The Other Black Book 2

Chapter 12 - The Polyjuice Potion

They stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Professor McGonagall rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered. Professor McGonagall told Harry and Aurora to wait and left them there, alone.

"Why'd she let me come?" Aurora asked him.

He shrugged. "Because you'd been with me both times we came across whatever these attacks are?"

Aurora wasn't sure either, and instead of deliberating in silence, she looked around the room. It was a large and 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 with 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.

Harry walked quietly around the desk and lifted the hat from its shelf.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Aurora asked, glancing around at the sleeping witches and wizards.

"I just want to put it on again. See if it put me in the right house."

"Why would you doubt it?" Aurora asked as Harry put the Hat on.

She didn't hear what the Hat was saying, nor what Harry was saying, until he grabbed the point of the hat and pulled it off. It hung limply in his hand, grubby and faded. He pushed it back onto its shelf.

"You're wrong," he said aloud to the still and silent hat. It didn't move. Harry backed away, watching it. Then a strange, gagging noise behind him made them both wheel around.

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. Aurora stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. She thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Aurora watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.

The bird burst into flames.

Aurora and Harry yelled in shock and backed away into the desk. Aurora barely missed it. She looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere but couldn't see one; the bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smoldering pile of ash on the floor.

The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.

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

To both their astonishment, Dumbledore smiled.

"About time, too," he said. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on."

He chuckled at the stunned look on Harry's face.

"Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him..."

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

"It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."

In the shock of Fawkes catching fire, Aurora had forgotten what they were there for, but it all came back to her as Dumbledore settled himself in the high chair behind the desk and fixed Harry with his penetrating, light-blue stare. He didn't say a word to Aurora, nor did he ask why she was there.