A/N: I'm BAAAAACK! My apologies to all of my faithful readers for the delay. The past six weeks of real life dragged me a way from my beloved computer, and of course my story. I am sorry for making you wait for so long. I decided to post this chapter before answering my reviews to make it up to you. So without much further ado, read on!
Chapter 48
The Giving of a Gift
Harry arrived back at his common room after lunch to find Albion sitting on his perch. He was surprised, since quite often the phoenix didn't come home until late in the evening.
"No parties today?" Harry teased as he flopped down on the couch. He was still a bit sore from today's session with Moody.
"On the contrary, it is a very special day," Albion said.
Harry looked up from the pillow he was laying on.
"Oh?"
"Today is Giving Day. That's why I'm here," Albion said.
"What's Giving Day?" Harry asked.
"It is the one day in a phoenix's life that he may bestow a Wand Feather upon the witch or wizard of his choosing."
"So, is that what Fawkes did for you? I mean, did he give one to you in your former life?" Harry asked, sitting up.
"Yes."
Harry frowned. "I don't understand. Ollivander said that Fawkes only gave two feathers, and one of them is in my wand. Do I have your wand…I mean, Dumbledore's wand?"
Albion looked at Harry and slowly blinked.
"I suppose you deserve to hear the whole story," Albion said.
Harry sat back and folded his arms across his chest.
"Yes," he said.
Albion ruffled his feathers and settled on his perch.
"Many years ago, when I was about your age, Fawkes gifted me with a Wand Feather on Giving Day. At the time, I was young and foolish, and did not treasure it, as I should. I knew it was priceless, but since I already had a wand, I didn't feel the need to rush off and have another one made. I left it on my dresser, where someone saw it."
"Who?"
"Someone who I thought was a friend. He also knew the value of a phoenix feather, and offered to buy it from me."
"So you sold it," Harry said.
"No. I didn't. Grindewald was quite upset with me."
"Grindewald? Wait a minute; his name was on your chocolate frog card! You fought him!"
"Sadly, you are correct, but that's a story for another day."
"So how did-"
"Patience! I'm getting to that. You need to understand the importance of Giving Day. When a phoenix bestows a feather upon a wizard, not only is he giving a piece of his magical core, but also he is giving it out of love and respect. This, combined with a wizard's magic can create an incredibly powerful wand."
"So how did Grindewald get the wand?" Harry asked.
Albion cocked his head and looked at Harry. "How can I finish my story if you keep interrupting me?"
Harry held up his hands in resignation.
"As I said, Grindewald was very angry with me. However, I underestimated my friend. He was determined to have a phoenix feather."
"He stole it?" Harry asked. "Sorry," he said, as he swore the phoenix frowned at him.
"He did something far worse. He took a feather from Fawkes."
"But I've seen Fawkes give you feathers before," Harry said.
"Those feathers, are what you would call normal phoenix feathers. Wand Feathers are different, and to take a feather not freely offered is a violation of some of our oldest laws. The Wand Feather becomes tainted, and quite often favors dark magic. Grindewald had a thirst for power, as I later found out, and channeled that desire into trying to rule our world."
"Sounds like someone else I know," Harry muttered.
"Pardon?" Albion asked.
"Nothing. So what happened?" Harry asked.
"I tried to reason with him, but by then his soul had been soured by dark magic and the thirst for power. The battle was gruesome, and in the end, Grindewald was lost, along with many others."
Harry could hear the sadness and pain in his words.
"And the wand?" Harry said.
Albion shook his head. "I never found it. I thought it had been destroyed during the battle. I felt that I was to blame for my friend's fall, and that I no longer deserved the Wand Feather. I gave it to Mr. Ollivander and told him to find someone more deserving of its magic. Imagine my surprise when the wand chose you," he said.
"I wonder how Voldemort came to have the other wand?" Harry asked.
"Mr. Ollivander seems to have a certain bond with his wands, almost like how one would have a bond with their familiar. Knowing him as I do, I'm sure he was able to find it and bring it back to his shop. He believes that his wands are incapable of dark magic; that it is the wielder who is dark."
"So he sold the wand to Voldemort, knowing what he was capable of?" Harry said.
"No, he sold it to a young boy named Tom who had yet to realize his full potential."
"He shouldn't have done that," Harry said as he rubbed his scar.
"We cannot change the past, Harry, and so there is no use dwelling there. Enough of that," Albion ruffled his feathers. "Harry Potter, I bestow upon you, a Wand Feather. Please accept my gift," Albion said.
Harry looked at him for a moment, briefly wondering how Dumbledore had felt in the same situation.
"I would be honored," he finally said. "What do I have to do?"
"Run your hands down my feathers. When you find the one that reacts to your touch, gently pull it out."
Harry approached Albion, who bowed and then turned his beautiful plumage towards him. Tentatively, Harry ran his hand down Albion's back, letting the softness of the feathers caress his fingers. They felt slightly warm, but nothing stood out. He let his hand travel lower, down the phoenix's magnificent tail. He had almost reached the end of the tail when he felt a jolt. It surprised him so much that he quickly pulled his hand away. He heard Albion chuckle.
He slowly reached out again, trying to figure out which feather it was. He noticed one feather had a bit more golden color in it, and as soon as his hand drew near, he could feel the energy crackling from the feather. He wrapped his fingers around it, and felt the jolt of electricity travel up his arm and through his body, making his hair stand on end. He gently pulled, and the feather came away easily. As soon as he had removed the feather, the crackling magic subsided slightly.
Harry looked at the feather, and then back at Albion in amazement. The amount of magical energy he had felt in the phoenix was incredible.
"Well, that was quite interesting," Albion said as he turned around.
"All that energy, how do you deal with it?" Harry asked in awe.
Albion cocked his head and looked at the feather in Harry's hand.
"It's a part of my life, as much as breathing and flying," he said as he began to preen his feathers. "Of course, Burning Days help to release some of it,"
"Thank-you for this," Harry said. "But I don't know were Mr. Ollivander is."
"Hm? Oh yes, I almost forgot," Albion said as he gave himself a final shake. "How does it look? Can you tell a feather is missing?"
Harry had to stifle a laugh. "No, its fine," he said.
Albion took one more look at himself as if to make sure, and Harry shook his head at the thought of his old headmaster becoming vain.
"Mr. Ollivander is at the Ministry. Quite paranoid, you know. The last time there was a war, we created a room for him to work in without the fear of attack. He's there now, on the ninth floor."
"That's the Department of Mysteries," Harry said.
"Of course!" Albion said. "What better place to hide someone."
Harry frowned, trying to remember the layout of the department.
"I don't remember any wand making room," he said.
"That's because you wouldn't have been able to get into a locked room," Albion said.
"You mean the room that you said holds the most powerful form of magic?" Harry said.
"Yes," Albion replied.
"And how am I supposed to get into this room now?" Harry asked.
"You hold the key. Use the feather to tickle the lock, the door will open," Albion replied. "Mr. Ollivander will probably be expecting you. He seems to know when there is a wand to be made."
Harry tucked the feather into the side pocket of his backpack, being careful not to crush it.
"Thank-you," he said to Albion again.
Albion bowed his head. "It is my pleasure," he said before turning to fly out the window.
Harry sat lost in thought, wondering how things could have turned out if Dumbledore had made different choices all those years ago. He didn't even realize that Hermione had come back until she wrapped her arms around him from behind.
"You look so far away," she said as she came and sat down beside him.
"Just thinking," Harry said, and he repeated Albion's story to her. "I was just wondering how things would have turned out if the feather had been made into a wand right away."
Hermione shrugged. "Who knows what might have happened. We can't change the past."
Shades of Dumbledore… Harry thought as he grinned at her. "You did."
"Yes, well, that was different. We were supposed to do that," Hermione said.
"Of course," Harry teased. "Since the rules don't apply to us, its all right to do it. How Hermione-ish of you,"
"Oh, honestly!" Hermione said as she jumped on him, trying to reach his ticklish spots, as Harry grabbed hold of her hands to stop her.
They wrestled back and forth for a few moments, each trying to get the upper hand, when they fell off the couch, laughing. Harry ended up on top, straddling Hermione, her hands pinned beside her head.
"Give up?" he grinned as he watched her struggle.
"Never," she laughed as she tried to unseat him.
Harry watched as her chest rose and fell with her struggle, and he suddenly became very aware of how their bodies were touching. Without thinking, he bent and claimed her lips, stilling her struggle. After a moment, Hermione began to kiss him back, and Harry released her arms and moved so that he was propped up on his elbow beside her. Hermione looked up into his eyes and shivered. She could see his passion for her burning in his eyes.
"I love you, you know," he whispered, as though in awe of his feelings.
"I know," Hermione said with a smile.
Harry leaned down and kissed her again, letting his hand roam down her side to her waist. He slowly worked his way over until he found the buttons of her shirt, and as he teased her mouth with his tongue, he began to flip open the buttons, one by one. He nuzzled her neck and worked his way down to the hollow at the base of her throat as he popped the last button free and pushed the material away from her body. He let his fingers trail across the soft skin of her stomach before finally gaining enough nerve to reach up and cup her breast through her bra.
"Harry…" Hermione whispered as she arched into his touch.
Harry kissed her again, with an urgency he hadn't felt before. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and a feeling of exhilaration came over him as Hermione reacted to his thumb gently brushing over the material covering her breast.
Hermione pulled him closer, running her hands up and down his back. When she got to his waist, she tugged at his shirt, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin. Harry sat up suddenly and pulled off his shirt, before laying back down to kiss her again.
Hermione let her fingers trace the lines along the muscles on Harry's back, before slowly letting her hands travel up and down, feeling his warm skin. She could feel where their bodies were touching, and it felt like an electrical current was flowing between them.
Harry couldn't get enough of her. The emotions coursing through him were so strange, and yet so exciting. He had never felt like this before. He poured all the love he was feeling into his kisses, because he knew that words would never be enough to tell her how he felt.
Suddenly the portrait door opened with a bang and Harry sat up quickly as he heard running feet.
"Harry! Come on mate! We've got the field! We're setting up a Quidditch game and…Bloody Hell!" Ron yelped, screeching to a halt and covering his eyes at the sight of Hermione scurrying to cover herself.
"I though we had an understanding!" Ron cried as he peeked through his fingers.
"A…what?" Harry said as he grabbed for his shirt.
"An understanding! You know! That you two wouldn't…you know…in front of me," Ron said.
"Oh for goodness sakes, Ron! We weren't doing that!" Hermione said as she straightened her shirt, her cheeks flushing.
"Not yet, anyways," Harry grumbled under his breath.
Hermione shot him a dirty look before getting up and moving over to the table. Harry sighed and got up; the mood was broken, again.
"What do you want, Ron?" he asked irritably as he tucked in his shirt.
Ron had been watching Hermione at the table, her back to the boys.
"What? Oh, um…yeah…Quidditch. We're…we're having a game, and we need our seeker…" he trailed off as he sidled over towards his bedroom. "That is, of course, if you want to…"
Harry sighed. He may as well, since nothing else was going to happen here, and he suddenly had a lot of pent up frustration.
"Give me five minutes, okay?" he said.
Ron's face lit up with relief. "Sure, yeah…great. I'll…I'll tell the rest that you're coming…"
His eyes widened at how his wording sounded, and he flushed. He grabbed his broom and almost tripped over himself in his haste to get away.
Harry smirked. It served him right. He turned and went to where Hermione was standing and wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"I'm sorry, luv," he said quietly. "I guess I just got carried away. You do that to me."
Hermione turned in his arms and put her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest.
"I was just as much to blame," she said. "Besides, I don't think I want my first time to be on the floor of a common room."
Harry gave a little laugh, relieved that she wasn't mad, and that there would be a next time.
"I love you," he said, and was amazed at how the words made him feel complete.
"I love you too," Hermione whispered, and Harry thought his heart would burst from the amount of happiness he felt.
"Come with me, you can cheer me on, or you can play," Harry said as he took her hand.
Hermione made a face and reached for her book. Harry took that as a `no' to playing Quidditch. He pulled her towards the entrance, grabbing his broom and their jackets on the way.
"I have a score to settle with a certain redhead," Harry said.
"What for?" Hermione asked, smiling.
"That's twice he's interrupted us. Maybe a few bumps and bruises will help him to think about knocking before he comes in next time," Harry said with a gleam in his eye.
Hermione laughed. "Give him one for me too," she said as she squeezed his arm. "That was actually interruption number three."
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