A/N: Hello!
Phoenix's Order is back and edited and better! This time it
should actually be readable, I got rid of those awkward formulations
and hopefully you'll find it worth the bother.
Thank you all and
everyone who reviewed! I cherish it, even a single line makes me feel
appreciated. I know it took a long, long time, but I like this story
too much to abandon it. So, please, review again, I really am
sweating blood…
Brynn
Chapter 11: Albus Dumbledore
Harry slowly paced up from the dungeon, so lost in thoughts about Hermione and Ron, Ginny, her idea of Felix Felicis and, surprisingly, Vivax (who wrote a chapter dedicated to the effects, use and misuse of the potion), that he forgot to dread any coming confrontation.
So it came unsuspected – through the corner of his eye he noticed a shadow moving in the dim, flickering candlelight. Reflexively, his left hand – the one he didn't hold a box in – flew to his pocket to retrieve the wand.
"I have an offer for you, Mr Potter," sounded a voice he knew, but rarely heard speaking politely.
"And that would be, Mr Nigellus?" he responded in fashion, yet cautiously. The man's black eye appeared in a framed bookplate, giving Harry a direction to stare in.
"Not here. Tonight, in the trophy room."
And he was gone. Harry raised an eyebrow, trudging up the stairs to the first floor, where he hesitated. Fawkes didn't call him yet. But maybe he couldn't; Ginny hinted that whatever it was she did cut Legilimentic connections to anyone in the laboratory.
He pocketed the capsules and decided to go and at least knock on the door to find out if Dumbledore was free for a short chat with him… He screwed his face at the thought as though Fawkes made him taste lemon. Which he could await soon, but he couldn't care less.
Approaching the heavy oak door he heard voices.
'They could have at least put up a Silencing Charm,' he thought and went a step away, when the beings in the closed room spoke again.
"Not here, Dumbledore. One of the Gryffindor brats you are housing already eavesdropped it! The house-rivalry here is the only reason the... boy doesn't know yet."
It was Snape's voice. Harry stopped, amazed by himself, to hear more. He hated the man with all of his heart, but both Fawkes and Dumbledore trusted him… It was enough to make him a fascinating subject, in a deranged way.
"You will have to tell him eventually-"
"No. I won't have to. And I won't."
"He will notice in the end, Severus. He isn't stupid."
He heard Snape snort. Whoever were they talking about (Grimmauld Place was full of 'boys', and Snape obviously used the term loosely), the Potion master didn't think of him highly.
"He is not. After all, he didn't have anyone to inherit such demerit from."
Was Dumbledore's voice tinged with malice? Harry had become quite skilled in distinguishing emotions, but this didn't particularly suit the ex-Headmaster. Although… the ghost he remembered from the last Friday it did suit.
"You surely don't consider-" Snape wanted to argue, but shut up suddenly. Harry subconsciously held his breath. There was a loud crash in the room as something fragile broke. The next moment the door to the Black Library flew open and a seething black blur, which could only be Snape, virtually shot out of it.
Before he could think, just to avoid a face-to-face meeting, which he knew he wouldn't be able to withstand, Harry Apparated to Ron's bedroom. It was pitch black and he could smell old socks; somehow he didn't feel like lighting up. He waited. There was a short pause when Snape stopped; it was on the same floor where Harry was hiding and for a short moment of irrational fright he thought that the man knew he had listened. Then the stomps resumed and thumping downstairs faded.
Harry Apparated back to his previous position, drawing long, refreshing breaths.
"So? Have you tamed him yet?" Dumbledore asked with disgust in his voice. Harry frowned; his mind was finally prepared to admit that the Headmaster was a different person than who he used to see. It hurt but he would stand it and learn to deal with the new, ghostly self.
"He's not like you Albus."
Harry's jaw fell – it was Ginny! Ginny was responding to Dumbledore, though, obviously, she was only passing Fawkes's thoughts. So that was how she knew about he phoenix's true self… But how did she hear its mind's voice? As far as Harry knew, the current charge was the only one able to hear it…
Ginny continued.
"I won't be taming him. He doesn't need that – he's obedient but not stupid and I can let him think for himself without risking a homicide. To tell the truth, I don't remember meeting a person with considerable skills and such stronge sense for 'doing good'."
Harry shivered. It was positively weird, even frightening, to hear Ginny talk this way. Te fact that she was acting like this towards Dumbledore, who used to be a person of the greatest authority imaginable, didn't make it a bit better.
"For example, now he stands behind a door and eavesdrops – and he feels ashamed and guilty. Have you ever felt guilty?"
Harry almost gave up and left, then he thought it would be fair to go inside and apologise and in the end he didn't move at all, because he realised that Fawkes didn't specify 'the door' and he wouldn't have done that without purpose.
"Of course I have. Often," Dumbledore added, but somehow it sounded as though he didn't really care. For some reason it offended Harry, but he decided it wasn't important. He had to persuade himself that he believed it, but eventually managed.
"Certainly not about eavesdropping," Ginny said and sniffed indignantly. It was amazing how a creature that wasn't physically disposed to make such sound was able to elicit it from somebody who only chanelled its thoughts.
"Well, I haven't, that is true," the ghost admitted.
"Albus, Albus… What have you done to the boy?" Ginny asked. Harry had mixed feelings about that – he was both glad and disappointed that he didn't see that. Ginny berating Dumbledore! He always knew that girl was special…
"I've sent him to his Muggle relatives. He had had it hard, but he also evaded the Middle Age thinking of the wizarding society while forming his personality. He learnt many important things he otherwise wouldn't know."
'This is how Dumbledore describes living with the Dursleys? I would wish him to spend some time with them; maybe he, too, would learn some important things…'
From the coldness in Ginny's voice he could tell Fawkes was really mad.
"Just once I let you out of my reach and you-"
"Do something you don't like? Just don't pretend you are surprised."
"You have no idea what he went through. What angers me most is that if you knew, you wouldn't have cared. Honestly, Albus, if you weren't dead, I would show you."
popopopopo
'Come in, Harry,' calmly said Fawkes's voice in his head.
'Does it mean I won't be disciplined for eavesdropping?' he asked hopefully. Unless the phoenix was a hypocrite he shouldn't have been. However, after the bitter experience with misjudging Dumbledore he wasn't so sure about almost anybody's character.
'Of course you won't. Unless you have been previously asked to not do so, which you in this case weren't. And don't hesitate before doing it again; it's one of the things that could save your life.'
He nodded and pushed the heavy door open.
Dumbledore was hovering in front of the shelf labelled Poisons and Antidotes, smiling at him, the familiar twinkle in his eyes. Harry looked away from him; that twinkle was something he didn't trust anymore. It was there to make him feel safe, relax and cauterise his vigilance.
Ginny was sitting in a blue plush armchair that contrasted sharply with the rest of the interior, still wearing the same rich-looking robe. Her hair was now pulled back in two braids, though, unlike on the old photograph, she didn't sport any ribbons.
"Hello, Harry," she said with a smile that made his heart skip a beat.
"Hello. Long time no see," he said with irony.
"Indeed," she admitted, smiling mysteriously.
'Why her? Couldn't you find someone better to make your puppet? I split up with her to ensure her safety and you just drag her-'
'No,' Fawkes responded, not at all impressed by Harry's accusation, though not enough annoyed yet to think up a disciplinary.
'Sorry?'
'No. I couldn't find anyone better. She is absolutely ideal. In many ways. If I was a human-' The phoenix met with a mental image of a dressed chicken hanging upside-down above a pot with boiling water.
'You wouldn't-'
But Harry's resolution was firm. If Fawkes hurt Ginny in any way, he would become a soup. And the same fate would await him if he tried to lure her away from Harry.
"Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore spoke for the first time and he virtually radiated geniality. The boy felt goose-bumps springing on his skin, but wouldn't let the ghost know. He feigned a deeply interested expression.
"Good morning, sir. Give me a minute, please." And he turned back to Fawkes.
'Nice acting, fledgling, but I would distinctly prefer if you at least tried to get on with the 'new Albus'.'
He shook his head.
'Don't change the subject. This is important to me. Why Ginny?'
A pair of brown eyes watched him as he stood facing the bird, as though knowing they were speaking about her.
'This might sound cruel. I don't like telling you, but I have promised not to keep information from you. Just don't pluck me.'
'The conditions stand. You hurt Ginny, I hurt you.'
Fawkes leapt off his perch and glided down on Ginny's lap. The girl giggled and put her arms around the phoenix, disregarding the scowl Harry was giving it. Not that he was jealous. No.
'I see that knights didn't die out. Very well, young man, you shall have your answers now that I am safe from your wrath. Miss Weasley is good in listening and has a sharp mind – a mind that had been repeatedly broken into and taken over in the past. It made it easier for anybody to control Miss Weasley now.'
Harry once again felt the pull of his body wanting to morph as his temper rose. He considered letting it, just to make an effect, but then thought it might make him seem unable to control and that would be contraproductive at the moment.
"So you control her, do you," he drawled dangerously, letting his vocal chords become what they so desperately yearned to be.
'No, don't get me wrong.'
"I am doing this willingly," Ginny spoke and smiled at both of them – the phoenix and the boy. "Harry, you know that I can't just sit home and do nothing while you are out somewhere, training, or risking your life… I had to at least feel like I am doing something. And being Fawkes's translator is one of those things that won't get me in danger, but still make me a part of the fight…"
He sighed. What she said had a point and he was glad that she had found something to do that wouldn't get her injured, but having her mind invaded just because it was easy to do so-
"Look, Harry, I knew what I was getting myself into from the beginning. In fact it was me who came with the suggestion, neither Fawkes nor Professor Dubledore asked me. So don't be mad."
He sighed again, sitting down on the arm of her chair.
'Is she… 'in trance' or does she also listen?'
"I know everything that is going on while talking for Fawkes, Harry. He offered to make me not percieve, but-"
"You wouldn't have it," he inserted. Of course. He wouldn't expect anything else from her, yet that didn't mean he agreed with it. He was careful to shield the next thought from her.
'She is too young for this. You're making her indirectly witness the worst that is happening in the country and-'
'Her mind is not a bit younger than yours, Harry. And you know of those things, too. Mostly.'
'Yeah, when I'm part of them.' He gave up. It had been a fight against windmills and now he realised it. He had no right to forbid Ginny voicing Fawkes's thoughts and he wouldn't even try it; his respect for her prevented him from attempting to not let her decide for herself. And he was rather if she stayed in Grimmauld Place than if she were to do something outside.
"If he's obnoxious, don't hesitate to call for me," he said under his breath.
"What do you think you could do?" she asked with an amused smile. Obviously, she had come to truly know the phoenix.
"We'll see," he replied mysteriously, making both Ginny and Fawkes burst in laughter, while feeling a wave of coldness from behind him; from the place where Dumbledore resided.
'Thank you, Ginevra. I will call if we need you again,' the phoenix acknowledged and lifted itself from her knee. She stood up, mockingly curtsied to the bird, nodded to Dumbledore and quickly hugged Harry, before leaving the room.
As soon as the door was shut there was a change in the amosphere.
"So, Harry, do I have your attention now?" Dumbedore asked as genially as ever. The insincerity made the boy almost physically sick. Fawkes gave him a worried look, but, thanks to the phoenix's coaching, Harry managed to mask those feelings.
"Of course, sir."
"I see that you have thought about what I have told you. Do you think we can talk calmly about it now?" Dumbledore's smile screamed 'I know something you don't and it makes me feel superior'. Harry smiled back, although it wasn't easy.
"Certainly, sir."
"Outstanding! I remember we were talking about Severus… I do not doubt that you still refuse to colleague with him. Can you tell me the reason?" Harry's face remained impassive while he thought of the long list of reasons. Fawkes moved closer to him to help him keep his cool and not enrage Dumbledore again. After a while he found something that sounded usably.
"I don't trust him, sir. He never gave me a reason to."
"Harry, do you trust me?"
There was a while of silence. In the past, he would have answered instantly, without hesitation, it would be a clear 'yes'. But this being... 'this Dumbledore' was different from the Dumbledore he used to know. And though Harry understood the reasons, his mind wasn't able to merge the two personalities. He was likely the only one with this problem, but maybe it served to his benefit - he wouldn't expect the ghost to respond like the man would have responded.
The ex-Headmaster gasped with realisation and levelled his sorrowful gaze at Harry.
"I see," he said quietly. He was disappointed and perhaps desperate... after the 'Dumbledore's man through and through' confession such reaction was understandable.
"Very well, Harry. Then I shall persuade you."
Fawkes screeched and glared at the ghost.
'Tell him that won't be necessary.'
He took a deep breath. It wasn't as if Dumbledore could hurt him. Much.
"Fawkes says that it will not be necessary, sir." He waited anxiously for the response. The ghost looked at him, at Fawkes, at him again, and finally glided over to an open tome on a faldstool.
"But I think it is. It so happened that a long time ago, a boy that had not been brought up as you were, didn't understand the differences between good and evil as you do, a boy who had no friends and no one to look after him said 'yes' to the only people who seemed to be interested in him. I suppose you can understand such action?" Harry bethought it and found that he didn't understand, so he chose not to respond.
"Well, it took some time, but eventually, seeing the ends of his actions, he realised it was a wrong decision. Unluckily, it was not reversible." Dumbledore sighed. Somehow it did sound genuinely this time. Harry looked quizzically at Fawkes.
'This is a difficult question, fledgling. Try to look at it like this: Albus explained a lot of things about Tom Riddle to you last year. As a personalities, they two were very akin; Albus also didn't make friends. He's a loner, 'a single-player' if you like. He didn't allow himself the luxury to care for another human being, not to speak about love… That is something most powerful wizards have common.' The thought of Ginny crossed Harry's mind – he didn't allow himself the luxury of being with her… To protect her, yes, but nevertheless…
'How does Snape fit into this?'
'Severus is an error in Albus's otherwise perfect emotionlessness. Neither of them ever understood how did it happen, but Albus actually developed feelings. When he realised the mistake it was already too late to correct it-'
"I put him down from the rope…" Dumbledore said quietly, unaware of the soundless conversation. Harry wasn't sure if he meant it utterly of metaphorically, but found out he didn't really want to know. No matter what might have occurred in Snape's past, it wasn't enough to change his view of the man. He was a murderer. He was the reason Harry's parents were dead. And he tried to make Harry's life to Hell, as though it hadn't been bad enough before.
'I wasn't there that night. Both of them are so androit at Occlumency that I never found out what really happened. And Albus was never ingenuous with me since I forbade him to create his own Horcrux.'
'But that's – that's Dark Arts!'
Fawkes nodded. Dumbledore in the back of the Library started humming a quaintly familiar melody. It was terribly sad.
'Yes, the Horcruxes are part of the darkest magic there is and as such they are resistant against attacks of Light. However, it also makes them quite vulnerable to the Dark Arts themselves.'
'But why would he – I mean, I know he's not…not the man he pretended to be, but, for goodness' sake, it's Dumbledore!' Harry stared at the silvery figure, leaning over the tome, his head nodding to the rhythm of his song. Did it look like this when Dumbledore became emotional?
'Oh yes. And it would be very Dumbledoresque(3) to create a Horcrux, trust me. I bet Aberforth's got one or two somewhere, although nobody disappeared around him. I suppose he's very talented at not getting caught.
However, the phoenixes are creatures of Light – we have no means to harm dark objects such as Horcruxes, just as the creatures of Darkness can't harm us.' Harry suddenly remembered the fight in the Chamber of Secrets. Fawkes had attacked the Basilisk head on, unafraid of the killing sight, merely careful to avoid the fangs… Yes, that explained a lot. For example why did the spiders flee – after all, they were also dark creatures, only far less powerful.
'And therefore I need you – my trainees – and I need you skilled in Dark Arts.' Harry started feeling uncomfortable sitting on the hard wood and repositioned himself into the soft plush, abandoned by Ginny.
'What if I didn't want to learn that?'
Fawkes chirped, quietly, as to not disturb Dumbledore's reminiscence.
'You would be the first. Every potentially powerful wizard is naturally attracted to them. To tell the truth, you were the first of my charges unpractised in them at the time I 'fostered' you.'
'So Dumbledore…' Harry didn't complete the question. In the light of the recent events it didn't seem that astounding that the child Dumbledore would be secretly studying Dark Arts.
'Of course. He was a very inquisitive boy – the night I finally fostered him I had found him over a book on Inferi – in his third year! – needless to say I hardly believed my eyes. Fortunately he didn't get further than to practising on mice.' Harry gulped. But better mice than classmates. His imagination presented him with a picture of small auburn-haired boy crouching in the corner of the Gryffindor common room and awoking zombie-rodents.
'How do you choose us, then? I thought you were taking the most – well – most visible wizard in the Defence, or something like that…'
Fawkes chortled, startling Dumbledore into disrupting the song.
'No, Harry. That wouldn't work – look at Tom, it didn't work for him… No, I simply choose the most powerful of the generation and make them fight for Light.'
'You wanted Riddle…' he stated, not really surprised. The phoenix had mentioned it before, though Harry, after seeing those memories of Voldemort's past, couldn't quite imagine the boy being subdued and obedient to a bird.
'Yes, and precious Albus blew it up.'
'How?'
Fawkes sent the ghost a dark look.
'I cannot have two charges at once, as he very well knew. And I couldn't abandon Albus before he defeated Grindelwald. But he had to wait for the end of term, and by the time he was done with it, Tom had escaped my reach.'
'But that was in 1945, wasn't it?' Harry asked, remembering the Chocolate Frog Card.
'Yes. Two weeks after graduation of the seventh-years(4). Fourteen days too late. I told him so. He was being stubborn.'
'Is that an attempt to convince me not to be stubborn? Because if so, then it is failing.' The phoenix hung its head. Harry sighed.
'Look, I'm sorry. But you've said it yourself – I am not like Dumbledore. And the situation is different.'
'But the contrproductive obstinacy is the same.'
'I didn't say a word against him. I didn't demand that he was chucked out of the Order. I accepted your decision and I'll put up with him as my fellow member. But that's it.'
'Give him a chance,' Fawkes pleaded.Sensing the concern in the phoenix's plead hit something inside Harry, but nevertheless, he shook his head.
"I gave him hundereds."
popopopopo
(3) Dumbledoresque – this word was invented by J.K. Rowling. Doesn't belong to me. Just in case.
(4) Check it! Tom Riddle opened the Chamber of Secrets in his fifth year, that was 50 years before the 'Chamber' (1992-1993), that means 1942-43 his seventh year was 1944-45. Lord Voldemort graduated in 1945, the same year as Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald
