The Emerald Phoenix by circinusphoenix

Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Mystery
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 19/03/2007
Last Updated: 20/04/2007
Status: In Progress

'Who are you?' he asked, noticing the man's wand pointing sqaure at his chest. The
cloaked man laughed harshly at the question, and took a step forward. 'I am your executioner
Longbottom.' Neville realized the voice sounded familiar. The cloaked man removed his hood, and
Neville fell backwards in shock. 'No! It- It can't be!' he whispered. The cloaked man
laughed again, his red eyes looking at Neville on the floor. 'Oh it is. I am the Emerald
Phoenix, and you are the first of many who will die at my wand. Avada Kedavra!'




1. The Last Longbottom
----------------------



**A/N - Alright, this story, I'm very excited about. My second dark story, this one will be
very dark** **(my first cannot be posted on Portkey)****. Just from the summary, I doubt I
have to warn you there is a character death in the chapter.

I am hoping this story will reach people of various wants and interests, so please spread it about,
and tell your friends. I will be honest, I do hope this story becomes a popular one. The plotline
will be extremely complicated in its progression, which should make it a very**
**fascinating** **story. This is my last new story being posted before I go on break for the
summer.

Enjoy, and please review.

**

**Chapter One**

*The Last Longbottom*


`Thank Merlin it's Friday' Neville voiced to himself, putting down his last plant to
catalogue. He had been cataloguing plants all day at the Ministry, and it was about time to pack up
and leave for the day. Everyone else already left early, as per usual on Fridays. Work in the
Department of Magical Plants was slow these days, but Neville loved every moment of it.

As he slowly got up and looked around the department, he was reminded at how lucky he and the world
were that the war turned out the way it did. Voldemort was defeated, and the world stayed out of
the darkness.

After Voldemort was destroyed by Neville's friend Harry Potter, the world relished in the Dark
Lord's fall. Neville was there, helping the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix defend
Hogwarts, and he remembered how the reaction to Voldemort's death moved through the
school.

Neville was in fact the person who found Harry that day. Amidst the dueling wizards and Hogwarts
students against the mass number of Death Eaters, Harry and Voldemort had met in the lower dungeons
of the castle, away from everyone else. Neville found Harry lying unconscious in one of the dark
corridors, and as he looked around for help, he found a black cloak, and a long and hauntingly
still wand on the ground. The wand was broken in half, and as he continued to look for help, he ran
back to Harry when he heard him moan. Getting to him, Harry whispered “he's gone,” before he
lost consciousness again.

As Neville put his catalogue into the filing cabinet, he looked about the lab again and smiled. So
much had changed since that day so long ago. Well, he had to remember, it was not that long ago,
only three years. Still, the absence of light against dark had a huge affect on the wizarding
world.

After Voldemort fell, Death Eaters became disorientated and quickly gave up to the Ministry. Some
escaped from Hogwarts, but many were caught very early afterwards. The ones that were still on the
loose never showed their faces, since they were scattered everywhere, and their precious Dark Lord
was gone for good.

The Ministry, after things settled, returned to the Ministry building, and Hogwarts cleaned itself
up, and reopened. Few students were seriously injured, although some, like Terry Boot, suffered
injuries that proved later to be fatal. In total, six Hogwarts students—Terry being the only
seventh year—and about a dozen Ministry officials died in the protection of Hogwarts. The Order
suffered much worst losses, with many of their newer members perishing. The biggest loss to the
Order had to be, especially to Harry, the loss of Remus Lupin. Dying a valiant death by protecting
four first year students from two Death Eaters, all the first years survived, but Remus was killed
as they escaped and he defended them. Neville was told by Hermione Granger, that she was going to
make sure that in the new versions of Hogwarts: A History, at least three pages would be dedicated
to Lupin and his story. The new versions were going on sale at the end of the month.

Locking up the file cabinets, Neville made one last stop to the greenhouses. They were not exactly
greenhouses, with outside with sunlight coming through, but were instead magically made
greenhouses. Sunlight still poured through them as if they were outside.

Walking through the quiet and peaceful greenhouse, he looked at the Abyssinian shrivelfig, the
Fanged Geranium—which tried to bite him as he passed—and finally, the Flutterby bush, which
quivered as he walked by. He loved all the plants, and their fascinating uses and attitudes. Oh
yes, plants had attitudes, and in the magical world, Neville found out some of them even acted out
with those attitudes. Luckily he got along with most of the plants, though the Geranium never liked
him after he had to replace his soil, and used the wrong type.

Coming back, he locked the door to the greenhouse, and waved his wand over a peculiar looking knob
next to the door affixed to the wall, which turned. It was part of Neville's job, as
Under-Coordinator for the department, to turn the greenhouse over into night time. The sun would
set in the greenhouse, and rise again by time he returned in the morning. Of course it was Friday,
so he was not coming back in the morning, but the weekend crew would be there.

Walking out, he grabbed his coat and his bag, and made for the lift. The Department of Magical
Plants was run under the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The
“Planters” as they were called, were small in number, but they enjoyed their work thoroughly,
working with all the plants.

Getting on the lift, Neville was happy to see a fellow Hogwarts student there.

`Padma!' Neville boasted, slightly scaring the woman on the lift.

`Neville! It's wonderful to see you' she exclaimed, as they shared a friendly hug. Neville
was very fidgety with the hug, since in the three years since he had seen Padma, she seemed to only
become more attractive.

`What are you doing here in the Ministry?' Neville asked her shakily, as the gate closed and
they started their way to the Atrium.

`Oh, I was just visiting the Department of International Magical Cooperation. I'm a co-chair of
the British-Indian council.'

`Co-chair' Neville said with raised eyebrows. `Wow, congrats Padma! That's quite the
position.' Padma laughed and looked down for a moment.

`Yes, well, there are fourty-three co-chairs, but still, I like the position. I get to travel to
India a lot, which is wonderful. What do you do?'

`Oh' Neville responded, not feeling so proud of his position anymore. `I'm the
Under-Coordinator of the Department of Magical Plants.' Neville was happy with Padma's
response.

`And you thought my position was good, an under-coordinator? Well, you deserve it Neville,
especially since it's in Herbology. I remember Professor Sprout always boasting to other
professors how you excelled so well.' Neville blushed with the comments, and smiled brightly.
He never knew Professor Sprout said that to the other professors.

As the lift reached the Atrium, Neville invited Padma out first, and then followed her to the Floo
connections off the main hall. The Atrium underwent some reconstruction after the Ministry fell
before the attack on Hogwarts, but three years later, it was looking much better. The Magical
Brethren however, could never be fixed to their before proud selves. They all wore frowns now, and
as much as the Ministry tried, they would always go back the next day. The house elf did not look
up with admiration, but rather slouched and looked to the water below. The centaur now had its
arrow in his quiver, and held his bow at his side, while he looked about—looking away from the
wizard.

`Well, it was wonderful to run into you Neville. Say, did you want to go for coffee tomorrow
afternoon?' Padma asked.

`Sure, that would be great. Laurel is coming back tomorrow night, so perhaps you might meet
her.'

`Oh, is she your girlfriend?' Padma asked, as a light trickle of wizards and witches moved past
to the fireplaces, and vanished in the green flames.

`No, she's my wife' Neville answered, Padma beaming at him.

`You're married! Oh, congratulations Neville! Hey, why wasn't I invited to the
wedding?' she asked, still happy but a bit disappointed.

`Well, it was only me, her, and like three other people, and that's including the cleric. We
kept it small, `cause we both wanted that. She's very nice though, a Muggle.' Padma smiled
at Neville again, and gave him a playful punch in the shoulder, that he blushed at again. Even
though he was married to a wonderful woman, it didn't change the fact that Padma was very a
very beautiful girl—sorry, woman.

`Alright, so we'll meet . . . say, around three in the Leaky? I want to meet your wife!'
she exclaimed happily. Neville agreed to the time, and she left to her flat for the night. Neville
gave a chuckle, and with a sparkling of Floo Powder, and a quick shout, he Flooed to his
home.

Landing in his sitting room, he dusted off the soot from the hearth, and vanished it from the
floor. Putting his bag down next to the couch, he sat down and sighed.

His house was a small, but cozy one. It was in the country, just outside Banbury. Both he and
Laurel decided to live here, since it was such beautiful farmland. Loving plants of course had
drawn Neville there, and Laurel grew up on a farm, so it worked well. They had a very small amount
of land, and they grew mostly barley. A small patch near the back of the house was for
Neville's more proactive plants, but he made it so normal muggles would not see them.

Looking about, he looked up to the ceiling and breathed out slowly. The trip from the Ministry to
his home was always a contrastive time. The Ministry was always so busy, like it was at Hogwarts.
He enjoyed the busyness of it all, always having something to do, or someone to meet. Of course he
also enjoyed the quiet times, like now, but it was a Friday, and he wanted to do something.

Getting up, he went to the kitchen, and made himself a small supper. He was not too hungry, and the
idea of spending his night at home alone did not exactly make him jumping for joy.

That was a big aspect about Hogwarts he missed. At Hogwarts, there was always homework, or
Quidditch, or—in their last year—the defense club. The Guardians practiced all the time, and
Neville helped out Harry and the others a lot with that. He loved having all the people know him,
and having to prioritize things.

Since his position in the department, it seemed he got lost in the new world. Seeing Padma was
surprising, since he had not seen any friends from Hogwarts in some weeks. Everyone was busy, he
knew this, but he would have wished to see people more. Working with plants did not exactly make
new friends all over the Ministry.

Sitting down with his spaghetti, he ate quietly, and followed by using magic to clean up. Going
back into the sitting room, he decided he would be a bit more proactive. Neville was never one for
being proactive, but he wanted to get out and see some people. Getting up from the couch again, and
giving his cat—Mandrake—a nice pat, he went towards the hearth. Just as his name sake, Mandrake
didn't enjoy being pushed off his place once he got settled, so he bound upstairs after the
move—his black tail bobbing behind him, occasionally flicking in anger.

Moving over, he threw some Floo powder into the fire place, and yelled out the address. He stuck
his head in, and moments later, he was pulling back with a smile on his face. He moved upstairs,
showered, and while getting dressed, tried to make up with Mandrake. A good thing about Mandrake,
was his lack of short-term memory, so he forgave easily—as long as you gave him about an hour or
so.

Popping out of his house, he locked the door, and gave a twist; Apparating away and reaching the
house he intended. Knocking on the door, he was happy to see the face of his—some would say
loony—blond haired friend.

`Hello Neville' Luna expressed as dreamy as ever, Neville smiling. The two shared a nice hug,
and he entered to find it was only the two of them.

`Where's Ron?' Neville asked as Luna offered to take his coat. Neville insisted he do it
himself, since Luna was quite big at the moment. She was pregnant, about seven months along, and it
surprised Neville when he Flooed earlier to see how big she had gotten since the last time he saw
her, about two months before.

`Oh, Ronald is at work. He's a lucky boy, and gets to work overnight on a Friday. No worries
though, I enjoy the quietness' she answered, moving into the sitting room, and Neville
following. They lived not to far from Ottery St. Catchpole, just outside town in the country. Luna
enjoyed living near her father, and Ron's family in the The Burrow.

`Oh, well, I can go if you'd like-`

`No, it's alright Neville. It's nice having friends' she answered in her oh-so-common
oddness.

`So how are you doing?' Neville asked, moving forward.

`Oh, I'm alright. Can't really see my feet anymore, but it's alright. Ronald gets all
worried over me, but I have to keep telling him that there aren't any worries anymore. I think
we all had enough of that before.'

`Quite. So you are on leave now from the Quibbler?' Neville asked, as he took a cup and poured
some tea.

`Yes. My father wouldn't let me work anymore, so I stay here now. I still go and see him a lot,
though Apparating is a bit difficult with the extra size. Plus Harry, Hermione, Seamus, and loads
of other people come to see Ron, but I see them too' she explained, Neville feeling a bit bad
at Luna's solitude. She never had a huge amount of friends, but he hoped he was helping at
least.

`Well, I came to see you tonight, so there you go' he said.

`Thank you Neville. How are the plants doing at the Ministry?' she asked, dropping at least
some of the dreamlike oddness.

`They're doing well. Work is quiet, but it's nice. Hey, what are you doing on Sunday
evening?' he asked, getting an idea.

`Oh, probably just staying here. Ronald has tonight's shift, but then he goes back to days on
Monday, so we'll be probably spending the night in.'

`Did you want to come over for dinner? Laurel gets back tomorrow night, and I thought you'd
like to get out' he expressed nicely.

`Hmm, that would be nice. I'll let Ronald know, thank you Neville.'

`It's no problem! We haven't had a house guest in while, so it'll be nice. So have you
picked a name yet for the baby?'

`Oh, we have some ideas. Ronald wants to stay to tradition, but I thought a newer name might be
nice.'

The two friends continued to talk with each other for a while, conversing about various things. Ron
seemed bent on naming the baby—be it a boy—Charles, after his brother that died that day at
Hogwarts. Luna did like the name, but was leaning more towards a newer name, like Ethan or Cameron,
but the discussion was still ongoing.

Neville found out that many of his other friends from Hogwarts were doing well. Harry was still
working in the Auror department with Ron and Hermione, though from what Luna was telling him, Harry
was on vacation at the moment. Seamus was working for a Quidditch shop in Dublin, and played with a
team in the Irish National League.

The Weasleys were doing alright as well, which Neville was pleased to hear. Mr. Weasley, as people
knew, was the Deputy Minister of Magic. He was the one who instated the Department of Magical
Plants, so Neville still kept close ties to him. Ginny Weasley was in her early years of Healer
training. Neville thought she would not go for that particular line of work, but she was doing it.
He imagined her getting into a number of tiffs with patients, her fiery attitude still making its
place known in the world.

As the night started to deepen, Neville decided he should go. Luna was getting tired, and he was
also. It had been a long day at the Ministry, and the thought of his warm bed at home made him all
the more sleepy.

`Thanks again Neville for stopping by. I'll bring a dessert for supper on Sunday. I'll get
Ronald to Floo before we pop over' she said.

`Sounds good, I'll let Laurel know. Good luck with the name, I think Ethan Weasley sounds nice.
Take care Luna' he insisted, giving her a hug.

`Oh don't you fret, we Lovegoods always keep an open eye on things' she declared with a
smile. Neville waved good-bye, and with a smile from Luna, he Apparated back home.

Getting back, he went into his darkened house, and lit some lamps. He was tired, and was planning
on going to bed right away, so he only lit one or two of the lamps.

Hanging up his coat, he called Mandrake, but as usual, he did not come. *Probably still upset at
me for leaving* he figured.

Walking in to the kitchen, as he reached for a glass something ran past his legs. Twisting around
quickly, the glass in his hand falling and smashing to the ground, he struggled with his wand,
before casting a Lumos spell, to see the culprit.

`Oh, now you come down' Neville stated to his cat, which looked up at him like he did nothing
wrong. Neville looked to the broken glass on the floor, and sighed angrily as he ran his wand over
and the glass came back together.

`Look what you did Mandrake. Sometimes I do wonder why I keep you' he insisted, as Mandrake
came forward and rubbed against his leg. Neville's anger died, and he picked his cat up and pat
him.

The cat purred softly, and Neville smiled, until a sound came from another room.

Neville kept the cat in his hands, and started to walk forward—his Lumos spell still cast. Neville
hated nighttime, because of all the shadows and strange sounds. He was one of those kids that
always needed a night-light, and even though he was an adult and fully-fledged wizard, he still got
scared in the depths of the night. The reminder of being all alone in the house—with the exception
of his temperamental cat—out in the middle of nowhere did not help his attitude.

Walking forward, his steps creaked on the floorboards as he moved in the direction of where the
noise came from. He lit more lamps as he moved forward, but tried to stay relaxed. After all, it
was doubtful an evil wizard was outside his door. Chances were, it was just a muggle teenager, or
even some animal.

Hearing the sound again—something like a door hitting its frame—Neville moved slower towards the
back of his house. The moonlight shone through the windows, and cast shadows here and there.
Walking further in, he could see the cause of the noise, just as the door slammed against the frame
again. Mandrake became frantic at the sound, and scratched Neville as he escaped his grasp.

`Ah! Damn cat!' Neville cursed, as he looked back at the door. Simply put, the screen door at
the back entrance was open, and banging against the door frame with the light wind pushing
it.

Neville hastily opened the door, and latched the screen door shut. Closing the inner door, he
locked it, turned, but stopped short. Turning back around, he put his wand to the lock and thought
for a moment.

`Was it locked in the first place?' he asked himself aloud, looking at the door, then turning
around quickly to look at the room. The back room was like a summer dinning room, but since it was
spring, they still had some boxes and other things stored there.

Dropping his shoulders, he sighed with his own frustration, and looked to the ceiling. He could not
believe that he was getting all jittery over an open screen door.

Walking out of the room, he extinguished the lamps he lit earlier, and got that drink of water he
had planned in the first place. Mandrake was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, and
Neville brought the water with him upstairs to the bedroom. Mandrake trotted up before him, and
giving the dark downstairs one more look, he walked upstairs with a candle lamp.

Walking into his room, he put the lamp down, and put his wand down on his nightstand. Mandrake was
already getting himself settled on top of the sheets of the bed, as he always did, and Neville
pulled on the sheets and made him move as usual. He figured Mandrake would have known this to
happen every night, but this was where that lack of short-term memory played against Neville.

Climbing into bed, he heard another creak from the house, and looked to the doorway. One thing he
disliked about being alone in a house like this was, well, being alone in a house like this. The
creaks and bits of noise that came from it at nighttime—which were intensified it seemed by the
lack of other senses available—were even more apparent when one was alone in the house.

Dropping his glance at the doorway, he put the candle back down and sighed. Mandrake, who had
decided to stay off the bed rather than try to get back on, looked at the doorway, and trotted out
and down the dark hallway. Neville and Laurel kept the door open at night so Mandrake could come
and go as he pleased, and it did not mind Neville. Mandrake seemed happier when Laurel was there
anyways, so he would enjoy not having to deal with a disgruntle cat in the morning.

Lying back, Neville tried again to calm down. Another creak from the hallway found Neville's
ears, but he blamed it on the cat. Now that Mandrake was out of the room, he could at least be a
reason to which Neville could put to the noises, aside from the light wind outside.

Giving a yawn, he turned his mind to the coffee he would be having with Padma, and the meal with
Luna and Ron, and put out the candle. The room was thrown into darkness, with the dull moonlight
creeping in through the curtains.

His hands tingled as his eyes tried to adapt to the darkness, and the odd creak here and there just
seemed to scare him more. He did feel like a six year old, but as before, he hated the darkness.
Something about the unknown, and the fact that he could not see what was two feet in front of him,
it bothered him a lot.

Closing his eyes, he laid back and again, tried to relax himself. There was nothing to worry about,
and he knew in the morning he would slap himself for getting all worked up over the noises caused
by an old house.

Exhaling slowly, a thud—not a noise, but a clear thud—came from the hallway. Neville shot up
instantly, and grabbed his wand, lighting the room. The noise was too bothersome just to attribute
to the cat, and wind could not have made that noise, so with a frustrated sigh, he got out of bed,
and went to the doorway.

Looking down the hallway, he saw two yellow, reflective eyes look at him from the top of a table in
the hall. Evidently, Mandrake decided the floor was too good for him, and he jumped onto the table
top.

`Again, why do I keep you?' Neville asked, the cat still looking at him, as if telling him he
was bothering him. Neville sighed, and went back into his room.

Laying back down, he extinguished his wand, and placed it back on the nightstand. He could hear the
cat dropping off the table with another thud, and trotting down the stairs. Neville shook his head
at his idiot cat's movements, and turned on his side to get to sleep.

Hearing the quietness of the house—if you could believe it—Neville began worrying about the lack of
sound. What he would do to live in the city, where there is constant noise, or have numerous people
in the house.

Rolling over, he reached for his wand, and his hand landed on the table top. Panic set in quickly,
and he began searching for his wand in the darkness. Figuring it fell on the floor, he moved to the
edge of his bed, and began searching for his wand on the floor.

More panic set in and his blood turned to ice as he could not feel his wand. He threw open his
sheets, and went onto the ground to find his wand. There was still no sound going on in the house
aside from the noises he was making, but he needed to find his wand. It was the one security he had
in this darkness.

Looking about, he heard now a sound from the hallway. Not a thud, not a thump, but rather a
shuffle. Realizing his wand was not there, he figured he must have dropped it in the hallway. He
was tired, and he could not remember precisely if he had it with him when he hopped back into
bed.

Looking down the dark hallway, the moonlight shed some light and allowed him to see the top of the
stairs, where a lump was on the floor. Neville figured that Mandrake had caused one of the plants
on the table-top to fall, and that it was what caused the sound. Moving closer however, his fingers
shivered and his chest hollowed as he saw that the lump had fur.

Running towards, Neville knelt down and gasped as he found it was Mandrake. He was dead, his eyes
still open, looking down the stairwell. Tears began to form in Neville's eyes, but as he looked
down the stairwell, horror filled his mind.

A man stood at the bottom of the stairs, the deep blackness of his face, set into the shadow os his
hood, looking up at Neville. He was wearing a dark cloak with a hood, so Neville could not tell who
it was, but it did not matter.

Neville, his mind filled with fear, ran down the dark hallway, and back into his room. He still did
not have his wand, and he was moving about frantically to try and find it. He could hear the light
footsteps of the intruder coming closer to the room, and as the panic overwhelmed him, he began to
fight with the window latch to escape that way.

`Com'on! Open dammit!' he yelled, as he kept looking back at the doorway. He had locked the
door, but as he looked back again—when the footsteps stopped—he could see the lock slowly
turning.

Neville knew it was no use with the window, and watched as the door slowly opened, to reveal
darkness beyond it. The dark cloaked figure entered Neville and Laurel's bedroom, and Neville
tried desperately to maintain his sanity.

`Who are you, what do you want!' Neville yelled, as his eyes kept on the figure. He was still
trying to look for his wand, but at this point it was hopeless.

The figure kept silent, and moved closer to Neville. He backed into the windowsill, and his heart
continued to thunder in his chest as the figure approached. The cloaked man raised his wand—Neville
now realizing this was indeed a wizard—and Neville was frightened beyond comprehension.

`Who are you?' he asked shakily, noticing the man's wand pointing square at his chest.
Neville tried to make out the man's face, but it was impossible in the darkness. His thoughts
began however to punish him for not having his wand in his hand all the time, instead of loosing
it.

The cloaked man laughed harshly at the question, and took a step forward. 'I am your
executioner Longbottom.' The voice was rasp, but Neville realized it sounded familiar.

The cloaked man—keeping his wand trained on Neville—removed his hood, and Neville fell backwards on
to the floor in shock.

'No! It- It can't be!' he whispered in horror, looking up at the man's face. *It
can't be, of for the love of Merlin let it not be him!*

The cloaked man laughed menacingly again, his red eyes looking at Neville on the floor. 'Oh it
is. I am the Emerald Phoenix, and you are the first of many who will die at my wand.'

A frightened tear escaped Neville's eye as he realized what would come next. He thanked Merlin
that Laurel was not at home, and he prayed that his unborn baby would be safe, not growing up to
know its father.

`Avada Kedavra!'



**Spell/Name Meanings:**
**Laurel** - Latin: Laurus - "Laurel" (a tree)
**Mandrake** - As we all should remember, those lovely plants Harry and the othes played around
with in second year.
**Ethan** - Hebrew: "Solid, enduring"
**Cameron** - Gaelic: cam - "crooked", sròn - "nose" (Cameron = Crooked
nose)

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2. The Phoenix Mark
-------------------



**A/N - Alright folks, here you go, chapter two! We get to see some of the other characters
here. This chapter starts the ball rolling with the investigation. I do hope you all enjoy it, and
please review and let me know your thoughts. :)**

**Chapter Two**


*The Phoenix Mark*


Walking along the dirt path, Harry looked up into the green canopy above him that glittered with
the drizzled sunrays that dodged the leaves and made it to his eyes. The trees were dense, but the
path moved through them easily. Hearing a giggle, he looked ahead and found the bouncing sway of
brown hair moving behind a tree and down the path. Harry beamed happily and jogged down the path in
hopes of catching the mischievous girl.

Turning down the bend, he stopped as he looked ahead and found the path empty. A bird chirped
nearby, and he looked up to the trees again before looking again down the path.

`AHHH!' someone screamed behind him, and Harry turned quickly. A body fell against him—along
with a mass of bushy brown hair—and he, along with the person, fell on the path.

`Hermione!' Harry shouted as he hit the ground. His head fell in the brush, but he was all
right, and the dirt broke his fall. Hermione was laughing beyond control, and looking at
Harry's face just made it worse.

`Oh, you think it's funny, eh?' he asked devilishly, reaching to her waist and beginning to
tickle her. She started laughing even more, trying to fight back, but it was not working.

`You think it's funny?' Harry asked again, laughing himself as she continued to try and
fight back. Harry finally gave up with the tickling, laughing at how cute Hermione looked with her
feeble fight against his onslaught of tickles. That, and he wanted to stop before she started
tickling him back.

Hermione beamed delightfully at Harry as he moved his arms to the small of her back, and he pushed
firmly against her. She was still catching her breath, and she took deep breaths as she moved her
hands up his chest and to his face.

Harry smiled at her as her warm brown eyes looked his face over for a moment. The wind gave a
gentle breeze that shook the mass of green leaves above them in the trees, and the light gush
wafted the wonderful aroma of honeysuckle from Hermione's hair in Harry's direction.

His hand pulled on her gently, and Hermione smiled again, before lowering, and the two kissed.
Harry moved his hands up her back and reached under her shirt, feeling the softness of her bare
back against his palms. He traced about with his fingers, and a giggle escaped Hermione's
mouth. Harry felt a surge of passion run through his veins with the reaction, and he smiled as he
deepened their kiss with a fiery lust.

The snogging session was quickly turning hot, when all of a sudden Harry felt something soft hit
him in the face.

`Wake up, Harry!' someone yelled. Harry sat up quickly, looked about, and found he was in a
small bedroom with a Quidditch poster on one wall, and a nice window with curtains on another. He
was in a bed with the sheets all mismatched and strewn about—some actually on the floor more than
the bed.

*It was a dream?* He questioned himself, glancing to see that it was a pillow that had hit
him. He heard someone working about in the kitchen and was about to ask who it was when the person
turned the corner.

`Harry, com'on, hurry up!' Hermione said, coming around the doorway and walking in. She was
busy getting things out, and seemed to be picking out a wardrobe for Harry.

`Hermione, what- . . . what are you doing?' he asked, wiping his eyes. He took a glance at his
clock, and saw the time. 6:36 am.

`Com'on, hurry up, we need to get to the scene,' she insisted, throwing a shirt on
Harry's messed up bed. Harry, in the mean time, fell backwards onto his bed and sighed
tiredly.

`Hermione, I'm on vacation. For the next two weeks I don't go to any scenes,' he
grumbled, turning over and readjusting his pillow.

`Urg, Harry, com'on!' she ranted, not bothering with the clothes, and instead whisking her
wand at the bed. All the sheets flew off the bed, and Harry was left on it with his pillow and his
pajama pants.

`Hermione! What's going on, I'm on vacation!' he argued aggressively. He looked up at
Hermione and found her blushing at Harry. Harry quickly found what caused the reaction, and sat up
quickly.

`You're not on vacation anymore. Hurry up, Kingsley ordered me to come and get you,' she
explained, throwing the clothes at him.

`Can you at least tell me what's going on?' Harry asked as he put the shirt on. Hermione
lowered her head and glanced at Harry.

`It's Neville.'

`What about him?' Harry asked, seeing the grave look on her face.

`Neville's dead.'

`What?' Harry whispered in shock. `Neville, our Neville, from Hogwarts?' he
questioned.

`Yes, Harry, Neville Longbottom. He was killed last night, at his house. Kingsley wants you there
because there's something he thinks you need to see.'

With the information, Harry realized the importance, and got dressed quickly. Hermione waited for
him at the doorway, and Harry quickly used the washroom and grabbed his wand and cloak before
meeting with her.

`I'm sorry I was being a prat earlier,' Harry confessed, Hermione giving him a kiss.

`It's all right. I can tell it was a good dream, it's just . . . I can't believe
Neville's dead. I thought we were done with all the deaths,' Hermione admitted as they
walked down the stairs.

Harry had a flat in West London, and to Apparate, he usually went to a nearby alleyway. Apparating
in the flat, Harry found out, usually made other tenants call the landlord, thinking an electrical
outlet broke or a pipe burst. Of course since magic and electrical appliances do not really work
well together, sometimes those things would actually occur when Apparating.

`I know, Hermione, I know,' Harry reassured, giving her hand a squeeze. `And it was a good
dream, you were in it.'

Hermione smirked slightly at this, but it was not long lived. It was hard for Harry to smile too,
as the knowledge that Neville was gone was slowly sinking in.

`Is Ron there?' Harry asked as they came to the alleyway. It was a narrow corridor between two
fire routes, so almost no one ever walked down there. They walked to about the middle of the
alleyway, and moved next to the dumpster.

`Yes, he got there last night. He was on watch, and the curse was detected at Neville's.
He's been there for hours, but we need to get there quick. Kingsley said they needed to get rid
of something soon, but you need to get there first.'

Harry understood, and glanced up and down the alley. The coast was clear, and letting go over
Hermione's hand, he kissed her quickly, and the two of them turned abruptly. The siphoning of
Apparation pushed against each of them as they vanished, and a loud crack resounded in the desolate
alley.

Landing on the front porch, the two Aurors scared the daylights out of several other Ministry
officials outside.

`Sorry,' Harry admitted, running his hand through his messy hair. He did not have the time to
even shower before getting there, so he looked rather ragged and rough shaven.

He and Hermione walked into the house and found several Aurors walking about, running over all the
furniture and items with their wands. There were conversations coming from upstairs, and just as
Harry glanced about, Ron Weasley came down the stairs.

`Hey,' he expressed quietly, reaching the bottom of the stairs. Harry could easily see how
tired he was, the bags under his eyes weighing heavily on this sleepy eyes. He had been on duty
since seven the night before, and it was already twelve hours later. He started work when the sun
still had not set, and now it had already risen again on a new day.

`Where is he?' Harry asked, feeling a pang in his chest. Harry had only been in Neville's
house once, and that was when he and his fiancée—now his wife—got the house in the first place. He
felt horrible realizing how he had neglected seeing Neville more. He worked at the Ministry; it
would not have been hard to see him.

`He's upstairs in the bedroom. Seems someone got in the house, killed the cat, and then him. We
couldn't find his wand, and when we got here, everything was locked up,' Ron
explained.

`What about his wife? Umm, Laurel, right?' Hermione asked, Harry nodding.

`She's with Luna right now. Once we found out what happened, we got a runner to let her know,
and she came back right away. She's devastated,' Ron professed.

`We should go and see her after we're done here,' Harry insisted, the other two
nodding.

Ron led the way as Harry and Hermione walked up the steps. A dead cat lay at the top of the stairs,
its eyes wide open staring into nothingness. Hermione choked a bit at the sight, no doubt reminded
of Crookshanks back at her flat, and they slowly moved around the deceased cat. Moving down the
hallway, all the doors were locked, and several Aurors were standing outside the only open door. A
tall dark skinned man walked out of the room, and turned towards the three Aurors.

`Harry, I am sorry to pull you away from your vacation-` Kingsley started.

`It's all right sir, I understand,' Harry reassured.

`All right. Thank you, Hermione, for getting him so quickly. Be warned when you enter, you're
going to hear something,' Kingsley said. He turned, and walked into the bedroom, while Harry
gave Hermione and Ron a disturbed look, and followed. Crossing the threshold, a distant sounding
voice reached Harry's ears.

*`I am the Emerald Phoenix, and you are the first of many who will die at my wand.'*

Harry turned to Hermione, and her eyes were wide with shock. It was obvious she heard it too.

`What was-` Harry started.

`The message?' Kingsley asked, Harry and Hermione nodding. `It seems to be a spell cast on the
room. When someone enters the room for the first time, they hear it. We're trying to lift the
spell, but it's complicated.'

Harry gave a worried glance to Hermione, and continued forward. Inside the room, there was a bed
and a few other normal bedroom things: a lamp, a nightstand, and a few other pieces of furniture.
Moving around the bed, Harry's eyes fell on a leg, then a torso, and finally the body of
Neville Longbottom.

It had been a while since Harry had seen him. He had lost some weight, and had his hair shorter. It
made him look thinner than before.

He was wearing clothes that looked to be for bed, and the open sheets would agree that he was
asleep when whoever came in here did the act. Harry looked about and found the curtains were drawn,
and trying the windows, they were all locked.

`So . . . someone, this Phoenix fellow, just came in, and . . . and killed him?' he asked,
still unpleasant with the reality of it all. One of his closest friends from Hogwarts, a man who
saved his life in that attack on Hogwarts, and who found him before anyone else in the dungeons,
was dead.

`It appears so. We checked the spell ratio in this room, and it's clear only two spells were
cast in here, and the total is very strong. A Killing Curse is the obvious choice, since this echo
spell or whatever is not that strong,' Kingsley explained.

`But who would do this? I thought we got all the major Death Eaters?' Hermione questioned, a
tear threatening to spill as she looked at Neville's lifeless body.

`We did, Hermione, you guys did as well as the Auror Department, but this guy could be anyone. Of
course it doesn't help that he has a name for himself and a mark,' Kingsley
mentioned.

`A mark?' Harry asked, Ron looking at Harry surprisingly.

`Blimey, Harry, you didn't see it?'

`See what?' Harry asked. Ron looked at Kingsley, and he nodded. Ron ushered Harry and Hermione
out of the room with Kingsley following, and the three Aurors and the Supervisor moved back down
the stairs and out the front door into the morning sunlight.

`What am I going to see?' Harry asked again, looking at Ron as they moved away from the
house.

`That,' Ron said, turning around and looking at the house. Harry turned and literally took a
step back in shock at the sight.

Above Neville's small home, a massive green bird made of emerald flames lorded over the roof
with a sinister nature, the flames licking off the shingles and up into the pale dawn sky. As the
bird arched its head up, Harry could see the kind of bird it was, and it sent shivers down
Harry's spine.

`A phoenix?' he remarked.

`Yes. This “Emerald Phoenix” seems to be taking after You-Know-Who,' Kingsley maintained.
Although Voldemort was destroyed years ago, some people, like Kingsley, still had a hard time
saying his name.

Harry watched as the phoenix extended its wings over the roof and opened its mouth, giving off a
call like that of a ghostly bird of prey, which seemed to pierce his soul and hollow his
chest.

As Harry scanned the bird, hearing the sound of the phoenix and watching it closely, his scar
burned hotly for the first time in years, and he grabbed his forehead in pain.

`Harry? Harry, are you all right?' Hermione questioned, looking at Harry and back again at the
phoenix.

Kingsley quickly moved forward and vanished the bird with a complicated move of his wand. The pain
subsided in his scar, and Harry let go of his forehead and looked at Kingsley. The Supervisor gave
a sigh and walked towards him.

`Any ideas who it could be?' Kingsley asked. Harry could tell Kingsley thought he knew more
about this killing because of his scar, and Harry did have an idea who it could be, but he was not
ready to admit that guess. It could not be true anyway.

`No. Perhaps it's a copy cat, trying to play off the Dark Mark?' he offered. Kingsley
pondered it for a moment, before looking back at the house for a moment.

`All right. I wanted to hear your thoughts on this, but things are fine. Ron, go on home and see
your wife and check up on Neville's wife. Hermione, you take the day off if you'd like, and
Harry, you're already on vacation.'

`Sir, I think we all really want to work on this case. Neville was our friend, and we need to find
out who did this,' Hermione urged, Harry nodding, along with Ron, though he did it a bit slower
because of the sleepiness.

`Yeah, sir, I'll take time off after this if it's all right. We owe it to Neville to find
out,' Harry stated.

`O.K., Ron, still go home and get some sleep. Harry, Hermione, go and check up on Neville's
wife, and talk to Ron's wife. It seems she was the last person to see Neville alive. Report
back to the Ministry at four o'clock.'

`Yes, sir,' they answered—again, Ron a bit tiredly compared to the others—and Kingsley went
back into the house. The memory of that phoenix over the house still gave Harry the wiggles, and
from one look at Hermione, he could tell the same thoughts were running through her head, as well
as Ron's.

The three of them, without a word, Apparated to Ron's house, and walked inside to find
Luna—still wide as ever—trying to console a deeply distraught woman.

Harry knew this was Laurel. Her long auburn hair was a clear give-away. She was a short girl, but
had a very nice figure and Harry found her to be very cute. At first Harry had to admit he was
surprised Neville got such a beautiful girl, but he did not resent it. Neville deserved a girl like
that, and besides, there was much more to a girl than her looks. Harry could tell they were made
for each other when she mentioned she grew up on a farm and enjoyed plants. That just sealed the
deal for the two of them.

But at the moment, the two of them were no more. Harry could not even comprehend the sadness she
must have felt, learning her husband had been killed so abruptly in a time of peace.

Laurel heard the door close behind Ron, and she looked up at the group. Harry's heart wrenched
as he saw her cheeks covered in tears from her blue eyes, and her hands shaking as she looked at
Harry and the others.

Hermione moved around to give Laurel support, placing her hand on Laurel's shoulder. As Harry
took a step forward, Laurel stood suddenly and with tears still streaming down her face, she took
two steps towards Harry, and he knew what to do. He compassionately opened his arms, and he gave
her a hug as she continued to cry and sob profusely.

Harry stroked her back warmly as he glanced over and found Hermione crying as well. The full
realization of Neville's death was now hitting all of them, and with a small wave, Hermione
walked over and embraced Laurel and Harry.

Luna and Ron quickly followed, and the four wizards consoled their Muggle friend. Luna was one of
the few who went to Neville and Laurel's wedding, and she knew her well.

The group let go slowly, and Harry and Luna helped Laurel in to her seat. She was still crying, but
her tears were running out. She hiccuped at odd intervals, and Hermione tried to help by summoning
a glass, and filling it with water. Laurel accepted, but did not take a drink.

`We're so sorry Laurel,' Ron expressed solemnly. She looked down at her feet for a moment
before nodding and placing her hands on her face.

Harry and the others took seats around her and continued to comfort her as best as possible. She
calmed down slowly, but of course it was a horribly sad time for everyone. She explained how she
had found out, and more tears came as she spoke of their future plans, finally coming to a tidal
wave of sadness when mentioning she was two months pregnant.

`Then part of him will live on,' Luna cooed to her friend, Laurel taking hold of her hand and
squeezing it gently.

`Oh Luna,' she whispered, sniffing as she looked at her friend. `You always had a way of
looking at things. Neville likes-` she stopped, realizing the wrong tense. She took a breath, and
closed her eyes, pushing forward. `Neville always liked that about you.'

Laurel gave the shadow of a smile, and Luna reached over and the two hugged each other
tightly.

`Harry, can I talk to you for a second?' Hermione asked as she looked over. Harry nodded his
head slowly, and the two gave warming touches to Laurel's shoulders before walking around the
corner. They just got around when they heard Ron leaving as well, and joining them.

The three of them sighed together as they looked at each other, then down at the floor.

`Do you think she'll be alright?' Ron asked.

`Laurel's a tough woman, she'll be O.K. It just takes time, and support,' Hermione
assured. Harry looked again at the floor and rubbed his scar as the memory of the Emerald
Phoenix's call rang through his mind, and the appearance of Neville on his bedroom floor moved
in front of Harry's eyes like a haunting shadow.

`Your scar hurt when you saw that phoenix, didn't it?' Hermione declared, Harry looking at
her and dropping his hand.

`If your scar burned, then-`

`I know, Ron, I know. He's dead though, and it wasn't the Dark Mark,' Harry
insisted.

The three of them stood in silence as the quiet murmurs of Luna and Laurel reached their ears.
Harry was trying to understand the whole situation himself.

`What if we missed something,' Hermione feared.

`Hermione, we got all the Horcruxes, and I defeated him! Voldemort's dead, it can't be
him,' Harry maintained. There had to be another reason for his scar burning when he saw the
phoenix.

`Why else would your scar burn? It has to be Voldemort,' Hermione asserted.

Harry was not ready to believe such a statement. He did have to agree that his scar burning could
have something to do with Voldemort, but it was a far reach.

`It can't be him, Hermione. We destroyed him. Maybe just seeing the green mark above the house
reminded me of the Dark Mark, and my scar tingled a bit,' Harry offered.

`Harry, your scar burned, I saw. And you know full well that did not look close to the Dark
Mark,' Hermione insisted.

`But how could it still be Voldemort? How could he still be around? And why wouldn't he just
cast the Dark Mark, instead of all this “Emerald Phoenix” rubbish?' Ron questioned.

The situation was strange indeed. If Harry's scar always burned because of Voldemort, and
Voldemort was dead, how could it burn again years later? Harry was sure Voldemort could not be
alive anymore. But, even if somehow Voldemort did survive—though highly unlikely in Harry's
opinion—would he not use his normal name? Casting the Dark Mark would have caused a lot more terror
in the Wizarding World, since it had not been seen for over three years.

`Perhaps we're dealing with something different,' Hermione offered distantly.

`What do you mean?' Harry asked, Hermione leaning over to see how Laurel and Luna were doing.
They were sitting, talking quietly, and the three looked back at each other.

`Maybe we missed a Horcrux,' she stated, Harry not being able to keep his sigh in.

`Hermione, we got them all: the diary, the locket, the cup, the ring, the sword, the snake, and
Voldemort himself. We got them all, all seven of them!' Harry boasted.

`Yes, but we weren't sure about the snake. Remember what Dumbledore said, he thought the snake
*could* be a Horcrux, we were never totally sure,' Hermione articulated.

`But you saw what happened when the snake died. It was the same with all the other Horcruxes; we
used the Proliatentia Trinity, and the green mist rose out. You saw the soul getting sucked by the
Dementor, just as the spell means,' Harry reminded, Hermione nodding all the while.

`Yes, Harry, but what if something went wrong? What if that wasn't Voldemort's soul, and
there's still a Horcrux out there?' she questioned.

`How could it not have been Voldemort's soul?' Harry asked, his voice exasperated with
Hermione's continual belief that a Horcrux still existed.

`We never saw what the spell would do to a normal creature, so how do we know it was
Voldemort's soul and not the snake's?' she asked.

`Because we know! Hermione, Dumbledore said the snake made the most sense. What else would be a
Horcrux? We got every item Dumbledore thought would be a Horcrux, and he knew everything about
them! Why do you think Voldemort got so furious when he saw the snake was dead?' Harry
questioned, some temper getting into his voice. He knew Hermione would stick to her theory, even if
Harry himself found no reason to believe it.

`Maybe the Horcrux was something else. We never looked outside Dumbledore's ideas. He was not a
seer; he was fallible just as you and I,' Hermione pointed out.

`You're going off thinking this killer is some brought back version of Voldemort from a phantom
Horcrux. You're ignoring the first rule in solving a magical crime: keep it simple,' Harry
reminded.

`All right, Harry, all right,' Hermione said, backing down with her idea. `Just keep it in
mind. The connection to Voldemort is just too close to be a coincidence.'

`That's why I thought it was a copy cat. The Dark Mark was well known, so perhaps this killer
is trying to mimic Voldemort,' Harry offered.

`But why the phoenix, and why Neville?' Ron questioned.

`Maybe this killer wants to flaunt or steal fame. The Order of the Phoenix is well known now in
Britain, because of their involvement at Hogwarts. And like Harry said, perhaps he's trying to
mimic the Dark Mark,' Hermione added. `As to Neville . . .'

`Maybe the killer is an escaped Death Eater, or someone who was at Hogwarts. Neville played an
important part in defending Hogwarts. It could be someone who wanted Neville dead from that.
Perhaps Laurel might know if he got any threatening letters or notes,' Harry pondered.

`Speaking of whom, we should go back. We'll talk about this more later,' Hermione proposed.
The two men agreed, and Ron led the way back into the kitchen, Hermione and Harry following.

Walking back in, Harry's mind reminded him of the phoenix above the house, and his mind turned
to dark thoughts. Could Hermione be right? Could they have missed a Horcrux, and someone had found
it? Or was it a copy cat killer, trying to mimic Voldemort?

Regardless of who it could be, Harry decided to take focus on Neville's widowed wife. Tear
streaks were imprinted on her cheeks, and as Harry and the others took their seats around the
table, she looked at Hermione, then Harry.

`Will you find who did this Harry?' she asked quietly.

`I promise, Laurel, we'll find who did this,' Harry asserted, taking her hand and glancing
at Hermione.



**A/N - So, thoughts? How do you find the story line so far? Do have you wondering who the Emerald
Phoenix is, and what his plans are? Oh, believe me folks, there are plans. Rather evil ones
actuals. :)

Please review!**

**Spell/Name Meanings:**
**Proliatentia Trinity** - L. proeliator - warrior/knight, potentia - power, trinity = a group
of three (a triad) (Proliatentia Trinity = The Power of the Three Knights) (this spell is used by
the trio (Harry, Hermione, and Ron) on a Horcrux. They point their wands at the Horcrux, and use
the spell to lift the soul out of the object. The spell also acts as a call for dementors, and when
they come, they are drawn to the soul, and proceed to suck it from the air until nothing remains.
Thus, the Horcrux is destroyed.)

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