Disclaimer: The X-Men and all related characters are property of Stan Lee and Marvel Enterprises. Harry Potter and all related characters are property of JK Rowling.
Ron Weasley's voice: Heroes. What makes a hero? What makes a teenaged nerd into a web-slinging champion, a crippled young man into a national symbol, or an innocent one-year-old infant into the Boy-Who-Lived? What is their drive? Honor? Justice? Vengeance? Love? Or maybe they're born with this quality that makes them legend.
HPX3 Xavier's School for the Gifted, July 1980
"We can't thank you enough, Professor Xavier," Mrs. Grey said as she, her husband, and the wheelchair bound professor followed beside the stretcher. On the stretcher was a young girl, not much older then sixteen. Red hair spilled over the edges of the gurney and her parents looked into her void, emerald eyes that were staring blankly to the sky.
"Don't thank me yet, Mrs. Grey," Charles Xavier said, looking at the catatonic girl, I'm unsure if I can even help your daughter."
"You're the only hope we have left, Professor," Mr. Grey said sadly.
"I'll do what I can," Xavier said as they reached Jean Grey's private room. "If I had been there at the time of event, I could have set up psychic blockers to aid and prevent her from falling into this state." He sighed, giving the girl's parents a sad smile.
Jean's best friend had been hit by a drunk driver and died in her arms. The traumatized young girl was unaware she was a telepath, and unknowingly let her mind connect with her friend at the time of her death. As the life slipped away from her lost friend, Jean's mind became trapped and thought that she had died as well.
"I will keep you updated on her condition," Professor Xavier said, "If there's any change, you'll be contacted immediately."
"Thank you, Professor," Jean's parents said, before going to the girl's bedside, "Come back to us, Jeanie," her mother whispered kissing her cold cheek.
"We love you, Jean," her father whispered stroking her long red hair, "Hurry home."
"It's late, but I'll begin trying to reach her immediately," Xavier said, leading the couple from the room.
"Thank you, Professor Xavier," they said again, before leaving the estate.
Xavier rolled back to the girl, "Ok, Jean," He said concentrating his psychic powers on her mind, "It is time to come back …"
---
Days turned to weeks and just as rapidly those weeks stretched into a year. There was no change in the young girl's condition, much to the regret of her latest visitor.
"It's so sad," Scott 'Slim' Summers said, as he sat by the still catatonic Jean Grey's bedside. "Bet you have a great personality," he said, his eyes taking in her soft features behind his ruby sunglasses.
"Hey, Slim!" Hank McCoy and Warren Worthington III said popping into the room, "You coming with us?"
"Huh? Where are you guys going?" Scott asked blinking in confusion.
"It's Halloween, stupid," Warren smirked, his wings flapping slightly showing his excitement.
"The one night a year we can go outside without hiding anything!" Hank cheered, not bothering to hide his blue fur.
"Sure, I'm in, let's roll!" Scott said standing up, he then glanced back at the girl, "See you soon, Jean."
"What do you say, Prince Charming?" Hank sniggered, "Why not try the preverbal kissing the sleeping beauty awake?"
The ruby quartz in his glasses paled in comparison to the crimson sheen that overtook Scott's handsome features.
"We're just having some fun, Slim, lets hurry while there's still candy!" Hank said and the three young men ran out.
As soon as the door closed, a bright flame shot toward the window, completely undetected by Xavier's advanced defenses. It passed through the window as if it wasn't there and began to slowly circle Jean's prone body.
The flame finally settled and took the form of a young woman. "You poor dear, you've been through so much," She spoke softly, her own green eyes looking down into the similar yet void eyes of the girl. "I'll help you in exchange for you helping me in the near future. A lot is riding on us, Jean, will you help me?" The woman smiled, "Brilliant, now it's time to wake up, my dear."
Without further word or movement, the mysterious woman returned to her previous form and engulfed Jean in a pyre of flame that miraculously left the young girl and the bed untouched. The color returned to her delicate features and without warning, Jean sat up and released a primal scream from somewhere deep in her abdomen.
A moment later, Xavier and his three students bolted into the room, "Jean, you're awake!" Xavier exclaimed with relief and happiness.
"What's going on?! Where am I?!" Jean asked in a panicked voice, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar room like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Her gaze froze on the furry form of Hank McCoy and she shrank back against the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees like a frightened child.
"Your parents brought you here a year ago after you slipped into a catatonic coma, I'm Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my School for the Gifted."
---
One year ago
"Harry!" Hermione cried jumping into his arms, "I was so worried!" She whimpered, trying to keep herself from crying.
"I'm alright, Mione," Harry reassured her with a tight squeeze. "But we need to get out," he said as the floor lurched and the walls shuddered violently around them.
The small band of heroes and mages made it to their seats and began to strap themselves in for what would undoubtedly be a rough escape. Hermione desperately sought Harry's hand for reassurance.
"Ok, lets get this bird in the air," Cyclops said as he pressed a few switches, bringing the engines to life. They died as soon as they turned over and he looked over his shoulder to the flight engineer's seat. "Or not … Beast?"
"It's not my fault!" Beast cried, beating on his control panel.
"The power converter is shot," Beast growled, "We need an outside power source and it's going to have to be big to get us out of here! Otherwise we go down the hard way."
Hermione looked at Harry, terror evident in her eyes. He wordlessly wrapped her in his arms and held her tight, "We'll get out of this, Hermione, just hang on …"
"Outside power source …" Jean whispered then looked up when all went quiet. "What?"
"Remember what I told you, Jean?" A young woman that seemed to be about Hermione's age stood between her and the frozen X-Men. Her long, red hair cascaded over her shoulders and her piercing emerald green eyes were locked on Jean's. She could have sworn that she was looking at a younger version of herself, but the accent and the Gryffindor robes belied that theory.
"What?" Jean asked, her mouth growing dry.
"You can save them," The girl said, walking over to Harry who was holding Hermione tightly, "But it will cost you a great deal. Are you willing to die for them, for your family?"
"I …" Jean started nervously.
"If you are willing to die for him, and those you love," the girl said stroking Harry's frozen cheek, "I will help you save them, do you love them enough to give your life for them?"
"Yes," Jean said without hesitation or remorse. "Yes I do,"
"You are a brave person, Jean," She smiled. Before Jean's eyes, the young woman exploded into flames. A familiar feeling washed over her as the flaming form of a phoenix spread its wings and dove into her chest with a haunting birdsong. The force caused her to arch her back and close her eyes, but to her astonishment, she didn't feel pain but a sense of overwhelming encouragement and strength. She opened her flaming, red eyes hesitantly to find the world was back in motion and with a sense of desperation, she knew what had to be done.
---
"I'm sorry, Scott," Beast sighed then jumped into a flurry of motion. "What the … we've got power!"
"What? We're taking off!" Cyclops gasped as the jet began to rise into the air. "WHAT? JEAN'S OUTSIDE!" He panicked. He grabbed the control stick but found it under another's power.
"I know what I'm doing, Scott," Jean's voice echoed in their minds, "This is my choice, all of you over me."
"Jean, no …" Cyclops gulped, beginning to tremble.
"Hermione," Jean's voice said, "It's up to you to watch over our boys, take good care of them for me."
"Jean …" Hermione whimpered as her tears fell unabashedly from her eyes.
"All of you watch over each other," she said, "and I'll be watching you too. I love you all." The voice was quiet for a moment, "And Harry, I'll give your mother your love," she said as the jet sped out of the chamber. "MUM!!" Harry cried diving toward the side window, "No, not again! Please not again!" He cried, not even noticing that Hermione had pulled him to her.
"JEAN!" Scott cried as the temple crumbled and dropped to the ground in an explosive crash. "No …" he cried, before Harry pulled him in a trembling embrace.
Storm wiped her eyes and took control of the Jet. She brought it down to where the students and Professors had gathered. The battle has been won, but had been bought at a tragic price. One that none of them would soon forget.
---
Two weeks ago …
The rubble that was once the Chamber of Secrets has remained untouched for nearly a year. Those who view it fear the evil that had created it and those who were there when it was destroyed look upon it sadly as a monument to the woman who sacrificed her life to bring it and it's master to their doom. On this particularly windy day, one might expect the errant leaf or sheaf of paper to move through the air as if had a life of its own, nobody would expect the rubble of this cursed and sacred landmark to act in the same way. As one particularly large boulder shifted and toppled to the side a small flame sprouted from the new opening and a few sparks leapt from somewhere in the darkness below. Without warning, that small flame burst into a raging inferno and the top of the makeshift tomb exploded like a volcano. The flames coalesced into the unmistakable form of a gigantic flaming bird that cried out with a pent up rage and power that was the unmistakable song of the phoenix.
After the cries of anger and loss died away, the flaming vision receded and revealed the form of a beautiful woman, her flaming red hair was tossed around by the chill breeze along with the yellow sash tied around her shapely waist. The sun struck the red and gold body suit and there was a magnificent flash of light as the sun was reflected off the heaving phoenix-shaped symbol upon her bosom. Slowly she opened her eyes to reveal the emerald-green orbs that spoke in volumes of her anger and worry ...
"Harry …" she whispered before she spread her arms and was once again encased in the living fire that she now embodied. With a cry of urgency, she took to the air with a speed born of desperation.
---
"Oh quit complaining," Wormtail said as he walked out of the factory with Pyro and Toad.
"Maybe I don't bloody like burning up dead bodies!" Pyro complained, "They're far more fun when they can dance around and scream."
"Yeah, well alive or dead, I'm actually happy to see Potter out of the way once and for all, you haven't had to deal with the brat and his friends for years," Wormtail spat, "I wish that my Lord would have gotten rid of his friend Ron too. I'd especially like to see him suffer."
The three finally arrived at the lifeless body of the Boy-Who-Lived. His X-Men uniform was covered in mud and Voldemort hadn't the decency to close the boy's mouth or eyes. He had left him exactly as he fell. "I wish I had a camera. My Lord would want to cherish this scene forever."
"He really hates this kid huh?" Toad asked, blinking at the body.
"You don't know the half of it, my friend." Wormtail smiled, "Pyro would you like to do the honors?"
"Sure …" He said as a massive fire-bird swooped down and engulfed the area in flames. It let out a mournful cry that shook the three men to their cores then took to the air, leaving no trace of the wizarding world's last hope.
"You're such a show off, Pyro …" Toad shook his head at his friend and fellow Brotherhood member after he had regained his composure.
"Don't look at me, Mate," Pyro gulped, "That wasn't me."
"If it wasn't you … Wormtail?" Toad asked, glancing at the Deatheater.
"The body's gone, it's disposed of," Wormtail shrugged, "He's dead, that's all that matters."
The two Mutants nodded and the three returned to the others, silently agreeing to never speak on what just happened again.
Meanwhile, the northern sea was painted red as a colossal, flaming bird soared over the choppy waters that were relentlessly beating the rocky shores below. Intermingled with the anguished cry of the mythical bird were two distinct voices, one American and the other British. With an uncanny timing that were reminiscent of twins, the two spoke as one...
"It will be ok, Son, we'll save you."
Harry Potter and the Flames of the Phoenix