Not Again//Harry Potter [2]

16

The next morning, Autumn was in her dorm, staring at the ring on her finger. She hadn't been able to take it off, and it was bothering her immensely. Interrupting her thoughts, Autumn heard the voice again. She jumped out of bed and ran down out of the common room.

"Wait, Autumn—" She heard Hermione say, but she followed the voice instead.

"Kill. . .must kill. . ."

Autumn bolted down the steps, nearly running into a bunch of first years on their way back from class. She turned the corner to see Nearly Headless Nick, darker that the white he used to be. And he wasn't moving. And laying on the ground below him was Justin Flinch-Fletchly, petrified.

Autumn gasped, then head footsteps next to her. It was Harry. The two rushed over to Justin and checked if he was dead or not.

"He has a pulse," Autumn said quietly.

"Caught in the act!" Filch screamed. "I'll have you both out of school this time."

Autumn stared at him, wide eyed.

"No professor—"

"You don't understand—"

Filch wasn't having it; he ignored their replies as he waited for Dumbledore or a Professor to walk along.

Autumn looked at the window, looking for a way to explain this. Instead of a reason, she saw spiders fleeing from the window in an odd but familiar fashion.

"Harry, isn't that odd?" She pointed towards the spiders. Autumn realized she pointed with her left hand and she put it back in her pocket.

Professor McGonagall walked into the hallway. "My goodness," she muttered.

"I swear, Professor. It wasn't us. We walked in at nearly the same time—"

"I'm afraid that even if I believe you or not, it is out of my hands," Professor McGonagall looked almost guilty for them, but Autumn knew the Professor couldn't do anything. She took the two down a long corridor and the two found themselves staring at a gargoyle.

"Lemon drop!" Professor McGonagall said. 

The gargoyle suddenly split into two, and parted the wall in two showing a staircase.

The Professor lightly forced the two onto the stairs as she followed. The stairs sprung to life as the spiralled upwards.

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 the two to wait and left.

Autumn and Harry looked around.

"This must be Dumbledore's office." Harry said.

Autumn nodded. "Yes, it seems like it."

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. 

Autumn watched as Harry walked towards it.

"Bee in your bonnet, Potter?"

"Er, yes," Harry muttered. "Er -- sorry to bother you -- I wanted to ask—"

"You've been wondering whether I put you in the right House," said the hat smartly. "Yes. . . you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before. You would have done well in Slytherin—" 

Autumn took in this information, not particularly showing any signs that it surprised her. She knew Harry had a few Slytherin traits, but she never knew the Sorting Hat was considered to be in Slytherin.

"You're wrong," Harry said.

"Grey." The hat spoke. "Do you wish to know if you were supposed to be in Hufflepuff or not?"

Autumn looked at the ground, then back up at the hat. "No thank you." 

"Very well. . ." 

Then a strange, gagging noise behind the two made them wheel around. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey.  The two stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. The bird looked very ill, and a few feather flew out from the bird.

"Harry, do you see any bird food anywhere? I think he's hungry," Autumn spoke, walking towards the animal.

Autumn was about to pet the bird when it burst into flames. The two gasped in shock then both backed away. The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.

"Professor," Harry gasped. 

"I swear -- your bird -- it just caught fire—" Autumn explained, trying to understand what had just happened.

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

Autumn stared at the man in pure wonder.

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

Autumn looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. 

"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."

A loud noise was heard from the door as Hagrid ran in. 

"It wasn' Harry, Professor Dumbledore!" said Hagrid urgently. "I was talkin' ter him seconds before that kid was found, he never had time, sir—"

Dumbledore tried to say something, but Hagrid went ranting on, waving the rooster that was in his hands around in his agitation, sending feathers everywhere.

"—it can't've bin Autumn either, I saw her run right past me moments before, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have teh—"

"Hagrid, I—"

"—yeh've got the wrong kids, sir, I know they'd never—" 

"Hagrid!" said Dumbledore loudly. "I do not think that Autumn or Harry attacked those people."

"Oh," said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. "Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmaster." He stomped out looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was us, Professor?" Harry repeated hopefully as Dumbledore brushed rooster feathers off his desk.

Autumn looked at Dumbledore with the same astonishment.

"No, Harry, I don't," said Dumbledore, though his face was somber again. "But I still want to talk to you. Both of you."

"I must ask you, both of you, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," he said gently. "Anything at all."

Autumn thought about the Polyjuice potion, the notebook, Dobby's warnings, the ring, her notebook, and the voices from the walls.

"No," said Harry. 

"Nothing at all, Professor." Autumn shook her head.