Phoenix was almost glad when her first lesson ended. As she pried off her gloves, she noticed how dirt had somehow managed to get under her fingernails. Secretly hoping it would annoy the Malfoy's she decided not to wash her hands.
"What are you going to do before lunch?" Hermione asked, handing Phoenix her bag.
She gladly accepted it. "Not sure." Phoenix shrugged the bag onto her shoulders. Harry walked over, pulling Ron along with him, "I've got to go to Dumbledore's office for lunch to talk with some ministry official." Her heart panged again. Every time she told herself she was dreaming, something happened to remind her how very awake she was. She wanted to go home to all her toys, her bed, her magically warm blankets, all the plants, and her mother. She truly wanted to go home to her mother. Back to Surrey, back to the Dursley's, back to being Phoenix Macdonald.
"You don't think they'll have the press there, do you?" Harry asked, walking alongside Phoenix and Hermione.
"Why would they?" Ron asked, distancing himself as far from Hermione as possible.
"Because whatever Phoenix says to the ministry official could be used to catch," Hermione trailed off and motioned to Phoenix, "her mother-kidnapper."
"And why wouldn't the ministry official just tell them?" Harry asked.
"They probably wouldn't." Ron said, "they'd want to keep it secret, so once they catch her they'll get all the credit."
"She's not some kind of animal." Phoenix wanted to shout, "she's my mother!"
"Which is why," Hermione argued, "I would think the Malfoy's would want the press to be there, so that everyone runs the story to try and find her mother-kidnapper."
"She was just my mother." Phoenix blurted out, following the three back up the staircase, "I mean, she wasn't my real mother, but she raised me, so she's my real mother to me. Just not my real biological mother." She rambled. Her head felt like a box of letter tiles that someone had given a good shake.
"Do you know who she really is?" Hermione asked.
"Who? My mother?" Phoenix asked, "I do," she admitted after looking around. They'd made it to the top of the stairs, "but I'm not telling them that." She added quietly.
"I'm pretty sure that's illegal." Hermione looked at Phoenix with wide eyes.
"But her mother wasn't a bad person." Harry said, "she shouldn't be locked up for raising Phoenix."
"Thank goodness, Harry's on my side." Phoenix wanted to hug him, but refrained from doing so, the aches of her empty stomach were starting to take a toll on her.
"Yeah," Ron nodded, "they should just be thankful she didn't kill you before you turned eleven."
The three turned to look at Ron, "Thanks for that." Phoenix flatly mumbled. She hoisted her bag over her shoulder and adjusted her grip. "Anyways, my mother means the world to me. It was always just her and me, and I liked it like that." Phoenix held her bag, "I'd do anything to go back to that. Well," Phoenix tilted her head from side to side, "I'd do anything to have her as my real mother and still have magic in my life."
"Don't you think maybe that's how she wanted it?" Hermione asked timidly.
"What do you mean?" Phoenix asked, afraid of the answer.
"Do you mean like, her mother wanted Phoenix to love her so she wouldn't rat her out?" Harry asked Hermione who nodded.
"No." Phoenix shook her head firmly, "No. My mother wasn't like that," she saw Harry nodding in agreement.
Hermione bowed her head respectfully, "Alright. I understand." She nodded, and Phoenix knew that was the end of that.
"But what am I to tell them?" Phoenix looked at the other three. They all looked back at her blankly. What was she to tell them? A lie and risk being outed for lying to the Magical Government? Or the truth and risk her mother being captured and thrown away? "Is there a magic prison?" Phoenix thought dreadfully, "What kind of prison can hold wizards and witches?" She shuddered to think of what horrible things would happen if her mother were caught.
"You could just tell them the opposite of what your mom looked like." Ron suggested.
"But Draco's mom said she'd seen my mother at Diagon Alley." Phoenix shook her head, "I'm sure the Ministry official will have already spoken to her." Phoenix tried to remember all Mrs. Malfoy had said about her mother.
"Just tell the truth." Hermione said, she gripped her own bag tightly, "and hope they don't find her."
Phoenix sighed, it felt as though two daggers were digging into the front of her skull. She wouldn't put her mother at risk, but she also saw no way to lie her mother out of the situation. The four had somehow gotten back to the Gryffindor tower without getting lost or turned around, and Phoenix asked for Hermione to wake her when it was time for lunch. She waved to Harry and Ron who sat away from Hermione and went into the empty dormitory. Once secured behind her bed curtains, Phoenix took her mother's letter out from under her pillow and carefully opened it.
She read over the words again and again. She wasn't sure if she was looking for answers or a secret message, but she read over the letter until she'd nearly memorized it. Falling back on her pillow, Phoenix allowed the pattern in the canopy to swirl in her vision. This eventually made her dizzy and she fell asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.
She was a spirit hovering over her own body, only this wasn't exactly her. Something was different, she seemed sadder, darker, more broken than she thought. Her body was laying in grass, morning dew wetting her clothes, and freezing her to the bone. Strange trees loomed around her, stretching out on the rolling hills to what seemed like infinity. A chain shot out of the ground and began wrapping itself around Phoenix's body. She struggled to remove the rusty, rattling chain from her seemingly lifeless body. Each time she made a grab for the chain her hands simply passed through, the chain was glowing hot white the further up her body it wound. Once the chain had reached her neck, the Phoenix on the ground arched her back as though in great pain. Her eyes shot open and Phoenix shielded her eyes from the bright light that blossomed from the body's chest.
Phoenix woke with a start, her head pounding as though the skin around her forehead was too tight. She rolled over and held her mother's letter tight, falling back asleep instantly and forgetting her dream. After what felt like blissful hours, but must have only been forty-five minutes, Phoenix woke as someone threw her bed curtains open.
"It's lunch time." Hermione said.
Phoenix rubbed her head, still feeling weak and light headed. "Thank you." Her stomach growled and she hoped Dumbledore had food in his office.
"Will you be alright? I'm sorry about earlier." Hermione said, she cringed, "Sorry, should have said that the other way around."
"That's fine." Phoenix smiled, pushing herself off her bed. "I'll be fine," her stomach protested, "and don't worry about earlier."
"Well," Hermione tried not to look at her whenever her stomach growled, "I'm off to lunch. See you for charms?" Hermione was biting her lip, as if trying not to appear eager.
"Hopefully." Phoenix smiled, happily eager that Hermione actually considered her a friend. Hermione walked to the door with her, Phoenix watched the pattern on the door swirl and she grabbed a bed post to stable herself.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked concerned. "When was the last time you ate?"
"I'll be fine. Dumbledore said he'd have food in his office." Phoenix lied. Hermione didn't seem convinced, but walked out the dormitory anyways. Phoenix took a few deep breaths before pushing herself to follow. Harry offered to walk with Phoenix to Dumbledore's office, but she declined. Instead, Percy walked with her. "Sorry you have to keep doing things because of me." Phoenix apologized as he walked ahead.
"Not at all." Percy only turned his head slightly to talk over his shoulder, "it's my duty as a Prefect to assist."
"Thank you." Phoenix watched his feet as he brisk-walked ahead of her.
"Besides, after my brothers attempted to make a deal with you over your silence to their jokes, and you declined," Percy explained, "I thought helping you find your way to Dumbledore's office," he moved out from the middle of the hall and gestured to the Eagle statue, "would be a small way to repay you."
"Thank you." Phoenix repeated, bowing her head. As she got to the Eagle statue she noticed the stairs were already extended up to Dumbledore's office. "I suppose everyone is up there." She thought, she glanced back down the hall, but Percy was already gone. Phoenix took a breath and started climbing, her head spinning with every turn around the narrow tower. Even though she was by no means out of shape, she was breathing heavily by the time she reached the office door. "Now or never." Phoenix gripped the office handle. She thought about running away, running and running until she found her mother, but before she could turn her feet away her hands were already twisting the doorknob.
When she pushed the door open she expected a thousand things, but not one of those thoughts included a thousand lights blinding her.
"Phoenix, over here!"
"Look here, Phoenix!" and a dozen other calls and flashes went off around her. Phoenix blinked in shock and nearly fell back out of the room and down the staircase.
"Enough." A loud, strong voice boomed over the crowd. Phoenix blinked the spots out of her eyes. Around twenty or so cameras were floating by reporters, who all had some form of quill and paper with them. Phoenix teetered on her legs, her stomach was empty, her mouth was dry, and she wanted to fall over and go to sleep again. A tall, dark skinned man, with broad shoulders strode towards her. Phoenix blinked wearily at him at him, he squatted down low and Phoenix could see a single gold hoop running through one of his ear lobes. "How are you doing today, Phoenix?" he asked. His deep voice was oddly comforting, there was a slight accent to it, and Phoenix found herself becoming aware of everything around her.
"Hungry." She admitted honestly.
The man smiled kindly and held out his hand, "Would you like to sit down?" he asked. Phoenix glanced at all the reporters who were straining to hear her response. She nodded and accepted his hand. The man led her past the reporters back to where Dumbledore's desk was. Today there were four seats facing Dumbledore's desk, three were already occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy and Draco. The man motioned for Phoenix to take the empty seat, and the man pulled up a fifth chair for himself. Dumbledore was behind his desk, watching everyone in the office with a cold silence. Draco had a small try of food on his lap, which he was picking and making faces at. "Here you go." The man handed Phoenix a similar tray.
Mashed potatoes, ham, broccoli, a roll, and a scoop of chocolate pudding. Even though the site of food still made her queasy, Phoenix gobbled down every bite. The cameras had since moved to either side of Phoenix and the Malfoy's as they ate. Reporters were trying to ask her questions, sometimes she'd ignore them, other times Dumbledore or the man would tell them to leave her alone. After she'd cleaned every last crumb and scrap off her tray, Phoenix sat back. Her stomach was crying at the sudden rush of food, but she didn't care. She wasn't nearly as dizzy as she had been, and the cold sweat running down her back had stopped.
"Feeling better?" The man asked, Phoenix nodded. The man smiled for a moment before looking at her seriously, "Phoenix Malfoy, my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. I am an Auror at the Ministry for Magic. I just need to ask you some questions, is that alright?"
Phoenix could almost feel the quills of the reporters pressing to their paper, ready to write. "Alright." Phoenix nodded in agreement. She could hear Mrs. Malfoy give out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you." Kingsley smiled, he grabbed his chair and scooted closer, "Do you know the real identity of your kidnapper?"
"No." Phoenix said almost immediately. Kingsley raised an eyebrow at her, but wrote down what she'd said anyways. The reporters, she could hear, were busily scribbling away behind her.
"Did they ever give any indication to you that you were kidnapped?" Phoenix shook her head. Kingsley seemed to believe that and wrote that down as well, "Was your kidnapper a man or woman?"
"Woman." Mrs. Malfoy answered, Kingsley and Phoenix looked at her.
"With all due respect, Mrs. Malfoy, I have to ask Phoenix these questions." Kingsley said as gently as he could.
"Of course." Mrs. Malfoy said.
"Even though we told you all we could from seeing her at Diagon Alley." Mr. Malfoy scoffed, he was lounging back casually in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his arms resting on the arms of the chair.
"Phoenix lived with this person for ten years, I'm sure she's very aware of how our kidnapper looks." Kingsley argued, his bitter smile turned genuine as he turned back to Phoenix, she faced him. Eager to get her interview over with. "Man or woman?" Kingsley asked again.
"Woman." Phoenix answered honestly. "Why isn't Dumbledore saying anything?" she thought while trying not to look at the Headmaster for too long. "He came to my house. He knows who I am."
"Do you think you could remember how tall she was?" Kingsley asked.
Phoenix shook her head, "I," she looked around for something to compare her height to, "I reached her elbow," Kingsley quickly scribbled that down, "I think!" Phoenix added, he just nodded and kept writing. A few flashes went off behind her.
"Did she have any notable features?" Kingsley asked.
Phoenix pretended to be deep in thought, "She had a mark on her hand," Phoenix lied, holding up her own, "like this," she traced her finger to make short and long scratches on the back of her hand.
"Like she'd been in a duel?" Kingsley asked.
"A duel?" Phoenix asked, "like old knights used to do?"
Kingsley paused scribbling, some reporters were whispering behind them. Dumbledore glanced at them. "Phoenix, did your kidnapper ever tell you about our world?" Kingsley looked at her, a mix of concern and confusion in his eyes.
"Not until this past summer." Phoenix squirmed in her seat. "There must be a reason he is staying quiet. I need to know why." She thought, looking at Dumbledore.
Kingsley looked like he wanted to pursue the matter more but stopped himself, "Where were you last living?"
"I don't know." Phoenix lied quickly. "We moved around so much, I never really kept track of where we were." She looked at Kingsley as he wrote her answer down, hoping with every fiber in her body that he believed her. "And she never wanted me to know. Said we'd move again soon anyways so there was no point in me knowing."
"So, you were never interested in where you were living?" She shook her head, "And you have no idea why you were held captive for so long?" She shook her head again. "Alright." Kingsley smiled and held his hand out again, "I'm sure I'll be talking to you again, soon, Miss Phoenix." Phoenix took his hand and gave it a shake. Kingsley looked her over one last time before letting go of her hand and looking at Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. "We've got your description of her, and with the scars Phoenix told us about we'll have a full description of her sent out to wizarding governments around the world."
"The world?" Mrs. Malfoy questioned.
"Phoenix says they moved around a lot." Kingsley nodded towards Phoenix, who shrank back in her seat, "who is to say she won't try to get as far away from her crime as possible?"
"Mom would never go so far away." Phoenix thought, gripping the sleeves of her school robe.
"As it is, I don't believe our kidnapper is dangerous." Kingsley added.
"Don't think she's," Mr. Malfoy stood up, cameras flashed off behind them. Phoenix glanced at Draco and Mrs. Malfoy who were both looking at the floor, "she kidnapped my daughter and held her captive for ten years!" He hissed through his teeth.
Phoenix glanced at Kingsley. Her heart was pounding so wildly she was afraid everyone could see it through her clothes. Kingsley took a deep breath, "Your daughter seems to be in perfect health. Not underfed, not overfed. Over exposed to elements or under exposed. And if your testaments about seeing them in Diagon Alley were true," Kingsley paused, "I'd say our kidnapper raised Phoenix as her own child."
Mrs. Malfoy scoffed, Phoenix looked at her, tears were brimming from her eyes. She covered her mouth with a handkerchief, "The nerve." She managed to bemoan.
"And who is to say there aren't deeper issues?" Mr. Malfoy accused Kingsley.
"If I may say," Dumbledore held a hand up as he stood from his desk. More camera's flashed. "If you would like we could send young Miss Malfoy to our healer, Madam Pomfrey, to give her a clean 'bill of health' as the muggles say." Dumbledore smiled coyly.
Phoenix looked at Mr. Malfoy. His jaw was set, and he looked like he wanted to say more, he raised a gloved hand, finger pointed out accusingly, and shook it for a moment. Mrs. Malfoy spoke up before anything else could be said, "We would like that very much, Headmaster." She said coolly, having fully recovered from her tearful outburst earlier.
"But first," Dumbledore smiled, "I think the press is wishing for a few photos of the happily reunited family." Phoenix's heart sank and shattered. She didn't want to be photographed with these people.
"What if mom sees the picture and thinks I didn't read her note and hate her?" Phoenix thought, as Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy stood on either side of her chair and gently pulled her to her feet. "Or what if she sees it and thinks I want to be a Malfoy?" A thousand horrible thoughts crossed her mind.
Phoenix stood still, gripping the sleeves of her robe, as dozens of cameras took pictures of her and the Malfoy's. A few asked for pictures of just her and Draco, or of her and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, or of just her, or her and Mr. Malfoy, her and Mrs. Malfoy, and every other combination of her and the Malfoy's there could have possibly been. Then the cameras took pictures of Kingsley, then Kingsley and Dumbledore, Kingsley and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, and by the time the cameras had stopped Phoenix feared she'd nearly gone blind from all the camera flashes.
Reporters began clamoring for answers, sometimes raising their hand for attention, other times blurting something out in response to someone else or an answer the Malfoy's had given. Phoenix's stomach was starting to hurt from wolfing down her food after going over a day without eating. She felt warm and woozy, she stared absentmindedly out one of the high windows in Dumbledore's office. Sunlight lazily beamed inside, but Phoenix could see the shade from clouds passing overhead.
"Mr. Malfoy, Daily Bayou," A reporter held up a hand, "When did you first learn your daughter was at Hogwarts?" Phoenix looked up at Mr. Malfoy, a few more cameras went off. Every move she made attracted their attention.
"After she'd been sorted. We," Mr. Malfoy motioned to Mrs. Malfoy, "were already at Hogwarts, waiting to hear if she'd arrived or not."
"You didn't know if she'd received her letter?" Another reporter asked, the back of their note pad said "Enchanted City Paper".
"We'd heard," Mrs. Malfoy said slowly, "but weren't sure if her kidnapper would let her actually come to school."
Several reporters shouted for the attention of Mr. or Mrs. Malfoy. Phoenix looked at the wall of reporters, wondering if she'd ever be able to make a break through them. "Jade Mountain Report. For young Draco," a reporter said, grabbing Phoenix's attention, "how do you feel having your sister back?"
Everyone was posed on their toes, waiting for Draco to answer. Draco, who'd been silently sneering and seething the whole time suddenly glared at the reporter who asked him the question. Phoenix tried not to glance at Draco, or at least, she was trying not to make it obvious that she was glancing at him. "I think," Draco paused, Phoenix looked at Mr. Malfoy who had laid his hand on Draco's shoulder, "I need to get to know her." A couple reporters smiled.
"They believed that?" Phoenix thought bewildered. "Anyone with eyes can see he hates me."
"Young Phoenix," Another reporter called for attention, "The 51 Scoop. How does it feel to be reunited with your family?"
Phoenix paused. Her idea of family was her and her mother, and the family she never knew. These people, the Malfoy's, were not her family. "I'm not sure." She blurted out.
The Daily Bayou reporter held his hand up again, "What are your plans now?"
"Now?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, she wrapped her arms loosely around Phoenix, pulling her closer. The hair on her neck stood on end, her skin crawled, and she wanted to disappear into smoke. She wanted to shout and throw a fit, emotions swirled around her making her feel sick.
"Now that Phoenix is home." The Daily Bayou reporter clarified.
"We plan on catching her kidnapper." Mr. Malfoy answered, "and holding her accountable for her crimes, and the heartache, pain, and loss she has given our family."
"But," The Jade Mountain Report reporter spoke up, "what's the next step for you four as a family? Though I do not doubt the swiftness of your Auror's," she nodded politely to Kingsley who waved her off with no offence, "it may take a while for her kidnapper to be caught."
"Yes," Phoenix thought, "good."
"Well," Mrs. Malfoy held Phoenix tighter.
"Please let this end." Phoenix thought.
"We plan on having the children home for the Christmas holiday." Mrs. Malfoy answered, "We hope to help Phoenix adjust to our home, and will be keeping open communication with them and the school to make sure they're both handling the news of this well."
"Please, please, please," Phoenix closed her eyes and rolled them back, "let this end." She took a breath.
"Don't you fear that her kidnapper may be waiting to take her again? Or try to write her?" The 51 Scoop reporter asked.
Kingsley answered this question, "We will be monitoring any letters coming to the school, any addressed to Phoenix will be inspected before being delivered to her."
"Is that not an invasion of privacy?" The Daily Bayou reported squinted his eyes at them.
"This is for Phoenix's safety." Kingsley clarified, "and for peace of mind for the Malfoy's." Kingsley turned to them, "I think the children have been questioned enough?" he looked at Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy who nodded in agreement. Kingsley turned back to Dumbledore, "Thank you, headmaster." The reporters, while visibly upset at their scoop being cut short, slowly gathered their belongings and marched out of the office. A few bent their heads together and discussed things in secret, while others openly talked about how there was little hope for the case.
"Good." Phoenix thought watching them leave, "I don't want them to catch mom, I will do everything to keep her safe."
"It seems you have time before your next class, young Miss Malfoy," Dumbledore said, sitting back down once the last reporter had gone, "I'm sure your family would love to have your health examined."
"Thank you, Headmaster." Mrs. Malfoy smiled tensely.
"Fit as a fiddle." The Healer, Madam Pomfrey, backed away from Phoenix looking somewhere between mildly disappointed and surprisingly pleased. Madam Pomfrey turned to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, "Whoever was taking care of her did a good job. Count your blessings." Then, nonchalantly she waved them off, "Now if you're done," was all she said before walking back to a little side office.
Mrs. Malfoy harshly whispered something to Mr. Malfoy and they shared a look Phoenix couldn't decipher. "Can I go now?" Draco asked impatiently.
"Don't be so snide, Draco." Mr. Malfoy slapped him upside the head. Phoenix's eyes widened in shock, but to her surprise Draco did nothing in retaliation except wince and rub his head where Mr. Malfoy had thumped him with his walking cane.
Mrs. Malfoy took a breath, absentmindedly pushing Draco's hand away from his head and brushing his slicked hair back down. She smiled at Phoenix, "Well thank goodness you're alright." She held out her hand. Phoenix looked at it as though it were a snake ready to strike, she stood without accepting her hand. Mrs. Malfoy grabbed for hers anyway. As a group the four walked to the doors to the Hospital Wing, "Phoenix, we will write you every day," she said, looking down at her, "Please try to write back. We just want all of this behind us," she looked to Mr. Malfoy who nodded in agreement, "so we can finally be a family."
Phoenix's jaw felt as though it'd been glued shut. No matter how much she wanted to cry, scream, protest, and throw a fit, she couldn't find the energy in her to move her jaw. "Do look after your sister, Draco." Mr. Malfoy ordered in the politest way possible.
Draco scowled at Phoenix, who suddenly found her jaw unlatching itself, "No, it's fine. I don't need him to do that." She blurted out.
"We need him to do that," Mrs. Malfoy clarified, "People will undoubtedly see the paper with our pictures and interviews tomorrow. You two need to look after each other." Mrs. Malfoy had somehow pushed Phoenix and Draco shoulder to shoulder. They shared a look, Draco's of disgust, Phoenix's of horror. When Mr. Malfoy opened the door, a cold breeze blew in from the corridor.
Phoenix quickly looked away from the Malfoy's. In reality she felt as though she was a stranger in their family. What did she have in common with these people besides blood? There was no history, no family moments, no bonding. "Not like what I have with mom." Phoenix thought, another wave of homesickness hitting her. "No more baking Christmas sweets. No more Bertie Botts guessing games. No more," her skin crawled as Mrs. Malfoy bent down to hug her, "anything." Her heart dropped.
Phoenix would later change the subject if this were brought up, but she very weakly, and pathetically wrapped her arms around Mrs. Malfoy in return. Once she'd let go, Mr. Malfoy just nodded and held out his arm to his wife. Phoenix held back tears until they'd walked away.
"Are you crying?" Draco demanded.
"What of it?" Phoenix tried to hurriedly wipe her eyes on the back of her sleeves. She sniffled.
Draco scoffed, "You're weak."
"I just lost my entire life!" Phoenix shouted at him, Draco looked at her in surprise, clearly not used to someone raising their voice at him. "Do you think I wanted this?" She asked him, "Do you think I asked for my whole life to be ripped out from under me and to be stuck with you people?" she spat through her tears. "No. All you care about is your own spoiled, selfish, stupid self!" She thought back to the day she pummeled Dudley in the classroom and thought about how easy it'd be to tackle him to the ground.
"Tackle him and bash his head on the stone floor." A voice said in the back of her head. Phoenix lowered the finger she'd been pointing accusingly at Draco. Through her tears she could tell he was still in shock from her outburst. Of course he was, the entire time he'd known her she'd said hardly more than ten words at a time. Now, she was suddenly screaming at him. Phoenix turned on her heel and marched off in a random direction. She didn't know why that dark thought had popped up in her mind, but she was glad it had taken her to a screeching halt. She couldn't imagine what the repercussions of beating a student's head into the floor would be, and she didn't want to find out.
"There you are!" A voice shouted, Phoenix jumped out of her skin, a scream on her lips, until she noticed Hermione was standing next to her.
"Hermione!" Phoenix wrapped her robe around herself, as if trying to disappear, "Why are you shouting?"
"We're going to be late for Charms, come on!" Hermione shouted with frustration. She grabbed Phoenix's arm and ran down the hall. Phoenix eventually caught her own footing and Hermione let go of her. Phoenix stayed behind Hermione, letting her lead the way. They got to class as the door to the classroom opened.
"Come in! Come in! Don't be shy!" A voice called from the door. Hermione and Phoenix were at the back of a crowd that was gathered outside the door, but they shuffled close together, everyone squeezing into the classroom. There was a small, narrow hall that ended in a row of elevated benches and desks. Off to either side of the hall was a set of stairs that led to even more elevated benches and desks. Several piles and towers of books sat in the middle of the room. At the front of the half circle room was a black podium with even more books piled around it. A single tall window sat behind the podium and gave a view out into one of the courtyards. Phoenix pulled Hermione to the right of the room, taking the two seats next to Ron on the second tier. Harry, Seamus and Dean sat down on the tier below them. "Yes, yes! Sit down, sit down." Books flew overhead and a few people gave shocked shrieks, "Don't worry," a cheery voice from the front of the class laughed, "None of the books will bite."
Phoenix watched in awe as books arranged and rearranged themselves. A quill, like the magical ones Phoenix had seen in Dumbledore's office, appeared to be turning around the room and would jump and mark something on a piece of parchment. "There we are," A very short man plopped himself down on a stack of books behind the podium. "Good afternoon, class." The man squinted through his big round glasses. He looked back at the quill which was now dancing with an inkwell. "Stop that you two." The professor snapped. Phoenix laughed softly as the quill and inkwell whizzed into the professor's hands.
"Sorry." Their professor smiled. "My name is Professor Flitwick. Now, if you wouldn't mind pulling out your wands."