Public Issues (Demma Book 2)

The Phoenix and The Truth Behind The Chamber

Dateline: December 18th, 1992

They stepped off of the stone staircase and rapped on the door to Dumbledore's office. It opened silently, and they entered. Dumbledore's was by far the most interesting out of all the teachers' offices they'd visited so far this year. It was a beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered in portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby tattered wizard's hat -- the Sorting Hat.

"Bee in your bonnet, Potter and Granger?" said the small voice.

"I was just wondering if you'd put me in the right house," said Harry.

"Yes, you two were particularly difficult to place. But, I stand by what I said last year, 'You would've done well in Slytherin--'"

Their stomachs plummeted. They looked at the hat on the shelf before Hermione responded with, "You're wrong,"

A strange, gagging noise behind them made them wheel around from the hat. They weren't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. They stared at it, and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. It seemed very ill. Its eyes were dull, and, even as they watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.

All that they needed was for Dumbledore's pet bird to die while they were alone in the office with it when the bird burst into flames.

They backed away from the desk and looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere, but they couldn't see one. Then, suddenly, they heard a mysterious voice from atop the balcony.

"Harry, Hermione,"

"Professor," Harry gasped. "Your bird -- we couldn't do anything -- he just caught fire --"

"About time, too," Dumbledore smiled. "He's been looking dreadful for days. Pity you two had to see him on a Burning Day,

"Fawkes is a phoenix. They burst into flames when it is time for them to die, and they are reborn from the ashes."

They looked down to see a tiny, wrinkled newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one.

"Fascinating creatures, phoenixes," he said, hearing a knock on his front door. "They can carry immensely heavy loads."

The door flew open with an almighty bang, and Hagrid burst inside with a wild look in his eyes.

"It wasn't Harry an' Hermione, Professor Dumbledore!"

"Hagrid," he said calmly.

"In fact, I'd be prepared to swear in front of the Ministry of Magic!"

"Hagrid!" he said loudly. "Relax. I do not believe that Hermione and Harry attacked anyone."

"Well, of course, you don't and-" said Hagrid, now noticing Dumbledore hadn't been talking about the rooster attacks on the school grounds. "Oh, right. Well, I'll just wait outside then."

And he stomped out, looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was us, Professor?" Hermione repeated hopefully

"No, kids," said Dumbledore, though his face was sombre again. "But I still want to talk to you two. Is there something you wish to tell me?"

"No sir," said Hermione. "Nothing."