As threatened, or promised, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy sent Phoenix letters. The owls startled nearly every first year as they screeched and swooped low to drop off letters and packages, or pick up their owner's breakfast without them even noticing. For Phoenix, the letters came from a large, grumpy looking eagle owl. Phoenix didn't respond to any letters they sent her. Instead, she watched the ceiling for an out of place owl and a letter from her mother.
"Not my real mother," Phoenix had to correct herself, munching on a roll before the family owl dropped off a letter. "Not my family owl," Phoenix let the owl fly around and grab some chicken off her plate, "just the Malfoy's owl." She told herself.
"Shouldn't you write them back?" Ron asked.
"No." Phoenix gave him a long stare, "I don't know these people. I don't want to know these people," she looked at Hermione who opened her mouth to comment. "What's on the schedule for today?" She changed the subject.
"Double potions." Ron griped, "with the Slytherins."
"Fantastic." Phoenix sighed, "class with my brother." She grumbled mockingly, "What could go wrong?" she stabbed her lunch vigorously.
"It's already dead." Harry looked at her with concern. Phoenix left her fork stabbed into her chicken breast, crossed her arms on the table, and laid her head down on her arms. Harry leaned over, "have you heard from your mom?" he whispered.
"My real one? Yes, every day. And I ignore her. Every day." Phoenix glanced at him from her spot in her arms. "Have I heard from the woman I thought was my mom? No." Phoenix shook her head slightly. It made her feel sick thinking about her mother out on the run. She was a wanted criminal after all. It's not like the snobbish people of Privet Drive would let her stay.
"She's okay." Harry said. He seemed to know just what to say to calm her down. The whole first week had been a train wreck, Slytherins hissed at her, most Gryffindors turned away from her, even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs kept their distance when she walked by in the corridors. But, then again, she stuck by Harry's side, and most people were more interested in whispering about him than pointing at her. In reality, Phoenix was grateful to have Harry at her side, he was all she had from her old life. He stuck with her even though that meant people giving them odd or nasty looks.
After lunch, the Gryffindors stubbornly walked down to the dungeons with the Slytherins. The classroom was empty when they all came upon it, and so it was first come first serve for seats. Slytherins stuck to the front of the classroom, while Gryffindors stayed in the back. Ron, Phoenix, Harry, and Hermione sat close to the Slytherins-not wanting to be stuck in the back or on the sides of the classroom should their professor be the type to wander around and breathe down people's necks as they worked.
Everyone was chatting idly as they waited for the professor to show up. "I hear Snape, the professor," Ron whispered to them, "favors the Slytherins. He's their head of house."
"I wish McGonagall favored us." Harry mumbled.
"I wish everyone would be fair." Hermione said, and Phoenix nodded in agreement.
Ron scoffed and turned away, "why do you even sit with us?" she could have sworn she heard Ron mumble under his breath. Before she could turn to ask what Ron had said the door behind them was nearly blasted off its hinges. Everyone fell silent instantly.
"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class." A man with a billowing black cloak, and equally black-though not as billowing-hair stormed to the front of the room. He turned and Phoenix watched as he scanned the room. "As such," he leaned one elbow on his elevated desk and clasped his hands together, "I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and precise art that is potion making. However, for those select few," He didn't bother to hide the fact that he looked at each of the Slytherins, "who possess the predisposition," he trailed off.
"This is Snape?" Phoenix wanted to turn to Ron, but her attention was glued to the professor.
He took his cloak in either hand and wrapped himself up like a bat, "I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper on death." Next to her, Harry was fervently scribbling down everything Snape was saying. "Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable," Phoenix noticed how Snape was glowering down at Harry, who remained oblivious and continued scribbling everything Snape said down in a notebook. "That you feel confident enough," she tried to nudge him, but he didn't look up, "to not pay attention." Snape seethed through his teeth.
On Harry's other side Hermione gave him a solid jab with her elbow. Harry looked at her, she nodded to Snape. Harry quickly put his quill in his inkwell and copied Hermione's perfect posture. "Mr. Potter." Snape seemed genuinely surprised for a moment, "Our new celebrity." He said slowly.
Phoenix could feel the frost growing under her nails. This was not a man to be messed with, nor a professor to be crossed if Gryffindor wanted any chance to win the House Cup. "Tell me, what would I get," Snape had moved away from his desk and was walking towards a pillar in the middle of the classroom, "If I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hermione's hand shot into the air. Phoenix tried to think back on the magic room in her house in Surrey. A huge cauldron that always seemed to be lit and in use whenever she peeked in jogged her memory a little, but it was more on what her not-real-mother had said about her old potions professor, and this was certainly not the same man.
"I don't know, sir." Harry said quietly. Draco and his friends at the front were turned around to watch, and didn't bother to stifle their snickers.
"You don't know?" Snape repeated, "well let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"
Phoenix knew that, and her hand shot up in the air along with Hermione's. She tried to hide her frost covered fingertips by wrapping them in the ends of her sleeve. "I don't know, sir." Harry repeated.
"And what is the difference," Hermione and Phoenix lowered their hands, "between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asked between his teeth. Hermione's hand shot back into the air.
Harry shook his head, "I-I don't know, sir." He admitted.
"Pity." Snape whispered, "clearly fame isn't everything. Is it, Potter?"
"Clearly Hermione knows." Harry snapped back. The giggles from the Slytherins stopped and now it was the Gryffindors turn to giggle. "Seems a pity not to ask her."
"Silence." Snape drawled at the giggling Gryffindors. For a moment, the room was silent-save for the bubbling of the cauldrons on every table. Phoenix held her breath as Harry and Snape stared each other down. Suddenly, Snape moved away from the front of the room and made his way between the aisles to stand in front of Harry, "put your hand down, you silly girl." He instructed Hermione, who slowly let her hand fall with her face burning red. Snape pulled an empty stool from the row ahead of them and sat down in front of Harry.
Phoenix gripped her sleeves, her heart pounding in her chest as Snape mimicked Harry's posture. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death." Snape lectured, "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons-most poisons." He reiterated with emphasis. "And monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant." He spoke fast, clearly, and with fury.
"I can see why he's Head of Slytherin." Phoenix thought, crossing and uncrossing her ankles.
"Well?" Snape stood suddenly, the stool scraping back against the stone floor, "Why aren't you all copying this down?" He marched back to the front of the room as Phoenix and everyone scrambled for their quills and ink. "And Gryffindors." Phoenix could feel every red and gold head snap up to look at Snape in shock, "Note that five points will be taken from your house."
"What for?" Harry dared to ask. Phoenix's skin felt as though it'd been pulled tight as she tried to remember everything Snape had said.
"For your cheek, Potter." Snape took out his own quill and began writing something down at his desk. Phoenix could tell potions would be a class she would come to dread. Once Snape had finished writing something down on his desk he flicked his wand and the chalkboard at the front of the class turned over, revealing a set of instructions.
"You will follow these instructions. The potion you are making today will-if brewed properly-cure boils." Snape instructed. No one dared move first, afraid of stepping out of Snape's bounds. "Well?" He snapped at them, "Pair up. Start working."
At home Phoenix would have latched on to Harry, but Ron reached around and tugged Harry's sleeve before Phoenix could properly close her inkwell. Harry shot Phoenix an apologetic look before slipping off his stool to join Ron. Phoenix turned and noticed Hermione was scribbling down Snape's instructions in her notebook. "Care to partner up?" She asked.
Hermione looked up, dazed and confused to have been pulled from her book, she smiled, "Sure."
Phoenix and Hermione double checked every ingredient and instruction for the potion, not wanting any more points taken from Gryffindor. They weighed dried nettles, took turns trying to crush snake fangs while also stewing their horned slugs. Snape walked by, and Phoenix feared he'd criticize them for taking so long. Instead, he glanced in their cauldron as if looking for something horrible to say. He apparently did not find what he was looking for, Snape narrowed his eyes at Phoenix. Potions was going to be the worst class of the term, she could just feel it in her bones.
Phoenix was thankful when the weekend finally arrived. By the end of the first week, people had mostly stopped whispering about her, and instead were focusing solely on Harry Potter. Although, even those whispers and finger pointing had nearly stopped, especially after word had gotten around that Harry didn't remember much of anything about the night his parents were killed.
Even if people had been whispering, Phoenix was hardly concerned with them. Instead, at lunch on Saturday, Phoenix was focused on getting her homework done for Snape and McGonagall. There was no way she was putting off Snape's homework, everything had to be perfect because she wasn't going to risk him taking off points for something as stupid as a smudged letter. She also didn't want to disappoint McGonagall after impressing her in their first class. While Hermione was the first to get her match to turn into a needle, and it had come out perfect, Phoenix had managed to turn several matches into needles (although some weren't as shiny or as pointy as Hermione's).
As a matter of fact, Phoenix sat next to Hermione and across from Harry and Ron as they all did their homework in the Great Hall. The two girls compared potions notes, Phoenix stubbornly keeping her notes away from Ron and Harry. There was screeching from above, and hardly anyone jumped at the noise. "Mail's here." Ron said, glancing up at the ceiling.
For the first time since sitting down, Phoenix looked up. Would today bring her a letter from her not-real-mother? Or would she be let down again? "Let down?" Phoenix asked herself, "Why would I be let down? She has to be safe. I want her to be safe before she sends me anything." She thought, watching the owls circle around low to the tables.
An owl dropped off a package for Ron, The Daily Prophet and a stack of letters. "Can I borrow this?" Harry asked, holding up The Daily Prophet. Ron nodded, going through the letters his mother sent looking for the one addressed to him.
"Hey look," Phoenix turned her head, Dean Thomas-another first year Gryffindor-was looking at something Neville held in his hands. It was made of glass, with several circular swirls wrapped around it. A single gold band wrapped around the middle of the glass orb, and was no bigger than the palm of Neville's hand. "Neville's got a Remembrall."
"I've read about those." Hermione looked at the object with wonder, "when the smoke turns red it means you've forgotten something."
Sure enough, as Hermione spoke the grey smoke inside slowly turned to a deep shade of red. "The only problem is," Neville said, turning the ball over in his hand, "I can't remember what I've forgotten." Everyone around him laughed before turning back to their own mail.
"Probably why someone sent it to you." Phoenix thought, "to jog your memory." She turned back to her homework as Harry reached across and grabbed her arm. "What?" she asked.
"Somebody broke into Gringotts." Harry looked up from the newspaper at her. He turned the paper sideways, and Phoenix got up on her knees on the bench she was sitting on to see what Harry was pointing at. "Listen, 'believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown, Gringotts goblins, while acknowledging the breach, insist nothing was taken. The vault in question, number seven-one-three, had in fact been emptied earlier that very same day.' That's odd." Harry added, after trailing the words with his finger. He looked up at Phoenix, then Hermione, and Ron, "That's the same vault Hagrid and I went to."
Phoenix sat back down, elbow resting on the table, cheek in her hand. "Whoever told Hagrid to empty it must have known it wasn't safe there."
"Dumbledore told him to." Harry said after they'd pondered her words for a moment. "Hagrid said it was Dumbledore's orders. Top secret."
"So, someone else must have known what was in the vault." Phoenix wondered aloud.
"But who?" Harry asked. She didn't have an answer. Eventually Ron persuaded Harry to let the attempted robbery go, and the four were back to working.
School did not get any easier, and soon Phoenix nearly forgot all about the break-in at Gringotts. Instead, her stomach was churning because of the growing pile of letters from the Malfoy's, the lack of letters from her not-real-mother, and the thought of starting flying lessons that Thursday.
"A little birdie told me," George said one evening, sneaking up on Phoenix and Hermione who were discussing their fears of flying in the Common Room, "that the brooms will go crazy if they sense their riders fear." George had kept the Little Birdie nickname, and so the use of it made him easily identifiable.
"I've heard," Fred came up on the other side of the girls, "some brooms are so broken, they only fly in circles."
"I don't like flying." Phoenix whined, "I don't like heights."
"Really?" George asked, holding up one of Phoenix's shaking hands.
"Would have never guessed." Fred teased, Phoenix yanked her hand back.
"How can someone feel safe on a stick of wood?" She asked.
George shrugged, "Easy." Was all he said.
"We're not scared." Fred laughed and George joined him.
Hermione huffed and pulled at Phoenix's sleeve, "Let's continue our conversation in private." She pulled Phoenix off to the girl's dormitory where they guiltily read every flying and broom book and manual ever made. Ron tried to reassure Phoenix and Hermione that the brooms the school had weren't so bad.
"And how do you know?" Hermione demanded.
"Because they told me the brooms vibrate or fly slightly to the left as a way to scare me." Ron explained, "and if they did that to scare me, they told you what they did to scare you." He chuckled to himself, "bunch of scaredy-cats."
Phoenix didn't argue with him.
She tried not to dream of getting stuck on a broom in the clouds.
Memories from when she was younger flashed in her head every time she closed her eyes. She'd finally convinced her mother to let her out of her sights. She begged and begged to go on the Ferris Wheel at a fair the town they'd been living in was hosting. Then, once she was at the top, the wind in her hair, the lights below twinkling like stars reflected on a dark lake, the moon just out of her grasp-the engine below gave a shudder and a shriek. Her little car banged to a stop and swung on its two small hinges. Phoenix remembered hearing other people exclaim in shock and fear, and for a moment she was absolutely still. A voice boomed out of the speaker that was once playing music and was strapped to the supports by its wires. It told everyone to remain calm and that the power source the engine had been connected to had been tampered with, they were warned not to rock their seats, and told they'd be moving in no less than five minutes.
The thrill of flying had been snatched from her as horrible, thick, dark storm clouds blocked out the already inky dark sky. Phoenix had cried and cried as rain pricked at her skin and made the old Ferris Wheel groan. In the end, an emergency rescue crew had to be called as the Fair owners didn't want to risk turning on the electricity in the storm. Phoenix was scooped up in the arms of a stranger and carried back down to her hysteric mother.
"Mom, I miss you so much." Phoenix thought fondly of clutching her mother whenever things got scary. She doodled on the edge of her notes, ignoring McGonagall as she went over the differences of pin needles and regular needles to Neville.
At three-thirty, despite all her best attempts to get out of flying, Harry dragged Phoenix out to the grounds. Some Slytherins were already there, and clumped in a small group together. Phoenix stayed with the Gryffindors, each of them expressing their worry or excitement about flying. Ron went on and on about how he and his brothers played on brooms during the summer, and Seamus spoke of how his childhood was mostly spent zooming around the countryside on his broom. Other's, like Parvati Patil, voiced how she didn't want to imagine what would happen if someone had an itch while riding. And Hermione whispered to Phoenix her own fears of flying.
"It's fascinating, of course." Hermione said, "But who knows how flimsy they may be, and since these are school brooms there's no telling how well kept they are. They could have splinters, or hexes on them, or any number of things."
"You're really not helping, Hermione." Phoenix moaned, eyeing the inanimate brooms on the ground. Whispers traveled the crowd, and heads began to turn towards the castle. Phoenix watched as a witch with wild grey hair came marching from the castle, adjusting her leather gloves to reach her elbows. Phoenix wasn't sure why, but everyone stood behind a broom and she joined them.
"Good afternoon, class." The Professor said. Phoenix watched her golden, hawk-like eyes sweep the students.
"Good afternoon, Madam Hooch." They all echoed back. Phoenix watched her walk between the brooms and stand at the end of the two rows.
"Welcome to your first flying lesson." She placed her hands firmly on her hips, "now I want everyone to step up on the right side of their broomstick." Phoenix waited until Hermione and Harry had stepped beside theirs before she figured out which broom was hers and stepped up to the right of it. "Hold your right hand over your broomstick." Again, Phoenix moved her hand with the crowd, "and say 'up'."
"That's all?" Phoenix thought to herself.
"Up!" Everyone cried out at once. Some, like Harry, got their broom to come to them on their first try. Phoenix's broom barely gave a twitch.
"Whoa!" Harry exclaimed, Phoenix could see the broom trembling in his hand as if excited and ready for take-off.
Phoenix inadvertently glanced at Draco, who also got his broom up on his first try. Not wanted to be bested, Phoenix glowered at her broomstick. "Up!" She commanded as Madam Hooch instructed them to keep trying 'with feeling'. The broom on the ground shot up and smacked her palm, Phoenix didn't have to think twice as her hand automatically gripped the stick to keep it from falling inanimate again. She could see Hermione look at her, and she turned to beam back at her. Hermione huffed and turned back to her own broom, which was twitching and bouncing just a few inches off the ground.
Looking down the Gryffindor line, as they'd purposefully separated into Slytherins and Gryffindors, Phoenix saw Ron's broom laying dormant. If Phoenix didn't know any better, she'd say it was just a silly old broom with nothing magical to it placed there to prank poor Ron. Just then, Ron gave an exasperated, "Up!" and the broom flew up as if on a hinge and whacked Ron in his forehead. Behind her, Seamus and Dean roared with laughter, and Phoenix and Harry both snorted and chuckled. Ron rubbed his forehead in embarrassment, but grinned and playfully shoved Harry, "Shut up, Harry."
"Now," The laughter slowly died down and everyone turned to look at Madam Hooch, "you will mount your broom stick." Everyone began to mount their broomstick, and Phoenix followed.
"It's like getting on a bike." Phoenix told herself, but as her foot came down-it came down hard, as if she expected a pedal to be underfoot. She blushed, but after a quick glance, realized a few other people had made the same mistake as well.
"Now when I blow my whistle you will kick off the ground-Hard." Madam Hooch walked between the lines of students. Phoenix gripped her broom tightly, fearful it might shoot out from under her. "You will hover for a moment, and touch back down." Madam Hooch reached the end of the students and turned to face them all once more, "On my mark," she pulled a long, thin whistle out of her robes, "Three. Two. One." Madam Hooch blew into her whistle, but before anyone could get a good kick in Neville began to effortlessly rise.
He rose higher, and higher, "Neville, come back down!" Someone shouted.
"Help!" Neville dragged out the word as his voice got further and further away.
"Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch called, pulling out her wand. Phoenix dismounted her broom, her eyes completely fixated on her flying House mate. All the Gryffindors were shouted for Neville now, but Neville was flying away. "Mr. Longbottom, come back here!" Madam Hooch began to follow him on the ground. Phoenix heard someone scream as Neville dive bombed to the earth. Phoenix felt her insides shiver with anxiety-Neville was going to crash! "Mister-!" But Before Madam Hooch could say anything more, Neville pulled out of his dive and was now rushing at full speed towards them. Phoenix screamed with a few horrified classmates and they all dove out of the way. Heart thumping wildly in her chest Phoenix twisted and turned on the ground, trying to catch a glimpse of Neville.
Neville was now over the castle, whizzing around in figure-eights over the parapets. Draco and the other Slytherins were now howling with laughter. Some pointing and laughing, others doubled-over as if struggling to breathe. Phoenix turned back just as Neville's broom slipped off from under him and his robe caught on the sword of a statue. There was a sickening rip sound as Neville's arms slipped out of his robes. He fell and another bit of stone sticking out from the wall caught his vest. Phoenix stood and wiped the dirt from her hands, watching as Neville's vest quickly ripped and released him. Neville fell with a thud and a crack. Phoenix ran with her House mates, heart beating wildly and expecting the worst as they crowded around Neville.
"Out of my way!" Madam Hooch pushed through the crowd. She scooped Neville up into her arms, cradling him, and checking his body for injuries.
"Owowowow," Neville cried as she lifted him, "No! Ow." Neville whimpered when she reached his right arm. Out of the corner of her eye, Phoenix watched Draco bend down and pick something up.
"Oh dear," Madam Hooch tsked as she held his arm. "That's a broken wrist." Phoenix turned back to Neville. Madam Hooch looked up at them, as if just noticing they were all there. "Everyone is to keep their feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing," She hoisted Neville up, still holding his injured arm, "Understand?" she added. Her voice was stern and cold, "If I see a single broomstick in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they could say Quidditch." Her voice got quieter as she marched away with Neville under her arm.
"Did you see the look on his face?" Draco asked once Madam Hooch was out of earshot. Everyone turned to look at him, "maybe if the fat lub had given this a squeeze," Phoenix recognized the item Draco had picked up. It was the Remembrall that Neville's grandmother had sent him, "he would have remembered to fall on his fat arse." Draco teased.
Phoenix reached out to grab Harry as he stepped forward, but her fingers slipped from his robes, "Give it here, Malfoy." Harry ordered.
Draco looked at Harry incredulously, as if he couldn't believe someone dared to order him around, "No, I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find." And without a second hesitation, Draco mounted his broom and flew away from the crowd, "How about on the roof?" He flew between everyone, making some dodge out of the way of being kicked. Phoenix could not believe what a smug bastard she was related to. "What's the matter, Potter?" Draco taunted above them, "Bit beyond your reach?"
"Harry, stop," Phoenix stepped forward as Harry mounted his broom, "you heard what Madam Hooch said. You'll be expelled," she tried to reason with him, but he just glared at Draco in the sky. "And you don't even know how to fly," Phoenix hoped Harry would come to his senses. He wasn't a broom rider, he was Harry. Just Harry. But just Harry kicked off from the ground and was now flying towards Draco.
Phoenix could hear Hermione behind her, "what an idiot."
Phoenix watched Harry rise on his broom to be even with Draco. He wasn't nearly as stable on his broom as Draco. "Harry's going to get expelled and Draco will get away with this." She thought, reminding herself to breathe. "All because Draco knows how to fly on a broom and Harry's never done it before."
"Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!" They could all hear Harry shout.
Draco said something, though due to their height those on the ground couldn't hear it. Whatever it was must have been taunting because Harry lunged forward with his broom, hand outstretched. Draco swung below his broom and pulled himself up on the other side. Phoenix forced herself to take a breath, her lungs struggling to fill with enough air. Suddenly, Draco wound his arm back and threw with as much force as he could muster. The Remembrall glittered as Phoenix watched it fly overhead and out of sight, Harry followed after it.
"He went after it." Phoenix whispered. "Why did he go after it?" She turned to Hermione who looked just as shocked and confused as she did. Phoenix turned back to face the sky where Harry had flown. Not a moment later, Harry came back over the castle. Phoenix could almost feel the anticipation, it tightened her throat and made her tongue dry. Harry held up something that glinted in the sun.
He'd gotten the Remembrall!
Phoenix wasn't sure who cheered or ran first, but they all ran and greeted Harry as he hit the ground running. She couldn't believe he'd actually gotten it! The tightness in her throat unwound, and she jumped and cheered with the other Gryffindors.
"Harry Potter!" A voice shouted over the cheers. Phoenix turned and stood aside. Everyone parted for McGonagall. Their cheers had gone silent. "Follow me." She instructed.
"Seeker?" Phoenix asked, "I don't understand." The three walked out of Defense Against the Darks Arts together. Harry had returned to classes later that Thursday, but wouldn't tell Ron or Phoenix what had happened. It'd taken Phoenix and Ron pestering him the rest of the day Thursday, and most of the morning Friday for Harry to finally tell them that he wasn't expelled, but rather asked to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
"First years never make the House team." Ron couldn't believe it and he was grinning ear to ear. "You must be the youngest Quidditch player in,"
"A Century." Harry and Ron finished together, "According to McGonagall." Harry added. Phoenix had no idea what a seeker did, but Harry must have done something impressive to have gotten McGonagall's praise and attention. Phoenix wondered briefly how Harry had retrieved Neville's Remembrall, and if that had anything to do with him joining the team.
"Well done Harry," One of the Weasley twins popped up on one side of the trio, "Wood's just told us." Harry looked at them both wide eyed. Him joining the team was supposed to be a secret, hence why it'd taken Ron and Phoenix so long to get the secret out.
"Fred and George are on the team, too. Beaters." Ron explained.
"Our job," The other twin stood on the other side of the trio, cramming them together as they walked through the hallway, "is to make sure that you don't get bloodied up too bad." He grinned at his twin, "can't make any promises, of course. Rough game, Quidditch." He elbowed Ron who was closest to him.
"Brutal," The first twin elbowed Phoenix, making Ron and Phoenix bump into Harry on either side, "But no one's died in years." He sounded disappointed. Harry grabbed Phoenix and Ron's robes and pulled them through a door to the courtyard. "Someone will vanish occasionally."
"But they'll turn up in a month or two." The other twin called as they walked away.
"Did you already agree to join the team?" Phoenix asked, Harry nodded, "But you don't know how to fly, or have a broom, or even how to play."
"Don't listen to her, Harry." Ron said, "Quidditch is great. Best game there is. And you'll be great too." He added supportively.
"But I've never even played Quidditch." Harry stopped walking and stood beside Phoenix, silently agreeing with her. Hermione walked over and stood behind Ron, "What if I make a fool of myself?"
"You won't make a fool of yourself." Hermione said gently. Ron jumped and looked at her in shock, "It's in your blood."
Ron raised an eyebrow at her, "What do you mean?"
"Follow me." Hermione nodded towards the castle. She took off running, Phoenix looked at the boys who both shrugged. After a moment they all ran after her. Hermione weaved between people who were spending their free time before supper doing leisurely things. Phoenix was able to keep up with the boys, but her mind was off wondering how Hermione knew about Harry and what was in his blood. They came upon glittering cases of gold trophies and shiny plaques.
Hermione was already standing by a case, grinning with pride. When they got closer she pointed to a plate on a wooden plaque. "Whoa!" Ron looked at the name on the plate. "Harry, you didn't tell me your dad was a seeker too!" Sure enough, there on the plate was the etched name 'James Potter' and above it, 'Seeker'.
"I," Harry breathed, amazed, "didn't know." Harry kept a beam of pride on his face all throughout supper and even had to be reminded when it was time to leave.
"I swear," Ron said climbing the stairs, "she knows more about you than you do." Phoenix looked up at the moving stairs, they were the last four to leave the Great Hall, and would likely be the last to make it to the common room. She'd have to sit in the dormitory if she wanted to get any work done.
"Who doesn't?" Harry asked. Just when he did the stairs swung around. Phoenix hung onto Harry and the banister. "What's happening?" he asked.
"The stairs move," She told him, "remember?" The four stayed low and kept a grip on the banisters as the stairs shuddered to a stop.
"Come on let's get moving." Harry waved the for the three of them to follow him.
"Before the stairs move again." Ron agreed, jumping up past Harry. Harry opened a door and walked into a dark hallway. Ron quickly followed, eager to get away from the stairs. Phoenix peeked in before joining the others, and Hermione was right behind her.
"Does anyone feel like we shouldn't be here?" Phoenix asked. This hallway was cold, and even in the dark Phoenix could see it was covered in cobwebs.
"That's because we're not supposed to be here. This is the third floor. It's forbidden." Hermione said, keeping close to Phoenix, Ron, and Harry. A single torch flicked to life and Phoenix looked at it in horror.
"Let's go." Harry turned around.
A cat gave an ugly meow, stopping the four in their tracks. "It's Filch's cat!" Hermione whispered. Mr. Filch, the old crotchety caretaker of the castle was notorious for wanting to torture students as discipline. Mrs. Norris was his cat who always seemed to be looking for troublemaking students, in this case the four of them. Wherever Mrs. Norris was, Mr. Filch wasn't far behind.
"Run!" Harry grabbed Phoenix's shoulder and turned her the opposite way. Phoenix felt her feet pound hard against the stone floor. Each step lit a new torch down the hallway. "Quick!" Harry had a burst of speed that put him ahead of the group, "let's hide through that door!"
Phoenix felt her body slam against wood as Harry struggled to open it. "It's locked!" Phoenix banged on the wood.
"That's it, we're done for." Ron moaned, looking over his shoulder.
"Oh, move over!" Hermione shoved the three away from the door, "Alohamora!" the lock on the door glowed and the door swung open. The four rushed inside and scrambled to shut it.
"Alohamora?" Ron repeated.
"Standard book of Spells, chapter seven." Hermione breathed. Phoenix put a finger to her lips and pointed at the bottom of the door. A shimmering light shone through the crack under the door, it lingered for a moment. Phoenix could almost feel the heartbeats of the other three as she tried to make her breathing as silent as possible. Eventually, the light went away and a pair of footsteps retreated into oblivion.
"Good thing the door was locked." Ron whispered.
"It was locked." Hermione corrected.
"And with good reason." The three turned to see Harry, standing at the front of the room. Three large dog heads filled the room. One turned its head and sleepily blinked its eyes, the middle head yawned, and the third was already awake and looking straight at them. It rose almost effortlessly, all three heads connected to one body. Six golden eyes focusing on the four tasty treats that wandered into their room. There was a low grumble and a growl. Phoenix screamed with the other three and they scrambled for the door. Hot breath blew past them as they squeezed out. With their combined strength they were able to push the door close. A snarling set of teeth tried to push the door open, but they locked the door and ran. They'd rather face Filch than whatever that was!
No one said a word as they raced to Gryffindor tower. "What do they think they're doing?" Ron panted. By now, everyone was in bed and the common room was empty, "keeping a thing like that in a school."
"You don't use your eyes, do you?" Hermione teased between her breaths. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"
"I wasn't looking at its feet." Ron argued, "I was looking at its heads. There were three of them! Or maybe you didn't notice!" They stopped at the bottom of the stairs to the girl's dormitories.
"It was standing on a trap door." Hermione turned to look at them.
"So, it wasn't there by accident?" Phoenix asked, Hermione nodded. "Like it's guarding something?" Hermione nodded again.
"Guarding something?" Harry asked.
"That's right." Hermione nodded, sure of herself. "Now, if either of you don't mind," she grabbed Phoenix's arms, linking theirs together, "we're going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed. Or worse, expelled." And with that Hermione turned and pulled Phoenix up to bed.