The Dark Phoenix

The subdued behavior of her brothers and Harry at the table did not go unnoticed by Ginny. "What's going on?" she inquired sitting down at the table.

"Nothin' ", replied Fred and George in unison.

"Doesn't look like nothin' to me."

Quickly thinking of a way to distract Ginny, Harry said, "Say Ginny, would you like to try out my Firebolt ?"

"Would I !" exclaimed Ginny shrilly.

Ron gave Ginny a dead pan look, "No Ginny, Harry does not have a wood eye."

Harry chuckled as the twins snickered, "Oy, good one Ron."

Ron started grinning just as Ginny kicked him under the table. "Ow!"

"Come on, let's go" she said heading for the door.

"I expect your father home anytime. He's already late, as if that were unusual. Dinner will be ready when he does," came Mrs. Weasley's voice from the kitchen.

Ginny was thrilled to zoom around on Harry's broom but it didn't take long to notice she was the only one in the air. She landed next to the boys. "That's it. I want to know what's going on or I'm going straight to mum."

The boys definitely didn't want that, so they told her. Ginny looked panicked, "Oh Merlin, maybe we should contact dad at the ministry."

They talked her into waiting like they had decided earlier. So, back to the Burrow and the dining room table they had just left. Harry kept trying desperately to piece together what his vision could possibly mean. What he needed was Hermione to put some logical perspective to it. Then it hit him like a brick wall, he stood up and yelled, "Hermione!" All the Weasley's jumped including Molly who dropped a dish that broke on the kitchen floor.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything Mr. Weasley apparated in the kitchen with a 'pop', the look on his face was severe. "Arthur! What's wrong?"

He held up a hand to Molly, looked around the room and saw Harry standing at the table with everyone else sitting, they were looking at Harry and then to their dad. In the most serious tone that any of his children had ever heard he looked at Harry and said, "Harry, Hermione's been attacked. They've taken her to Hogwarts; don't ask me why, I don't know. As quickly as you can, go by Floo to Hogsmeade and then to the Hospital wing. Ron, you go with him, Dumbledore has asked for you both. Harry take your broom. The two of you can ride double, it's the quickest way." He turned to his wife, "Molly the rest of us will follow. There will be a horseless carriage waiting for us outside at the Three Broomsticks."

Without hesitation Ron and Harry sprang into action. Ron headed toward the fireplace first reaching out for the Floo powder on the mantle as Harry was right behind him. Harry extended his arm and his Firebolt whisked to his hand as though it had been pulled there by a whip. The fire blazed green, Ron stepped in, "Three Broomsticks!" Harry stepped in, "Three Broomsticks!", and they were gone.

Arthur and Molly looked wide eyed at each other, but Arthur shook his head. Molly called out to her children, "Come along now, you heard your father, let's go."

It's hard to imagine what anybody thought at seeing two boys barrel out of the Three Broomsticks fireplace, mount double on a broom and take off at break neck speed. But neither Ron nor Harry cared. It seemed to Harry that time was slowing to a crawl. He knew that riding double was slower than riding single but he was desperate, if only he had figured it out sooner. The look on Arthur's face told him it was really bad. In his haste Harry had misjudged the extra momentum of Ron's added weight. They landed on the top of the closest tower and rolled, but nothing was broken. They sprinted down the steps and ran down the empty corridors toward the hospital wing.

"Headmaster I have the antidote for the poison but it's been too long. From what you've told me the girl should be dead already. Her death will be a loss to the school. She had a brilliant mind"

"Severus, she is not yet dead. Though closer than can possibly be imagined. We have but one chance, dangerous, very dangerous. But we must try, and you might possibly be of assistance before this is over."

Professor Snape stepped up to the hospital wing door and opened it. The light through the windows was beginning to turn reddish yellow as the sun was sinking low in the sky and illuminated a bizarre sight even for the wizarding world. In the center of the room a bed had been placed with Hermione Granger lying there still in a muggle hospital gown covered by a sheet with her arms exposed, her skin was deathly white and her lips were blue. On either side of the bed there was a very old witch and a very old wizard with wands held up as though pointed at the same spot on the ceiling seemingly deep in simultaneous incantations. David and Katherine Granger were standing not far away, shock etched on their faces. Madam Pomfrey was at a table arranging various potions and remedies next to a very ornate gold goblet. It seemed she wasn't sure what she was preparing for, the girl looked beyond hope and it grieved her.

Snape looked at the old witch and wizard in disbelief and turned his head sharply to Dumbledore. "Is that …"

"Yes, that's Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel as they really are. They are unable to maintain their disguises while performing these incantations. I trust your discretion on having seen them."

"Of course, Headmaster," said Snape recovering.

"Now we need Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley before we can begin."

As if on cue Harry and Ron burst through the hospital wing door breathing heavily. Dumbledore looked at both of them over his glasses and spoke quickly giving instructions. "Harry there is a goblet on the table by Madam Pomfrey. Go and drink it all. Professor Snape please accompany him, make sure he does nothing rash." Harry and Snape left. Then Professor Dumbledore addressed Ron seriously, "Ron, how much do you love your friend?"

Ron looked across the room at Hermione lying there and choked, "I love her."

"That's good to know, but what of Harry?"

Ron looked at Dumbledore, straightened and said with conviction, "I'd give my life for him."

"That's as I hoped. It is that willingness to give your life, which will keep Harry from sacrificing his own," he paused, "if this, fails."

Ron paled, "You mean she might … die?"

"Not if we can help it."

Harry had started to cross the room as his eyes came upon Hermione, and he froze. His heart felt like it was in his throat.

"Move along Potter," said Snape in his usual gruff voice. Harry couldn't seem to move. Then in a softer voice "Harry, you can't help her by standing there, looking."

The shock of an almost tender comment from Snape brought him back to action. Madam Pomfrey handed Harry the goblet and told him to drink all of it. It was a glowing liquid not quite gold and not quite silver in color. Harry prepared for the worst; he had tasted many horrible potions and remedies in the hospital wing. He figured it would be best to drink it quickly, but the first taste was a surprise. It was like taking a drink of water not realizing how thirsty you were till you started drinking. He emptied it to the last drop. There were images flooding his mind, of earth, sky, flowers, sunshine, spring. He felt giddy… strong. He had the urge to run, as though he could run through the stone wall of the hospital wing and jump to the ground below, unharmed.

"Steady there Potter. Focus on the task at hand," came Snape's voice of reason. He led Harry toward Hermione and the Flamels as Dumbledore came with Ron.

Dumbledore spoke and his words demanded attention, "Harry, take your place beside Hermione and put a hand upon each arm. Ron, place a hand on Harry's left shoulder. Katherine, you place a hand on Harry's right shoulder and David you put your hand on top of Katherine's. In this way Harry is the conduit for the life force that Hermione needs. All of you must call for her when the spell is cast. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape will stand outside the spell and be prepared to do what is needed when it is complete. Take your places, there is little time."

Harry did as he was told and placed his hands on her arms as though he wanted to shake her awake. 'Oh, God' Harry groaned, she was cold. It gripped his heart. He felt hands upon his shoulders and the weight of the world. His world.

Dumbledore stepped back. The room was getting dim as dusk approached all too quickly. Candles flickered on with flame, but to little avail as Dumbledore brought forth his wand the windows flew open and the wind rushed in blowing them out. Dumbledore had an almost palpable aura of blue energy as he spoke, "spiritus ad respiro animae per conspirationis!". A white burst of magical power shot out encompassing the Flamels and the company of four connected to Hermione. Dumbledore kept the connection; the rest was up to Harry, Ron and the Grangers.

Darkness, no light, but there was only sound. Voices….voices called into the darkness, "Hermione". They called her name out into that vast darkness, that emptiness. Desperation mounted with each unanswered call. Harry heard her first as though he was out front of everyone else and she was far away. It was like a faint voice carried on the wind. With greater effort he called into the ever boundless dark, "Hermione!" Then a pause and a small voice that got louder, "Mum?...Dad?", closer, "Ron?" closer "Harry?" Even though he could see nothing he could sense, he reached out and held. He held for all he was worth, nothing was going to make him let go.

"Harry? Is that you? Why can't I see anything?"

"Hermione," he said slowly, knowing he had to tell her the truth, "Hermione, you're dying we've come to bring you back." He knew that he had to give of himself, his life force, and through him the life force of the others. It was a draining effort and he could feel Hermione becoming stronger. Yet, there was a terrifying realization that it would not be enough. There were the voices of Hermione's mother and father, that they were willing to sacrifice their lives, as well as Ron saying the same. Harry was willing to sacrifice his own life but not anyone else's.

"Harry," came Hermione's voice. "Harry, I know it's not enough. I can tell, I can feel it."

Bitter anguish was what Harry felt.

"Harry, you can't sacrifice yourself. You can't let my parents sacrifice themselves, nor Ron."

Harry didn't answer, he felt complete despair, unfathomable anguish.

"Harry, you have to let go….you must live….you have to live, if my life is to have any meaning….Harry, you must let go….Harry, please….I lov—"

He couldn't bear to listen anymore. No description could come close to what Harry felt, beyond what he could bear. Yet, he couldn't let go, he couldn't…. she was his friend. He couldn't let go. He had lost his parents, he had seen Cedric die, he couldn't bear to lose Hermione. It was too much—, it was tearing him apart, logic and reason told him he had no choice. He couldn't give away anyone else's life but his own.

The spirit, the soul, can only bear so much before it is broken, forever wounded. No fourteen year old should ever have to make such a decision. A wave washed over Harry as though he had been immersed in water….emptiness.

No, not empty. Hope. Hope so small, but it was growing and hope had a sound. Wonderful, beautiful, resonating hope. Hope, it fills the spirit and nothing is impossible. Harry knew what had to be done.

Beyond the spell, outside the door to the hospital wing the Weasley's waited. They had heard the rushing of the wind, the echoing words as Dumbledore cast a powerful spell. They waited worried and tense but were startled as Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix, flew up the corridor erupting into song as the door to the hospital wing flew open. Wide eyed they all got a glimpse of Fawkes flying toward a group of people gathered around a young girl, all eerily illuminated by the spell being cast, before the door slowly closed. Fawkes circled round those gathered within the spell, singing. Small glittering, dancing, gold flames were dropping from his tail feathers like slowly falling snow as he circled and sang. The room was alight from the curtain of dancing flames that had enveloped those within the spell. The curtain began to pulsate; it began to sing much the same as Fawkes. The two songs were in rhythm as the curtain shrank and became denser and more brilliant. It settled upon Harry, he glowed as though he were an angle on fire. The two songs were merging, harmonizing, and becoming more intense until both became a union of one rapturous, glorious note.

Harry leaned forward, the hands upon his shoulders sliding away. He kissed Hermione as the radiance covered them both, her body stiffened and then relaxed. The glow faded as the spell broke. Fawkes flew to Dumbledore's shoulder, Madam Pomfrey caught a staggering Ron, and Snape caught the Grangers with a spell and settled them into a couple of chairs. Harry had slumped across Hermione, his head upon her chest.

Madam Pomfrey sat Ron down in a chair and quickly went to Harry and Hermione.

"Poppy?" came Dumbledore's question.

"I canna believe it! Albus, they're both alive! Tho' Jus' barely."