Birth of a Phoenix

Ch. 6- The First Trial

A/N: For those of you who wanted action, you got it in this chapter. If you wanted romance, you can have that too (sort of). Perchance you wanted to know 'What's up with Dumbledore?' well that's in this chapter too! Anyways, please read and leave a review, you know that I appreciate it, and thanks for all the support and praise and whatnot!

Harry found himself, for what felt like the thousandth time that day, laying on his back staring at the ceiling, waiting for someone to release the full body-bind. He had thought he was doing well, he had been regularly besting his teachers only a few days ago, but then it was like they had flipped a collective switch, and now he was overwhelmed again. Numerous times he had almost gained the upper hand before his opponent would suddenly begin to move faster, and he would be forced on the defensive before being beaten. He felt his body relax and stared up into Moody's electric blue eye as he was hauled to his feet.

"That's probably enough for today, kid, you've still got a ways to go, but you're getting there," He clapped Harry on the back and Harry limped out the door. He had some free time now because Transfiguration had been shortened once Harry had reached proficiency with Animagus meditation and no longer required supervision while he tried to reach his forms, and he planned on using the time to get on a broom for the first time all summer. He grabbed his Firebolt and stepped out onto the pitch. It was a gorgeous day, with the sun shining and a gentle breeze keeping the summer heat from being stifling. He grinned as a joyous cry sounded over the grounds from where Fawkes and Hedwig drifted on a thermal, gliding high above the pitch. Harry kicked up and soared after them, chasing his familiars around the pitch, laughing and carefree. He did not see Albus Dumbledore gazing at him from his office window with a melancholy smile on his face. He had deliberately not shown Harry the papers that summer. He wasn't withholding them, and he told Harry what they were saying, but he figured that Harry didn't need to see firsthand the huge, front-page articles where he was a called a senile old man and Harry was painted to be a delusional, attention-seeking, pathological liar fame-whore by Rita Skeeter, who, if the old Headmaster could recall correctly, had been exactly that during her own time at school. Fudge had decided that there was no way Voldemort could be back, probably because he had been the Minister who had been so eager to declare him dead in the first place, and was taking every step possible to discredit Dumbledore and Harry. Even now he was readying some political meddling which would no doubt be directed at disabling Dumbledore's most 'dangerous resource', which was Hogwarts. Dumbledore was worried about the education of his students first and foremost.

The days till Harry's birthday counted down, and despite the fact that he was having the best summer of his life, Harry was still growing excited to see his friends, even if it was only for a day. It was also the first time in his life that he was actually looking forward to his birthday. In the meantime, Harry continued to work, with the focus of his training shifting into dueling and combat and out of things like Potions and History. He was also continuing to learn Occlumency and was now applying it to a combat situation. He and Snape would duel and Snape would randomly attack his mind trying to either predict his next move or throw him off-balance. Harry was also beginning to learn how to respond in kind, but the moment of total concentration it required for him was enough to outweigh any advantages. He also continued to train with Grindlewald, who still struck out at any holes in his defense with the Crutacious. It sucked and it was illegal, but Harry had to admit that it was a fantastic motivator. The style of dueling Harry was learning was not a popular one. Most Pure-bloods, the only ones eligible to compete on the most prestigious of the International Dueling Circuits, used a wide variety of complex and volatile semi-Dark curses that had many different effects that could cause death and dismemberment. They were designed to circumvent some shields and keep their opponent guessing and were considered "powerful" spells because of their high baseline power expenditures. Harry, on the other hand, fought with a handful of "basic" curses: Piercing Curses, Cutting Curses, Severing Charms, Reductor Curses, Exploder Curse, Fire-Making Spells, Fireball Curses, Bombarding Hexes, Bludgeoning Hexes, Tripping Jinxes, Impediment Jinxes, Ice Charms, Water Charms, Thunderbolt Curse, Wind Charms, various Shield Charms, Blinding Hexes, and even the occasional Binding Spell modified to throw razor wire. He took these spells, which many Pure-bloods considered "weak" and pushed the same amount of power through them that one would through a Dark Curse. The result was impressive, to say the least. He could fling out short, simple curses all capable of the same level of death and dismemberment, but with way less effort. Of course, he had some devastating stuff in his arsenal as well, but he saved it for the really dangerous stuff. He also learned to run, dodge, dive, jump, and roll to avoid curses, something that was simply not done by the Pure-blooded Death Eaters. All in all, the ruthless and effective style impressed on him by Grindlewald and Moody was what would give him the upper hand in duels with better trained, more experienced, and more sadistic opponents. Harry believed now, for the first time since he'd been at Hogwarts that he was prepared for whatever came next. So it was with a light heart and a happy smile that he set off for the Weasleys' on July 30th.

Harry arrived at the Burrow after lunch with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder and set off down the lane from where Fawkes had dropped him off. As he came into view of the lopsided home, two red-heads and a brunette burst forth from the front door. Ginny reached him first and he wrapped her in his arms, squeezing her tightly and holding on for perhaps a moment too long. Next, Hermione tried to crush his ribs and Ron shook his hand firmly. Then they took a moment to step back and look at him. Having not seen him since the end of term, Ron and Hermione were shocked at the changes, and Ginny was also, having not really gotten a good look at him when he was comforting her about Michael. He was now much taller, having sprung up to almost six foot, and had filled out through months of hard work and good food. Un-obscured by glasses, his emerald eyes sparkled with more happiness than ever and his once-shaggy black hair had been neatly trimmed and he had given up on taming it, instead directing it into stylishly messy look. But the biggest change was in the very aura he exuded, which before had seemed to represent almost a weight on his shoulders, like he never fully smiled; now, however, it radiated a sort of humble confidence and a little bit of mischief. It was, in total, a very positive change.

"So, how is everyone?" Harry asked with a bit of a smirk as he watched his dumbstruck friends. He threw a casual arm over Ginny and Hermione's shoulders and guided them inside with Ron trailing behind.

"Oh! Uhm, we're good, we're really good, so how've you been?" Hermione finally managed to get out.

"Oh, I've been pretty good; the Dursleys have left me alone this summer, so I've been doing my own thing. It's been nice," Harry managed to shoot off a conspiratorial wink to Ginny as he spoke. When they entered the kitchen, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed equally taken aback by Harry's dramatic change, and even Fred and George took note. Immediately, Ron decided that it was time to play Quidditch and he, Harry, Ginny, Fred and George took to the pitch. Hermione elected to watch. They played half-field with Ron as Keeper and Ginny and Harry playing against Fred and George, Ginny and Harry proved to be capable of a subconscious cohesion even more impressive than the Twins' legendary synchronization. As the sky began to turn pink, they were called in for dinner by Mrs. Weasley and Harry was surprised to see that all of the Weasley brothers were there to celebrate with him. Dinner was a noisy affair with the Twins causing chaos, Bill and Charlie telling stories about their respective careers, and Ron and Ginny – and that day, Harry and Hermione – going over their adventures at Hogwarts, of which, Harry realized, there were many. After dinner, Harry made sure to get the Weasley twins alone for a moment, which was usually a monumentally bad decision.

"Hello gentlemen," Harry slid into their room, his wand prepared on its wrist holster just in case, "I have a business proposal for you," He gave them his best salesman's smile, the one his Uncle used on clients.

"Yes, we're listening," They said in sync, without looking up.

"You see, I've heard tell about this joke shop you two devils have come up with," Harry raised an eyebrow at them.

"Jokes? Us? I'm afraid you must be mistaken," One of the twins – Fred maybe – said, trying to keep a straight face.

"And a few friends of mine have given me this, to give to you," Harry removed a small wooden box from his rucksack and set it on the table in front of the twins. Engraved in the top was an elaborate script 'M' and no apparent way to open it.

"Wait, Harry, what is this? How do we open it?" One twin shouted at him as he left.

"You'll manage," Was all Harry said over his shoulder in response. It had been his idea to give his Tri-Wizard winnings to the twins, but Mooney and Padfoot had insisted to match his investment, but had insisted that it come in the form of a prank, so now 3,000 Galleons were sitting in a box in the Twins' room, waiting for them to figure out the trademark words. It took them about 30 minutes before they ambushed Harry and dragged him into their room again.

"You know the Marauders?" They wasted no time with formalities.

"You do too, boys," Harry grinned, "All three of them,"

"Who are they, tell us, tell us, tell us," The Twins were doing their best puppy dog eyes and Harry grinned.

"Well Padfoot, he was this guy named Sirius Black," Harry smirked, he was enjoying this all too much.

"What! No way!"

"Yep, and Mooney, well you know him as Remus Lupin,"

"Are you serious? He was a Professor!"

"No, Padfoot is Sirius, and I thought you were smarter than you looked," Harry chuckled and the Twin's jaws dropped, "And Prongs, well he was this guy named James Potter, maybe you've heard of him?" Harry would look back on that day and laugh for a long time. The pure hilarity of the Twin's dumbstruck expressions were priceless as he spun on a heel and exited the room. The rest of the evening was as uneventful as an evening with the Weasleys could be and that night Harry couldn't sleep, but not for the reasons he was accustomed to. He was, for the first time in his short life, excited about his birthday.

The next morning, Mrs. Weasley served a huge breakfast which consisted of all of Harry's favorites and then, after the dishes were washed, promptly vanished into the kitchen to prepare Harry's extra-special birthday dinner. Harry had never seen the Burrow so full of happiness and joy.

"You know, everyone at the Burrow loves birthdays," Ron had told Harry as they descended the stairs that morning, "It's a reprieve from chores and, usually, we all get to have fun with the presents, no matter who gets them," And it was true, no chores had been doled out and they had been let loose until dinner. Harry quickly found himself engaged in a game of Exploding Snap with Ron, Charlie, and Hermione which never seemed to end, while the Twins, who had been disturbingly respectful that morning, had returned to their bedroom/lair. Bill and Mr. Weasley were going over some project in the shed and Ginny was out flying. Percy had not made an appearance that morning, having gone in to work early.

At that particular moment, as Harry watched Ginny fly in lazy circles, tossing a Quaffle to herself and Ron shouted to get his attention, several things happened at once: Bill, a look of sheer panic on his face, had exploded through the back door from the shed just as a bolt of green light streaked from the trees towards Ginny and a line of black-robed figures advanced from the tree line, maybe fifteen strong.

"The wards have fallen!" Bill shouted, his voice quavering, "Everyone get behind something and seal the house!" He began to herd his siblings towards the dining room, but Harry was already on his feet and running towards the door. The green light slammed into the tail of Ginny's broom and it twisted violently in the air, tossing Ginny off. In slow motion she fell, crashing into the earth with a sickening crack. One of the approaching Death Eaters raised his wand to incant those vile words again, his lips forming the first syllables, but Harry could hear nothing but his pulse in his ears, pounding in time with his footsteps as he ran towards Ginny. His wand rose of its own accord, and the Cutting Curse that poured forth from its tip possessed such power that the silver light seemed to be a solid blade. Harry's target saw the threat and tried to react, to change mid-spell and save himself, but his flimsy shield was torn asunder and his body was ripped into two jagged halves. Harry continued to throw spells as he came to make a stand over Ginny's still form. All of his training was wiped away in the flood of adrenaline and rage. A form attacked Harry from the front, and Harry sent an Expulso at its feet, not stopping to watch as it dissolved from the waist down. The Weasleys had tried to follow, but had been pinned down in the garden. Compared to the rest of the field, the Stunners and Body-Binds they were using seemed to be child's play. It was Bill, Harry thought, who was first to break when he sent some ancient Egyptian curse at his opponent that made him clutch his head, scream, and fall over. A curse bit into Harry's side and his concentration was once again focused on his enemies. This particular Death Eater brought up a shield, which Harry hammered with Reductor after rage-fueled Reductor. In a moment of sanity, he summoned Fawkes to carry the Weasleys away. Two at a time the Phoenix grabbed them, starting with Ron and Hermione who were beginning to show strain. Next went the Twins who lacked practical curse knowledge, and after them Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, followed finally by Bill and Charlie. Then it was only Harry on the field, standing over the body of the girl he didn't know he loved, covered in cuts and burns. He poured fire into the next group of enemies, engulfing them in a white hot jet. Fawkes sunk his talons into another one's shoulder and disappeared, only to reappear 200 feet up in the air and release him. Harry had cut the Death Eaters down to four when Fawkes grabbed Ginny and pulled her away in a ball of flame, but he was beginning to show signs of exhaustion and the toughest enemy had yet to be beat. Steady, rhythmic thumps began to echo louder from the trees and a disgusting creature broke through into the clearing. A Mountain Troll, and an especially large one at that, stood opposite Harry with undisguised bloodlust in his eyes. Harry snarled and snapped his wand in a small circle, sending a ball of flame crashing into two of the remainder. One went down hard, the other was only slowed, but it was enough to expose him to Harry's next Piercing Curse, which punched a fist-sized hole in his chest. Harry shielded a volley of purple curses and unleashed a Bombarding Curse into their caster, using the huge purple spell's arched trajectory to place it around his shield. The explosion also hurled his compatriot into the path of the Troll's club, leaving him bent in half. Harry was sagging, his hands on his knees as he panted for breath. He knew that if he didn't stop it, the Troll would ransack the Burrow, and the Weasleys would never be able to afford to repair it. Taking a deep breath, Harry summoned up the last of his magical reserves and poured them into the most powerful Reductor he had ever cast. The buck of the wand as the spell left its tip knocked Harry back and the maroon spell smashed into the Troll's face, snapping its head back at a ridiculous angle and knocking the beast off its feet. Harry stumbled as it hit the ground and barely registered as Fawkes pulled him away.

Harry reappeared in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing with spots forming in his vision and his limbs growing heavy. He stood, swaying on unsteady feet as Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Weasley set in in him, equal looks of worry on their faces. He looked over to the Twins, who, like the rest of their family, were incredibly pale, and cracked a small smile.

"Do ya' want to keep the Troll as a lawn ornament? " Harry's voice was thick and distant and when he finished speaking his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped into the women's arms, unconscious.

When Harry awoke from his comatose state, the windows of the Hospital Wing had been opened to allow in the bright morning sunshine. Harry glared at the weather which seemed to be mocking the aches and pains he felt. His head was pounding like a drum, his limbs felt like lead, and every single inch of skin seemed to throb with cuts and bruises. He only barely managed to sit up, trying to force his addled brain to conjure up the specifics of the battle, but he could only get snippets of lights and explosions and pain. He looked over to his bedside table, which held a stack of envelopes which seemed to be "Get Well Soon" cards from the Weasleys and the Hogwarts residents, except for one letter, a large, black envelope on the top of the stack that seemed to radiate evil. Harry picked it up and flipped it over and his heart almost stopped. The seal, in green wax, was the image of a snake slithering through a skull's mouth. Harry opened it and a leaf of folded black parchment fell out. Harry opened it to reveal a single line of silver ink and another small package. It simply read: Happy Birthday, Harry Potter. Harry's heart was in his throat as he opened the package. In it was a familiar clock hand, and an arbitrary memory bubbled up in Harry's brain.

"That's the Weasley Family Clock, it's got the whole family on it and it shows me where everyone is and whether they're okay or not," Mrs. Weasley was telling a twelve-year old Harry over an early breakfast. The kitchen was empty save for the two of them.

"How does it do that?" Harry asked in curiosity.

"Well if they're in trouble, their hand goes to Mortal Peril, and the only way for a hand to come off the clock is if that person dies or is stricken from the family," The rest of the conversation drifted away as Harry turned over the clock hand in his palm. The words "Ginny Weasley" seemed to glare up at him like an accusation. He hadn't been good enough to save her this time. An unimaginable pain, one worse than any Harry had ever felt before by exponential amounts, welled up in his heart and he began to panic. Hyperventilating, he turned to the Hospital Wing's beds. Only one other had its curtains drawn and Harry stumbled across the ward as fast as he could, knocking over a table in the process. Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office at the noise and saw one of her patients scrambling across the room.

"Mr. Potter, stop, you'll hurt yourself even worse!" She shouted to him, but he ignored her and he tore away the bed's curtains to reveal Ginny's unnaturally still, pale body. As flashbacks from the Chamber flooded his head, Harry grabbed at her wrist desperately, searching. Finally he found it, the slow, steady beat of her pulse and Pomfrey just managed to conjure a chair underneath him as he collapsed, relief washing through his body. He slumped down into and his head fell forward to rest on Ginny's stomach, taking comfort from the rise and fall of her breathing and the thumping of her pulse where her hand was clasped between both of his. Poppy Pomfrey knew that Harry needed to rest to rebuild his magical strength, but even on potions he had tossed and turned, and moaned in his slumber. Now, however, as he slept sitting by the young Miss Weasley's side, he seemed almost content.

It was three days before Madam Pomfrey deemed it allowable for visitors to see her patients. Since Harry's miniature panic attack, neither of them had moved from their positions and neither had woken even once. Both of them also seemed to be recovering abnormally fast, but she chalked it up to the Fawkes, who hadn't left his bond-mate's side, maintaining a constant vigil. She opened the doors to the Hospital Wing and tried to announce that she would allow two visitors at a time, but the Weasleys, Sirius Black, and Hermione all instantly forced their way inside, all rushing straight to the bed where Ginny was. If Madam Pomfrey had to admit it, it hadn't looked good when the Phoenix had appeared with her broken body. She had had several broken bones, massive internal bleeding, some punctured organs, and spinal damage and her chances had been low, but she pulled through. Mrs. Weasley threw back the curtains to see her only daughter and almost screamed in surprise when she saw Harry's head resting on her stomach and her hand tangled in his hair. She prepared to fly into a rant about proper behavior when her eyes fell on the black letter lying on the bed. Reading its contents and seeing the clock hand, the Transfiguration on which was just starting to fade, was enough to calm her. It was simply reassurance for Harry; there was nothing romantic about it, which was good, because the amount of trouble Harry got into was not at all something her daughter would be involved in, and the war was totally out of the question. Then there was the matter that Harry had killed people, and she would not allow her daughter to be with a killer, especially if it meant that her precious Ginny had to become a killer herself. The very thought sickened her. If anyone else had any problems with the scene, they did a much better job hiding it. They all stood there for a few minutes longer, just watching the pair sleep and reassuring themselves that they were all alive. Then Madam Pomfrey shooed them all out of her Hospital Wing and re-sealed the door.

Late in the night, Ginny awoke for the first time since her fall. Her aches were surprisingly few and the pleasant warmth on her chest made her feel safe. She cracked her eyes open and saw the mess of black hair there and her heart soared. She shifted and he snapped awake, immediately going for his wand, but her hand on his shoulder calmed him and he smiled a small smile at her and went to lay his head back on her stomach, but she stopped him.

"Harry," her voice creaked from lack of use, "That can't be comfortable," Harry looked down and tried to hide the flush in his cheeks.

"Well, no, not really," His voice was equally rusty. Ginny didn't know if it was the near-death experience, the potions, or the fact he looked so damn handsome even in a hospital gown and covered in bruises, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him to lay next to her.

"There's plenty of room on the bed, okay? I don't mind," Harry's blush deepened tremendously, but he complied. He tried to turn over to face away from her, but she grabbed him around the abdomen and pulled him close, burrowing her head into his chest. Slowly, his arms encircled her shoulders and he relaxed. They lay there for a few moments, with Ginny occasionally squirming, trying to get closer to Harry's warmth, before they drifted away into sleep.

In his office, Dumbledore was pacing worriedly. He had done his very best to try to prepare the Wizarding World for the coming war, but you could not help those who didn't want to be helped. In his hands, he held orders for the selection of the new DADA teacher. He had feared it would come to this, and he could only be thankful that he had managed to squelch the laws allowing a High Inquisitor to be placed at Hogwarts. In doing so, he had overreached himself just enough to give Fudge an opening to get him removed as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, but he didn't care about that unless they decided to remove him from the Chocolate Frog cards. In reality, it gave him time for more important things anyways. He looked down at the pair of conjured scissors in his hand for a moment before bringing them up to the back of his neck. With a few sharp snips, Dumbledore's legendarily long hair fell to the floor in a rope. This also broke the Whitening Charm on it and it returned to its natural soft grey. Next went the beard, cut off at the top of his sternum and knotted once. The last few generations had grown accustomed to seeing Dumbledore, benevolent if slightly barmy Headmaster, but now as he looked in the mirror, Albus saw Dumbledore, the brilliant sorcerer and fierce warrior who had led the Allied Wizards against Grindlewald and Hitler in the Second World War. Of course, he had a few more wrinkles, and he'd gained a few pounds, but that could be rectified. With one last glance, he turned to his desk and opened a locked drawer. Inside was a thick folder full of papers written in neat, if slightly effeminate, handwriting. Each had on the top the same name: Tom M. Riddle. Dumbledore sat and began to read. He had learned long ago that no matter how hard you tried, no one can truly escape their past. So the night passed, and as Albus Dumbledore tried to delve into the depths of Tom Riddle's mind, Harry Potter was, for the first time, wholly successful at staying out of it.

A/N: Alright, a battle, some (almost) romance, and Dumbledore beginning to become the warrior again. So in this battle I tried to show that while Harry has the power and some of the skill, he just doesn't have the control or the instinct for fighting yet. While it didn't really matter that much against some Death Eater recruits or a dumb, slow Troll, it would cripple him against one of the Inner Circle. Also, Harry is now a killer. Even worse, the Weasleys know. Coming up we have Umbitch, more training, Animagus, and other fun stuff. Please leave a review of any kind: comment, criticism, suggestion, recommendation, compliment, etc. It's all good. Also, I own nothing, and thank you all for reading!