HEDWIG

CHAPTER NINE

THE GUARDIAN

Cecelia breathed in. The air around her seemed to have changed. And there was a scent - one that she knew well. She turned onto her side and pulled the pillow closer towards her chest, nuzzling it, she realized it smelled like Hogwarts. Smiling, she held it closer. Even though she knew she wasn't really there, it was a nice illusion.

But then... she remembered. Cecelia's eyes flew open. She was not in her cell at Azkaban anymore, but in her old bedroom at Hogwarts. She felt confused and disorientated. What had happened? How did she end up here?

But as the sun rose higher in the sky and flowed into her old bedroom, brightening everything around her, it was hard for her to think about Azkaban when she felt so at peace. She smiled, remembering all the years she'd spent here, chasing after Peeves and exploring the ancient tunnels of the castle. She remembered her private lessons with Professor McGonagall.

She remebered the first she'd ever laid eyes on Sirius Black. A rowdy boy with dark shaggy hair. He never seemed to notice the girls that flocked around him, but she certainly noticed when he started noticing her. Especially, since, well - no one was supposed to know she was there. Nevertheless, he had witnessed Cecelia shift into her animagus and vowed to keep her secret.

It had been a warm night in October,  the moon was bright in the sky. Cecelia had gotten an owl from Aberforth; asking if she would join him for dinner. She was running late and hurried out into the chilled night air, morphed into a snowy white owl, unaware of Sirius below, watching with wide eyes and an opened mouth as she disappeared into the clouds.

She wished she could relive her childhood. She always felt like nothing could touch her at Hogwarts - not even Death. It very seldom did. Only when the trees and flowers died.

"Good Morning," a voice suddenly spoke aloud and startled Cecelia.

Her eyes fell on the sparkling blues of her uncle's, Albus Dumbledore. He wore long white robes and his hair and beard appeared to be much brighter than she remembered. His half-mooned spectacles rested between the pages of an open book, and his smile beamed with happiness and contentment.

Cecelia, absolutely sure she was dreaming, stood up and slowly walked towards him all the same. She sat down in the chair directly in front of him. She was afraid to blink for fear he might disappear.

He smiled and reached out to touch the side of her cheek. Cecelia's eyes closed. She fought back tears as she realized she could feel his touch, as if he was alive, as if he was truly sitting in front of her. "How is this possible?" she asked, her eyes fluttering open, looking at him in bewilderment.

"Because you are possible," he said.

"Am I dead?" she asked, unable to comprehend anything that was happening. The only logical conclusion she could come to was that she had died sometime during the night.

Dumbledore frowned. "No, my Bird, you are not dead. I fear, and I regret that I never told you, that it is near to impossible for you to die. Killing curses nor age will destroy you. And it is for this reason I am here now. There are things you must know that I should have told you long before now."

Cecelia looked at him in silence. She digested what he was telling her, trying to understand the reality of his words. It was near to impossible for her to die? What did that mean? That she could NEVER die?

"I don't - I don't understand," she said. "What things have you not told me?"

Dumbledore took her hands into his. "The night Sirius died, it was not only Harry's prophecy that Voldemort needed," he explained, "It was yours, too. You and Harry share the same destiny. What I never told anyone, not you, not even Harry, was that there was a second half to Sybill's prophecy."