The Falling
Darkness Rising

Chapter Five: Cry of the Phoenix

The morning dew glistened as streams of light shone through the small space between the buildings at the end of the cobbled street. A tall, thin man in a long-sleeved shirt, matching tie, and khaki pants appeared out of nowhere, walking casually up the road. He stopped when he came to an intersecting street, then leaned up against the brick facing of a small corner shop to light a cigarette.

Without warning, two hands reached through the wall, grabbed him by the shoulders, and ripped him off his feet as he fell through the once solid surface. The next moment, he found himself flying through the air, knocking over several shop tables and crashing into the far wall. His eyes watered as he raised his head, trying to understand what had just happened. His wand dropped into his hand, only to be sent spiraling through the air by a disarming spell.

Two figures approached his position, their faces hidden by some sort of disillusionment charm. The closer they drew, the warmer the room became.

"Interesting place to find an Unspeakable on his way to the Ministry," the first figure mused.

"Especially when he lives in Bristol, with his wife and two children. Not exactly the direct path to work," the second figure added. "Meeting someone in private before heading in?"

"What do you two want?" the wizard spat. "You know that it's a straight ticket to Azkaban for attacking an Unspeakable."

"Really?" the first figure mused. The temperature of the room rose to an unbearable level as a red glow surrounded the figures. "What's the punishment for leaking information to Lord Voldemort, Mr. Carney?"

Mr. Carney flinched at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. "You-Know-Who is gone. The Potter brat is a liar."

Without warning, Mr. Carney flew up the side of the wall, slamming into the ceiling, and remaining there.

The second figure pointed a gloved finger in his direction. "You will give us any information that Lord Voldemort has requested from you. You will continue to supply him with information, but you will also share that information with us."

"H-How will I contact you?"

"No worries, Mr. Carney," the first figure replied. "We'll find you when we need information. If you tell anyone about this meeting, our next meeting will be at your home. Understand?"

Mr. Carney nodded vigorously. The next moment, his backside landed hard upon the floor. One of the figures knelt down beside him, a gloved hand grasping his forearm. Pain shot from his forearm, coursing through his body.

"Now, why don't you tell us all that you've told Voldemort's followers. You'll feel so much better afterward."

~~~Darkness Rising~~~

Harry walked into the dimly lit tavern, doing his best to keep his hood pulled down to hide his face. The whole place smelt damp, and the floors were covered with so much grime that they might as well have been made of dirt themselves.

He found a seat at the bar, next to a man who wore the aroma of fire whiskey. Harry dropped a galleon on the counter, then muttered, "Ogdens."

"Yes, sir!" The bartender scooped up the galleon, then poured a glass of Ogden's fire whiskey before placing the bottle and the glass in front of Harry.

The man next to him eyed the bottle but didn't dare attempt to peer under Harry's hood. Sirius had been right, thought Harry.

"More fire whiskey!" a man in a tattered green cloak shouted from the corner.

The bartender trembled as he fetched another bottle, then hurried over to the man. Harry watched the exchange from the corner of his eye. The man snatched the bottle away from the bartender's grasp, his sleeve slipping up to reveal long dirty nails that had been purposely filed to points. He tipped the bottle to his mouth, taking a large swig, then slamming the bottle onto the table. The bartender stood there, shaking but looking half expectant.

"You want more money?" the man snarled. "Be happy that I've paid you what I have and that I didn't just take what I wanted while pissing on your dead corpse."

Harry clenched his glass, rising to his feet. "Awe. Has Voldemort's puppy been having a bad day?"

At Harry's words, the bartender fled for the back, along with several other men, including the man at the bar.

"I don't know who you are," Greyback growled, "but I hope that you enjoyed using the Dark Lord's name."

"Going to kill me, Greyback?"

Flashes of red light from the back of the bar momentarily distracted the werewolf, Harry tossing the fire whiskey into his face. The beast roared with fury as he lunged, only to collide with Harry's shield charm.

Harry tossed back his hood, his green eyes burning with determination. "You enjoy killing Muggle children, don't you?"

Hermione burst into the room, ropes flying from her wand and snaking themselves around the werewolf. Sirius and Bill moved past Harry, sealing off the tavern to the outside and checking the corners for potential stragglers. When they were finished, Bill gave Harry the thumbs up.

"Did Voldemort reward you with a new chew toy for murdering the Muggle girl?"

"Piss off, Potter!" Greyback growled. "I'm not telling you anything!"

Harry stepped forward and kicked the werewolf in the gut as hard as he could. "I don't need you to admit anything, you foul piece of filth. The Grangers witnessed your actions in Malfoy's dungeons. Watched as you carved the letters into her forehead."

"I didn't kill the little bitch, Potter," Greyback spat. "She killed herself."

Hermione kicked him in the side of the head. "Only after weeks of hell at the hands of you and the other Death Eaters!"

"Easy Hermione," Ron sighed, entering from the back and dropping to one knee beside their captive. "Greyback here isn't a Death Eater. Voldemort doesn't give werewolves the Dark Mark, does he? He doesn't value you any higher than any other beast in his service."

"What would you know of value, Weasley?" Greyback hissed. "Your entire family is full of traitors to your own kind. Well … at least most of them."

Greyback's head flew to the side as Ron plowed his fist into the werewolf's jaw. "Speak of my mother again, and I'll hex your bloody parts off."

"Who said anything about your mum?" Greyback laughed, spitting blood onto the floor. "Your little sister is quite the powerful witch."

Ron's wand snapped into his hand.

"Ron, we need him alive," Harry growled. The werewolf's eyes found his. "Now, how does your master send you your instructions?"

"Why should I tell you, little Potter?"

"Because," Bill growled, gripping Greyback by the hair and ripping it back to expose the neck "if you value your pathetic life, you'll answer the questions."

The werewolf's eyes darted from Bill to Ron, and then to Harry.

Sirius called out. "Need to speed this along, Harry. If the werewolf isn't willing to help, then dispose of him and let's be off."

"He leaves messages," Greyback blurted out. "Outside our camp. When he needs something done."

Harry crouched low in front of him. "Your werewolf camp, I presume. How?"

"Death Eaters leave messages on a stake." Greyback strained against his ropes. "They're too afraid to enter the camp."

"Tell me, what kind of missions does he send you on?"

"Mostly snatch and grab jobs," the werewolf snarled.

"What kind of things do you snatch?"

"Just stuff," Greyback grunted. "Sometimes filth, like the little bitch in Malfoy Manor, but mostly stuff that he needs."

"And where do you deliver the goods and people that you snatch?"

Greyback hesitated, causing Bill to pull harder. "A pureblood house in Bristol. There's a tin can portkey in our camp."

"Where in your camp?"

"In my tent."

Harry exchanged a dark look with Hermione.

"What's the Dark Lord took of yours, Potter? Besides your parents and your reputation."

"He's taken too much from me. Time to start taking back."

Harry raised his arm into the air as a stool flew across the room into his outstretched hand. In one fluid motion, he rose to his feet as he swung the seat with both hands, breaking it across the werewolf's back and head. Bill released his hold just in time to avert being struck by the stool as well. Greyback's unconscious and bloody form hit the floor with a thud.

"Modify their memories, then remove the dog's restraints." Harry tossed the piece of stool that remained in his hand onto the floor. "Let's make this place look like a bar fight gone wild."

Bill's mouth twisted as he stared at Harry. "You could have warned me before swinging."

"Honestly, Bill. I'd have been bloody disappointed if Harry had been able to hit you."

"Stow it, little brother."

Sirius stared down at the werewolf. "Is that then? How do you plan on retrieving the portkey without his help?"

"Think there's any protective wards surrounding this werewolf camp of his?"

"Other than Muggle repelling charms put in place by the Ministry … no," Bill answered. "But just because there are no wards, doesn't mean that you can just waltz in there undetected. Werewolves have a very keen sense of smell and hearing."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Not to worry, Bill. I believe that I have a plan."

***Darkness Rising***

Greyback stumbled to his feet, holding the back of his head. He groaned as he tried to remember what happened. Slowly, the memories of a stranger in a dark green cloak calling him a dog and throwing his drink in his face came back to him. He had lunged at the stranger, only to be repelled by a series of spells, then the man broke a stool over his head.

"Where did he go?" Greyback growled, spotting the bartender in the corner, cleaning up bits of broken glass and wood.

The bartender drew back. "Who goes?"

"The bloody bastard that hit me with the stool!"

"Oh. Him," the bartender grunted. "Made a right mess after he knocked you cold. Called everyone here filth for associating with you, then commenced to wreck the place as he levitated chairs, tables and whatever you will. Smashed everything in sight."

"Did you get a look at his face?"

The bartender shook his head. "Kept his hood up the entire time. Must have been enchanted."

"Should this stranger return, send word for me." The werewolf bared his teeth. "Should I hear that he did and you didn't, I'll tear this wretched tavern down around your dead corpse. Understand?"

The bartender nodded, his eyes wide. Greyback stormed out of the tavern, snatching a bottle from the counter as he went. He downed the bottle as he made his way back to his camp. He detested the fact that his kind had to live in solitude on the outskirts of civilization. Smashing the empty bottle against a tree, he shouted, "This whole world will burn!"

A Muggle man standing in his front yard hurried his family inside his house, locking the door behind them. The mixed village lived in fear of him. The Muggles believed him to be a dangerous criminal that lived deep in the woods.

"Forced to live in secret! Forced to live in filth. But not forever, No. Soon, we'll burn this wretched world down!"

Greyback continued to grumble and shout to himself all the way to his camp. Two men stood sentry at the entrance but fell back the moment they recognized him. He staggered through the center of camp until he reached his tent, still holding the back of his head. Not even bothering to light a lamp, he stumbled inside and fell into his bed.

"Mr. Greyback … sir?"

Greyback's eyes fluttered open to see sunlight flooding in through the open flap in his tent. He could barely remember how he'd gotten back to camp, let alone falling asleep. The moment he swung his feet off the bed to sit up, the events of the night before came flooding back as his head began to throb.

"Sir?"

Greyback's eyes snapped to the flap to see a young woman standing in the entrance. He recognized her as one of the new additions. "What do you bloody want?" he growled.

"Um … there's a witch waiting for you at the north entrance."

"A Ministry witch?"

"No … it's one of 'his' followers."

Greyback shook his head violently to clear his head, his matted hair flinging about like a dog. They always leave messages. None ever wish to see us. "Did she say why she wants to see me?"

The young woman dropped her head. "One of the guards asked her why. We're not sure if he's dead …"

The werewolf sobered up at her words, rushing from the tent and heading for the entrance. There, he found one of the two guards keeping his distance from the cloaked figure while the other remained motionless on the ground. He circled wide as he approached the Death Eater, who turned her masked face to greet him.

"What have we done to displease the Dark Lord?"

Immediately, he fell to the ground, writhing in pain. His skin burned, and every muscle in his body wanted to rip apart.

"What have you done?" the witch recanted, watching him twitch as she twisted her wand. "You don't know?"

Greyback couldn't think. Could barely breathe. His eyes were rolling up into his head as the pain intensified. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. He rolled over and wretched on the ground.

"Disgusting! You dare empty your stomach before me!"

The werewolf braced for another curse, but it didn't come. When he dared look up, the figure had lowered her wand.

"Harry Potter paid you a visit last night."

Greyback frowned as he contemplated the statement. Potter! That was Potter?

"Were you not aware of that, wolf? Did you not recognize the little scum piece of filth?"

Greyback lowered his head, grinding his teeth. "No. Someone attacked me at a local tavern, but I didn't see his face. He wore a cloak."

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing."

"Lies!" the woman hissed as fire spread through his body. "Tell me what you told him!"

Greyback howled with pain. "Nothing! I swear!"

When the pain yielded, he glanced towards the camp. His pack had gathered around the entrance to watch. Humiliating me in front of my pack! Making an example of me! Showing their dominance over us!

"Look at me, wolf."

Greyback raised his head slowly until his eyes rested on the Death Eater's mask.

"Being that you held your tongue, the Dark Lord shall let you keep it." He could hear the disappointment in the witch's voice. "He has a task for you."

"What does the Dark Lord command of my pack and me?" Greyback breathed, keeping his tone even.

"A Hogwarts student named Dean Thomas has returned home to care for his filthy Muggle mother. The Dark Lord wishes you to collect him and his mother." The witch paused, then added, "He wishes both delivered alive and unbitten."

"The usual place?"

"Must you be told everything?" the witch hissed, raising her wand. "Must I tell you how to complete the task as well?"

Greyback dropped his head. "Forgive me. The brat and his mother shall be delivered by nightfall."

"Remember, wolf. No witnesses."

The werewolf growled his response. The air snapped like the cracking of a whip, signaling the witch's departure. He shoved himself to his feet, then glared around at the gathering.

"We have a job to do." A twisted grin curved his face. "Any volunteers?"

Finding the Thomas boy and his mother proved remarkably easy. They lived on the outskirts of St Andrews, in a small house on a modest plot of land. The nearest neighbor's house sat a good twenty meters away.

"This is gonna be easy."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Greyback growled, glancing at the silver-haired woman next to him. "Last time you thought a snatch looked easy, you nearly blew it."

"Never mind her, sir," a greasy-haired man to his other side chipped in. "Ole June think they all be easy."

"And you never think."

Greyback hissed, "Shut it! Both of you! We have a job to do. You two go around to the back and snatch 'em as I run them out. Remember, no biting. The Dark Lord wants them whole."

The werewolf watched as his fellows made their way around the outside of the house and into the backyard. He then proceeded up to the front door, waited a moment, then knocked twice.

"Coming," a young man called from another room.

Greyback waited. Thirty seconds. A minute. "Easy, my arse!"

The werewolf kicked in the door, instinctively dodging a purple jet of light.

"Run!"

Greyback just caught a glimpse of a dark-complected boy steering a woman out the back of the house. Shouts, followed by more flashes of purple light echoed from the yard beyond. The werewolf tore through the house and out the backdoor in time to see the gate at the back of the yard slam shut. Roaring in frustration, he sprinted off in pursuit.

Hopping the fence, he caught a glimpse of his prey as they darted up the alley. Using the gifts that came from being a wolf, he raced after them. His legs were stronger than an average human, even without the presence of the moon. He slid to the ground to avoid a jet of red light before springing back to his feet. His agility caught the boy off guard, allowing him to tackle his prey. The woman screamed something inaudible as he ripped the wand from the struggling boy's hands, snapping it before his eyes.

"Thought you could escape me?" The pounding of shoes and the smell of the wild alerted him to the arrival of his foolish comrades. "Bind them up and let's go."

They bound and gagged the boy and his mother, then Greyback withdrew the portkey from his pocket. "Grab hold."

One familiar yank behind the naval and the five were transported through the air and into the center garden of a small manor home in Bristol. Greyback shoved the bound boy and his mother in through double doors and down a flight of stairs. At the bottom ran a long corridor that opened into a vast room. On the wall to the left sat several men, women, and a large boy. All of them were chained to the wall.

"Over here, you," Greyback hissed, shoving the boy.

The moment the boy's gaze found the row of prisoners, several things happened at once. The room glowed red as the silence filled with the sound of a bird's cry. Greyback felt as though the world began moving in slow motion as he watched the ropes binding the boy burn away. Jets of red light struck his fellow wolves, dropping them to the ground. He turned to see where the spells had come from. The Muggle mother stood, holding two wands in her hands and pointing them at his fallen allies. Comprehension dawned as the sound of footsteps thundered down the corridor.

A massive fist connected with the side of his face and the next moment, he found himself looking up at a group of men and women in cloaks. He recognized the owner of the fist from the Malfoy dungeon. Before he could speak, he watched in horror as the Thomas boy morphed into Harry Potter.

"You!" he shouted.

The Potter brat smirked. "Thanks for the help, Greyback. We'd have never found the place without your help."

Before he could retort, a flash of red light illuminated the dungeon, then all went black.

~~~Darkness Rising~~~

"That went rather smoothly," Ron sighed, looking stunned.

"Not out of the woods yet," Arthur retorted, he and Bill checking the bindings of the prisoners.

"No magical wards on their bindings," Bill confirmed "but I'd wager that at least one Death Eater was alerted the moment Greyback and his lot crossed the barrier. Can't see Voldy trusting Greyback's pack to come and go as they please."

Hermione tossed Harry his wand as the final remnants of the polyjuice potion left her system. "Agreed. I'd say we have only a few moments before we can expect company."

Harry nodded, then turned to behold the large figure of his uncle, still bound to the wall and staring up at him in shock. "Hello, Uncle."

"You came for us?" Uncle Vernon whispered.

"To tell you the truth, Uncle, I'm still a little surprised myself." Harry waved his hand, sending the shackles that bound his relatives falling to the floor. "But a lot has changed since we last saw one another, and like it or not, we're family."

Uncle Vernon rubbed his wrists as he stared up, wide-eyed at his nephew.

"You don't need your stick?"

Harry smiled at Dudley. "I still need my wand, Big D. Just not for everything. We'll catch up later." He turned back to the Alliance. "All the prisoners free?"

"Free and ready to leave," Bill confirmed, giving Harry the thumbs up.

"Alright, then. Huddle up and let's get them to safety."

Ron and Arthur helped Uncle Vernon, Dudley, and Petunia to their feet. The rest of the Alliance assisted the other prisoners. Harry raised his wand above his head. At once, the room filled with flame and phoenix cry. When the fire dissipated, only he, Hermione, Sirius, Cassie, and Mr. Granger remained.

The drumming sounds of people apparating onto the floor above echoed through the dungeon.

Harry squared his shoulders. "Shall we greet the arrivals?"

Mr. Granger drew the slide back on his pistol. "Let's."

Hermione extinguished the lights as the five threw themselves against the stone walls on either side of the doorway to the corridor. Light flooded the hallway as the sound of footsteps echoed in the stillness. Judging by the noise, Harry estimated a half dozen Death Eaters were about to get a nasty surprise.

When the cloaked figures entered the dungeon, their wand light fell upon the empty wall where the prisoners were once bound and the werewolves lying unconscious at their feet.

"Filthy animal!" one of the Death Eaters spat, kicking Greyback in the side. "Probably led the Ministry right to them!"

"Close," Harry sneered, stepping forward, "but I've never been a real Ministry supporter."

Harry deflected several jets of purple and red with his shield before blasting their leader off his feet. Red and purple jets, along with flashes of gunfire illuminated the dungeon. In an instant, the Alliance had defeated the new arrivals.

Cassie waved her wand over the fallen wizards. "All still alive, though three are in critical condition."

"In other words," Sirius sniffed "they'll live."

Harry stepped forward and waved his hand over the fallen. A handful of slugs flew into his outstretched hand. Another wave and the sleeves on their left arms ripped, exposing the mark of Voldemort upon their forearms.

"Brilliant," Mr. Granger proclaimed approvingly.

Sirius waved his wand, sending the Death Eaters flying up against the far wall. Hermione muttered, "Carcere Soleant!" The bindings flew up, snapping around the wrists of the unconscious wizards. Harry waved his hand, sending the werewolves flying up against the opposite wall. Ropes flew from Cassie's wand, binding them together.

Harry winked at Mr. Granger. "They'll know it was us when they interrogate the lot, but we don't wanna make it too easy for Madam Bones and the Ministry."

"If the Ministry gets to them first."

Harry shrugged. "Either way, Hermione, they'll serve their purpose. Tom will get the message."

Harry waved his hand and wand in a circular motion. As he did, the far wall caught fire. Moments later, the fire dissipated, leaving the burning image of a phoenix in the stone.

"Very nice," Cassie nodded approvingly.

The group made their way up out of the dungeon and out into the courtyard. Hermione took Harry's hand in hers, and they lifted their wands above their heads.

"Harry, before you do this," Sirius warned, "you do realize that you'll be accused of threatening the Statute of Secrecy."

Hermione snorted. "Let the Ministry mop up. It's their own fault. They choose to sit on their wands."

"Sirius, you told me that Riddle filled the air with fear for years during his rise to power." Harry's stare bored into his godfather's eyes. "Yet, in all that time, the Statute of Secrecy never fell. What we do here tonight doesn't promote fear."

Mr. Granger looked around, clutching his pistol. "Can we get on with this? I feel really exposed out here in the open."

"Do it," Sirius sighed.

Harry smirked before lifting his eyes to the night sky. Hermione mimicked him as they shouted in unison, "Clamora Ardeat Phoenix!"

Flaming beams burst from the ends of their wands, rising high up into the sky as they wrapped around one another. Seconds later, a silent explosion filled the night with light. From the center of the light flew a giant, ghostly phoenix. The image soared around the rooftop, illuminating the grounds below, as phoenix song filled the air.

"Let's go!"

The others joined Harry and Hermione as he raised his arm into the air. The next moment, Fawkes swept them away in a ball of fire.

~~~Darkness Rising~~~

"Seen today's headlines?"

Moody tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet onto the desk in front of him. The image of an enormous phoenix circling a large manor house in Bristol filled the front cover. Dumbledore peered down at the paper, chuckling under his breath.

"Find this amusing?"

"Tell me, Alastor, what is it about this article that bothers you?"

Moody grunted, taking a seat. "How about the fact that the headline reads, 'Cry of the Phoenix,' and the Prophet directly links it to rumors of Potter's name being shouted by Greyback as he was taken away by Aurors."

"Ah, I see that we have very different takes on this article," Dumbledore reasoned. "While you concern yourself with Harry's theatrics, I find the lack of mention of Death Eaters found bound in the basement disturbing."

Moody huffed. "Figured that much. Either downplaying You-Know-Who's return or not wanting to admit that Potter is doing their job. Got to give Potter credit though. Using Greyback to find his relatives was clever."

"I agree. Quite clever, indeed. It also shows that, with the help of Miss Granger's father, Harry is ready to raise the stakes." Dumbledore rubbed his brow. "War, on a full scale, has always been inevitable. Now, I fear that the timetable has been escalated. Death tolls will rise, and it will only be a matter of time before I will be forced to re-enter the fray."

"Poor Albus. Your puppet isn't playing along."

"Again, Alastor, you misunderstand. I expected this. Just not for a while. The Greater Good demands bloodshed to obtain peace. In the end, the only phoenix celebrated shall be me, when I ascend from the ashes to save the Wizarding World."

Moody rose to his feet. "Don't misunderstand me, Albus, when I say that once I would have believed such to be a given. Now, I still believe that you and your stick of destiny can defeat Potter. Potter and Granger together, however, might be more than you've bargained for."

"I'm aware of the core their wands share," Dumbledore countered, his voice cracking. "It strengthens their emotional bond, weaving their magic into something quite formidable indeed. However, by the time that I face Harry, he will be alone, and the inevitable shall occur."

A/N: After a very long time, another update has arrived! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Please review! Special thanks to Critters At Play for being beta. All mistakes are his! ;) New updates to all active stories will be coming.

News update! As of now, my son, JB, won't be working on any of these stories. He's too busy working with his editor to finalize his debut children's book! I can't help gushing with pride! He started writing at age 8, and now at the ripe old age of 13 he's going to be a published author! As a freelance editor and fanfic writer, I stand in awe of my son. He's battled many illnesses in his young life, but has never given up. He's truly my inspiration!