enter," was the reply from within.

She stepped through the door and was about to speak when the man sitting behind a desk looked up. He smiled when he noticed her.

"Hello, Auror Tonks. It is good to see you. Is there anything I can do for you today?" He quickly stood up and came around to the front.

Tonks shook her head. "No, I've just finished checking the wards and decided to stop by since I was in the area."

Professor Boyd looked pleased by the pronouncement, but Tonks wasn't sure which part.

"Oh, did you find anything of interest?"

"Just a few weak points. I'll have Flitwick look over them," she said easily, coming up to him.

"Well, hopefully Filius can fix any problems you have found. I hear that he is excellent with that sort of thing," the Defense teacher replied, moving closer to Tonks and tilting his head down so that he could look at her better.

The Auror shrugged, noticing their closeness. "Yeah, he is. He actually set up wards in Ravenclaw dorms to let him know if when there's trouble. I remember this one time in my fourth year, a fight broke out between two older boys, and Flitwick was there within minutes. Nobody even had to summon him."

Professor Boyd looked impressed. "Establishing a ward that notifies you so quickly is very difficult." He glanced at his companion. "We will definitely be in good hands then."

"Yes," the woman stated in agreement.

Both lapsed into silence.

After a moment, the professor spoke again, "Was there anything else, Auror? I hope there is, for I do not want to leave quite yet." He inched closer. "It is really good to see you again, Lady Tonks." He gently took her hand, and instead of shaking it, he gently kissed the back.

Tonks blushed fiercely, her hand lingering in his. She quickly cast her mind about for another topic of conversation, hopefully one less embarrassing. Her purple eyes landed on the various papers on his desk.

"So what were you doing before I came in? Making lesson plans?" she asked curiously.

The man shifted somewhat on his feet, still holding on to her hand. "Er… well, no. You see, I was…"

"Yes?"

"I was looking at my Chocolate Frog Card Collection," Professor Boyd answered truthfully, avoiding Tonks' eye. He had truly been looking at the cards, one in particular. The one for La Muerte.

"Really? You collect those as well?" the Auror asked with more than a hint of excitement. "Most adults don't. A lot of my friends think I'm crazy for still doing it. Most people only keep their collections from childhood and don't bother to expand it."

"Yes… well, everyone needs a hobby, right? I just happen to like the cards." He gave an embarrassed grin. "I like history, so having pictorial biographies of famous people is simply perfect for me," he stated with a bit of awkwardness, mostly due to Tonks' tone.

"Hm… I just always liked collecting them. I don't really have a reason. It just gives me something to do. My cousin Si… my cousin used to collect also."

"Used to?" Boyd asked, noting her reluctance to name her cousin.

"Yeah, you see… he died," she answered faintly. "Very recently… he--"

The man inclined his head. "It is alright. I understand," he stated sympathetically.

Tonks sniffled before also nodding. The pair stood in awkward silence for a few heartbeats before the professor finally found the courage to speak again.

"So…" He cast his mind about for another topic. "Would you be interested in trading cards with me? I still do not have Arachne, Penelope of Ithaca, or the Necromancer Dorée."

Tonks smiled and blinked back moisture. "Sure. I have about a dozen of him. For some strange reason – especially since the card is so rare – well, lately every card I get seems to be him."


Devon, Archimedes' Tower (Longbottom Manor): The Same Day

Neville Longbottom sat quietly on his bed, flipping through the birthday gift Harry had sent him via his snowy owl earlier in the day. It was a Muggle book of plants and was filled with colored photos of various domestic and foreign species, their appearance, properties, and location.

The chubby wizard was absolutely enthralled by his gift. It was one of the few he had received today that he truly enjoyed. All the other presents had been given by well-meaning but completely oblivious relatives. They had gotten him things like Quidditch posters and equipment. They had gotten him things that they had thought he would like. Things that Frank, his father, would have liked at his age. Things that, if they truly knew him, they would have realized Neville would never need or use. He didn't even really like Quidditch. He only watched Gryffindor play to support his House and cheer on his friends.

His relatives had bought him those things because they thought he would like them, but he didn't. He had only smiled and thanked them, understanding that they didn't really know him at all. If they had, they would have bought him things like plants, pots, books on Herbology. They would have given him things like Harry had sent him, things like Luna's gift of a Wimble-womble plant. Things like all his friends had sent.

Neville sighed and looked up from his book, realizing that he was too caught up in his own thoughts to really focus on reading. From downstairs, he heard the laughter of his relatives, and it only caused him to sigh again. He had left his own birthday party early, a party sans his friends and filled with only relatives. And nobody had even realized. Not even his grandmother had noticed; she was too caught up in talking with her three sisters about some nonsense gossip. The same kind she insisted she could not tolerate, though she often indulged in it.

He shook his head as he heard more laughter waft through his door. They were far too busy to even note that he was gone, but Neville was used to this type of behavior. He had always been a disappointment to his family. He had never really been good enough for them, and that was the main reason he had so many problems. He had always been a burden on his family. He had always been the child passed around at family events, the one who nobody wanted to be around.

The one who was a failure.

Sometimes in the dead of night, when he was staring at his ceiling and trying to fall asleep, Neville would think on the fact that he was such a disappointment. He would recall why he wasn't worth half as much as his father, just as his Uncle Algie had once told him. He would remember how he shamed the family, just like Cousin Arielle had once said when she hadn't realized he was there. He would ponder how his grandmother really wished it had been him who was tortured and driven insane instead, just as she had confided to her older sister late one night when she thought Neville asleep and in bed.

And sometimes, when he was contemplating his total lack of worth, he would have this strange flickering in the back of his mind. The same feeling one had when trying to remember something really, really important. Sometimes, Neville would have this feeling and then have flashes of images. Images that for the life of him he could never place. Images of a castle, a sword, a lake, a smart-mouthed owl, a mysterious lady, a proud and regal man, a strange and giant stone, and great and wonderful and sometimes terrible magic.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Neville knew that these images were vitally important. Yet, for the life of him, he just couldn't remember why.


Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, The Third Floor Study: The Same Day

"What should we say?" Charlie asked as he leaned back into his chair. "That we wish he'd come back? That we're sorry? That we're suspicious of Dumbledore, too?"

"I don't know, Charlie," Bill said with exasperation. "All I do know is that I want my brother back. I want my favorite bookish, library fiend – outside of Hermione – back." He exhaled, his deep blue eyes closing. "I just want Percy back. I just… I need him back," he finished in a small voice.

Charlie leaned over, his hand covering that of his older brother and best friend. "I know. I need him back, too. It's just not the same without him." He looked around wistfully. "There's no one to save us from Mum's lectures. There's no one to spare us from Dad's Muggle obsession. There's no one to shield us from the twins' pranking. There's no one to play chess with Ronnie when nobody else will. There's no one else willing to have tea parties with Ginny, not that she does that anymore. There's no one to pick us up when we fall. There's--"

"--no one to hold us all together," the older brother concluded shakily.

"Yeah," his sibling added, running at tanned hand over his very tired face. "There's no middle. There is a beginning and an end, but there's no middle. The middle is what keeps everything together. It makes all the pieces fit. It keeps them safe and secure."

Bill nodded. Both lapsed into silence. The two just sat there, thinking over their lost brother for almost an hour before Charlie spoke again.

"What should we tell him, Bill?" he asked, his chocolate-brown eyes tight with worry.

The older man answered after a minute, "We should tell him that we miss him. That we need him. That we worry about Dumbledore and the Order and the war. That we can't lose him." He hesitated for a heartbeat, fighting back the tears that were threatening to come. "We should tell him the truth."

Charlie smiled faintly, looking at his sibling. "So we'll tell him that he's our brother and that nothing will ever change that."

Bill met his brother's gaze and grinned lightly. "Yes, that's exactly what we'll say."


Number Four, Privet Drive: The Same Day (Late Evening)

Harry stared at the letter in his hand, willing the writing on the parchment to actually make some kind of sense. After a few minutes, he exhaled heavily but continued to gaze at the paper. He turned it this way and that, right-side up and upside down. However, no matter what he did, he still couldn't quite comprehend what it was telling him.

It just didn't make any sense.

Dumbledore had written him a letter. Dumbledore had wished him a happy birthday. Dumbledore had sent him a birthday gift. Dumbledore had apologized for last year. Again. Dumbledore had apologized for the prophecy. Again. Dumbledore had apologized for Peachy the house-elf. Again.

Dumbledore was acting very strange.

"The headmaster is coming to see me in a week," Harry thought out loud, looking slightly shell-shocked.

On his bed, Fawkes the phoenix sat quietly, studying him with intent eyes. He cocked his head to one side, rubbing his beak with his wing in deep thought. Nevertheless, at Harry's statement, the phoenix sat up straighter.

"Of course, he is." The creature inclined his head to the side even further. "You have much to discuss with him, and we have much to discuss as well."

"Oh, so you can talk," Harry said, coming out of his shock. He was taking this revelation rather well, all things considered. "I have always suspected that you could."

Fawkes simply glared at him. "Don't change the subject."

Harry threw his hand up in defeat. "Yes, I know that we have much to discuss." He ran a hand through his hair. "Like the fact that I'm Salazar Slytherin. Like the reincarnation of the other Founders. Like the Headmaster's upcoming visit. What exactly does he want to discuss anyway?" he questioned, narrowing his very suspicious eyes.

Fawkes breathed out in a great snort. "That is between the two of you. I am not going to involve myself in this private matter any more than I need to be." The bird ruffled his feathers. "But as to the other things, you listed… well, they are all fair game."

Though Harry was not pleased by the phoenix's evasion, he nodded. He could understand why Fawkes was hesitant to involve himself further.

"Alright, then." He thought for a moment. "I want to talk about the fact that I'm Salazar. I mean, it is kind of ironic, isn't it? Me, Harry," he stated and tapped himself in the chest with his hand, "the supposed epitome of Gryffindorism is actually a reincarnation of Slytherin. Is it just Fate's way of having a laugh at the wizarding world?"

Fawkes smiled as much as possible when one possessed a beak. "You never know; it might just be." He chirped a laugh at the teenager's indignant snort. "In all honesty, it was because of Godric's treachery. His House is built on a lie. It was supposed to be built on his integrity, bravery, and honesty. However, he didn't truly have those qualities in the end." He idly flapped his wings and shifted on the bed, attempting to find a more comfortable position. The bird settled into the thin comforter.

"The Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor to…" Fawkes paused for an instant trying to find the right word. "Well, I guess counterbalance what Godric did. You were meant to bring integrity and honesty back into Gryffindor. And as you no doubt have noticed, they can be very judgmental and distrustful – bordering on hostile – to anything they perceive as not like themselves. They are much like Godric himself in that manner."

"Hmm… yes. Gryffindors tend to be like that, especially with anything related to Dark. Most of us, not including me, think that Dark equals evil. But that isn't the case." Harry paused, thinking it over as he absentmindedly rubbed his chin. "Wait a minute. You said that the Hat put me in Gryffindor to balance Godric, but I had the option to be a Slytherin," he stated in confusion.

"Yes, as did the other Founders. Yet, I think on an unconscious level you knew that you were needed in Gryffindor, so you chose that House instead." Fawkes again smiled. "Draco Malfoy's atrocious behavior was the last little push you needed to get into Gryffindor."

The reborn Founder laughed. "And it was quite a push. I just kept thinking 'not Slytherin' since he was there. I didn't want to have him as a Housemate for seven years."

"Indeed."

Harry contemplated in silence before he raked his hand through his hair again. "Does this mean the other Founders also balanced Gryffindor?"

"It does," the phoenix confirmed. "Notice that both Rowena and Helga are now considered Gryffindors as well. As is Helga's husband, Edmund. Also, note that neither Quinn nor Siobhan are. Instead, they are now in the House of their closest friend. Siobhan went to Ravenclaw and Quinn to Slytherin."

The teenager gave a physical affirmative. "Yes, I did notice that." He bit his lip. "Was it the Sorting Hat's way of further equalizing?" He hesitated as the bird inclined his head. "Why were Siobhan and Quinn not in Gryffindor as well?"

"We – Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat, and I – didn't want to skew the scales too much in Gryffindors favor," Fawkes replied softly. "We wanted the other Houses to have some of the originals' magic circulate through."

"What about Hufflepuff then?" Harry inquired. "Is that why almost everyone who wasn't a Founder or their spouse went there? To preserve the balance since the others went elsewhere?" The reborn Slytherin considered the possibilities.

"Indeed, almost half of the original faculty has been reborn to be happy Badgers." Fawkes chirped cheerfully. "It is all about balance. The others might not have as much influence as you or Rowena… or even Edmund, but together, they were enough."

"Interesting." Harry rubbed his chin before continuing, "And the Heirs of the Founders?"

The phoenix stated, "Oh, they move around, just like everyone else. In fact, usually they aren't in the House for which they are an heir. However, there are some exceptions, like Mr. Riddle."

"I'm not one of the exceptions though," Harry stated with sudden heat. "And how is it even possible?" His vivid green eyes narrowed. "I am a biological descendant of Slytherin as well as Salazar himself," he said with exasperation. He was about to continue on what would undoubtedly be a heated rant when he suddenly froze, an odd thought coming to mind. "Wait," he whispered in an oddly neutral voice, "does the headmaster know?"

Fawkes ruffled his feathers. "Of course not. He's not omniscient, no matter how hard he tries to convince others that he is all-seeing. He has no idea that there are heirs of Slytherin other than Riddle, much less that you are his reincarnation."

"Well, how do you know then?" the teenager asked suspiciously.

"I am Hogwarts' phoenix and best friend. I know everything… well, at least everything she knows," the bird responded somewhat smugly.

Harry didn't look very convinced but chose to ignore the comment, returning to an earlier topic of conversation. "I am my own descendant. That's what the Gate… well, I guess said isn't exactly the right word, but that's what it showed me," the reborn Founder informed the creature. "It just makes no sense, and it's kind of dodgy," he murmured with confusion.

Fawkes gave the phoenix equivalent of a sigh. "In a strictly literal sense, you could consider yourself a soul descendent." He straightened, going into lecture mode. "Well, you see, souls tend to travel in family lines. You'll be a member of a family in one life, let's say Salazar Slytherin. In the next, you could inhabit the body of what should be your many-times-great-grandchild, Harry Potter," the bird answered thoughtfully, settling himself more fully on the bed.

Harry tilted his head in understanding. "It sounds better when you say it that way. I was worried there for a minute," he said cheekily, letting Fawkes know that he was only being silly.

"Further, souls tend to travel in groups," the phoenix continued, flapping his wings and ignoring Harry's last comment. "The people you know from one life will be the same souls you know in the next."

"Such as my friends and associates as Salazar, who are also my friends and associates now," Harry commented with interest. "I had wondered if it was the Gate's doing, but apparently, it is true for everyone. The relationships changed some but are still essentially the same."

"Yes, exactly. It is true for most," Fawkes replied. "Indeed, their relation to you might change. For example, your mother in one life might be your sister in the next. Your son now might end up being your grandfather next time around. One thing, however, true mates in past lives will never be blood relatives in any of the following lives. It is just too bizarre for that to happen, much less for us to contemplate." The phoenix shuddered at the mere thought. "Other than that, the familiar relationships change, but generally, the friendships and the love do not," he concluded, fluttering his wings. "There are, however, exceptions." He gazed at Harry evenly.

"Like Severus and I?" the young man responded innocently.

"Yes, like you and Severus." Fawkes sniffed and rolled his green-gold eyes. "And how you despise each other. Or should I say, like he despises you. You now know better."

Harry shrugged weakly. "Yes, I know better. But not to worry, Fawkes, he and I will have a talk after all has been revealed to him," he said seriously, expression darkening. "I am sure he will have many questions. And there will undoubtedly be apologies – no matter how grudgingly given – on both sides."

Fawkes nodded and gave the bird equivalent of a grin. "Yes, there will most certainly be apologizes." He ruffled his feathers and came to his feet, preparing to leave. "Now." He looked at Harry intently. "As much as I don't want to go," the bird responded honestly, "I have several other places I have to be today. I trust that you will remember what we have discussed. I also trust that you will be ready for when Albus comes."

Harry acquiesced, "I will."

"Good." The bird winked at Harry. "Goodbye, my friend, and good luck."

Harry opened his mouth to give his farewell, but the phoenix had already disappeared in a burst of flame. The teenager shook his head and exhaled slowly, and he again glanced to the letter from the headmaster.

'One week,' he thought, face tightening. 'I have one week to prepare.' He smirked then, the Slytherin within him rising completely to the surface. 'Though I am not sure what exactly he wants to discuss, I'll prepare for every eventuality.' Harry laughed, thinking over a few quick plans. A sudden and joyful thought entered his mind.

'By the Maker, it is so good to be back.'


Double-extra-super House points to ZeonReborn, who correctly guessed that the amulet was the Phoenix Gate. Kudos to Lady Salazar for having a cool name.

AN: Perhaps I should mention this now. This fic will only cover Harry's summer before sixth year and part way into the year. Well, and the appropriate past parts. After that it is sequel time. I am not sure how far into sixth year it will go. As of now, I have it planned to include Halloween. Then, there will be a gap in time for about a week or two, and that's where the sequel will pick up. Also, the timeline will go much faster from there. The third story in the series will start around March or April of Harry's sixth year. I am doing this because a big event will happen around Easter, and at the rate I am going, it will take ten thousand chapters to get there if I write it straight through.

To everyone who reviewed: Thanks!

Special thanks to Hobbit-Tabby for the beta.

Chapter Thirteen: Sister of the Raven


Ever Hopeful,

Azar

Updated and Edited:

06/06/08