Chapter 347: Fawkes
The applications of the Undetectable Extension Charm were vast and legendary.
In the years to come, Hermione would carry a small beaded handbag capable of holding a library of books, changes of clothes, a full-sized tent, healing potions, Slytherin's Locket, and the Sword of Gryffindor. That single bag would prove vital during the long, arduous journey Harry, Ron, and Hermione would take to hunt down Voldemort's Horcruxes.
Then there were the tents used by the Weasley family—shabby, two-person Muggle shelters on the outside that revealed themselves to be multi-room apartments with full kitchens on the inside. Or Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia, which he had charmed to comfortably seat eight people, six large trunks, two owls, and a rat.
But perhaps the most famous example was the suitcase owned by Sean's distinguished upper-year, Newt Scamander. The interior of that case was a sprawling sanctuary containing multiple distinct ecosystems designed to house and protect a menagerie of magical beasts.
Speaking of magical beasts...
On the third floor of the castle, Sean walked into the Headmaster's office. Inside the spacious, circular room, the portraits of former Headmasters were almost all dozing. Sean wasn't alone, however.
Perched on a high golden stand behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled nothing so much as a half-plucked turkey.
"Mr. Phoenix," Sean addressed the bird.
A clear, melodic hum filled the room, sounding like a snippet of a song. Sean surreptitiously reached into his pocket and fed Fawkes a handful of herbs—dried narcissus petals and powdered aconite root.
[Alert: You have gained the affinity of the magical creature Phoenix (Fawkes) at an Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
Hearing the system chime, Sean's feeding gestures became even more devoted. Raising his affinity with Fawkes was a grueling process. Despite his frequent "clandestine" visits to the office, this was the first time he had actually gained a point.
As Sean watched, the phoenix suddenly stiffened. It fixed him with a piteous, watery look and let out a gagging, choking sound. It looked deathly ill. Its eyes were dull, and as Sean stared, a few more feathers drifted from its tail and settled on the floor.
The moment Sean finished feeding it, the bird suddenly erupted into a ball of flame. It looked for all the world as though Sean's treats had been the final, lethal blow.
Sean finally understood why Fawkes had looked so "happy" to see him.
The phoenix was now a miniature sun; it let out one sharp, final shriek and vanished, leaving nothing behind but a pile of smoldering ash on the floor.
"How terrifying—" Sean muttered, doing his best to look horrified.
He looked down and saw a tiny, wrinkled, and distinctly ugly baby bird poking its head out of the gray ashes. The chick let out a cross chirp and pecked at Sean's robes, looking as though it were accusing him of a very poor acting performance.
"My apologies, sir," Sean whispered.
[Alert: You have gained the affinity of the magical creature Phoenix (Fawkes) at an Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
The baby Fawkes gave its head a little shake and went back to picking through the ash for the remains of the herbs.
The office door swung open, and Professor Dumbledore walked in, letting out a soft, amused chuckle at the scene.
"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore," Sean said, choosing his words carefully. "Er—Professor—your phoenix just caught fire."
"It seems his appearance didn't confuse you for long," Dumbledore said, settling into the chair behind his desk. "But I suppose it was time. He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get on with it.
"I suspect you already knew, Mr. Green. Fawkes is a phoenix. When it is time for them to die, they undergo a 'Burning Day,' regenerating from their own ashes. You saw him just a moment ago... he was as ugly as an ancient bird can be. It's a shame you had to see him on his rebirth day."
Dumbledore smiled at Sean. "Most of the time, he is truly magnificent—covered in the most stunning scarlet and gold plumage. Phoenixes are extraordinary creatures, Sean. They can carry immense weights, their tears have powerful healing properties, and they are intensely loyal pets."
As Dumbledore spoke, he noticed the spark of intense curiosity in Sean's eyes.
This child, the Headmaster thought. He only truly reacts when confronted with the wonders of magic. Such an obsession in a boy this gifted... it is as inspiring as it is worrying.
Sean, meanwhile, was deciding that he really needed to spend more time in this office. Teleportation, heavy lifting, healing, rebirth... A phoenix possessed more incredible magic than almost any other creature. Sean even recalled that they were immune to the Killing Curse; the curse would simply force them into an early rebirth as a chick. During the battle at the Department of Mysteries, Fawkes had literally swallowed an Avada Kedavra to protect Dumbledore.
Unfortunately, despite his many visits and secret snack-offerings, his affinity with the bird was still abysmally low—only three points in total. He knew that for a creature as powerful as a phoenix, the ritual magic required for a biscuit would be the most complex project he had ever attempted.
But Sean had time. And he was a man very well-acquainted with the virtue of patience.
As he exited the office, the sky was a leaden grey. Christmas was nearly here, and Sean still didn't know if he would be permitted to leave the castle.
Inside the Office.
"Albus, Christmas is upon us," Minerva McGonagall said. She was standing by the window, watching the falling snow. She stepped forward and placed a leave request on the desk.
"Ah, of course. But..." Dumbledore glanced at the mountain of paperwork on his desk and blinked. "Severus has already submitted a detention request for that period. The duration is listed as..."
"From September 1st... until September 1st?" McGonagall read the form, her brow furrowing into a look of sheer disbelief. "No holidays. Every single year... this is absolute nonsense!"
She stared at Dumbledore, her silence a sharp demand for an explanation as to why he had even considered signing such a thing.
"Minerva, regarding your... domestic arrangements regarding the holidays, I feel I should not intervene too much," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands together. He glanced at his desk, a small smile playing on his lips. He still had a tray of Lemon Sherbets and Cockroach Clusters to attend to.
McGonagall gave the smiling Headmaster one final, sharp look before turning toward the door, clearly intending to march straight down to the dungeons.
"I mean, why not wait a moment?" Dumbledore suggested gently. "Severus is on his way up... something about the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."
"You cannot agree to that—it is a cursed post!" McGonagall snapped, turning back.
Just then, the door swung open, and a dark cloud of robes swept into the room. The tea kettle on the hearth began to whistle, and the circular room was soon filled with the sounds of a heated argument.
The atmosphere eventually descended into a tense, heavy silence.
It was into this silence that Professor Terra burst, her face alight with a joyous, triumphant grin.
[End of Chapter 347]
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