Clover Hawkings and the Rise of the Phoenix

1. The Stars are Always On

Author's note:

Hi, so something I really should have mentioned in the introduction but totally forgot to add is the perspectives in this story. Unlike the last one, which was from Clover and on occasion Cass's perspective, this one will largely be from Artemis's POV. We'll also have Clover and less frequently, Alura's view.  I'll add a little note at the beginning of each chapter so it's clear. This will take some getting used to as I try to find their voices. Sorry for not mentioning sooner! 

Artemis

The hottest day of the summer was drawing to a close.

The sun was finally resting its head, sending long shadows creeping across the ground. I tip my head up at the sky, cranning to see it through the tree branches. It's grapefruit pink, streaked with orange clouds. It's maybe nine thirty, so the moon won't be up for another three hours. Fortunately, there's plenty to see until then.

I stand up, carefully shifting on the tree branch I'm standing on. My broomstick is hovering about a meter below me. I crouch down, grab a nearby branch, and swing myself onto it with a thump. It hurts, but luckily no smaller branches hit my face. Cautiously, I steer my way around trees- a forest really isn't the best place to ride a broom. Carlobirds are normally out on the sunsets of hot days, so maybe if I fly near their nests in the craigs, I'll see them. Or Mooncalves. They're incredibly shy, only coming out of their burrows on the full moon, but last summer around this time, I saw them dance.

I probably shouldn't stay out this late. School starts in only a couple days, after all. And sixth year is said to be one of the hardest, being between the OWL year and the NEWT year. But the sky is bright and the trees are not scared of me anymore, and I so desperately don't want to go back into the house.

It's hard to escape any other way these days.

Well- to start with, I'm literally trapped in an estate. (My parent's estate, technically. Trapped in an estate- I wince at how spoiled and privileged that sounds.) This will all change when I go back to Hogwarts, though.

But I don't think Hogwarts can escape either.

School was alright, at first. Enjoyable. Anything that isn't here is lovely, and being with my friends more than makes up for any of Hogwarts' shortcomings. There had been a rough couple weeks back in December, but that was long smoothed over, and the rest of the year passed in relative peace.

Then June happened.

Clover had warned us since the beginning. She had said that Karkaroff was no good, the Tournament was stupid- someone is going to get hurt, someone is going to die.

She was right.

We had been laughing before that. Me, Clover, Scarlet and Alura. Joking about our teachers, and how badly we had done on our OWLs, just a day before.

Then- Harry Potter came out of the maze clinging to a body. Not even out of a maze- just appeared out of thin air. He said the Triwizard Cup was a Portkey. That You-Know-Who returned. That He killed Credric Diogary.

Clover didn't talk for so long after that. When she did, it wasn't anything about the murdur, or how horribly right she was, but rather, an offhand remark about Beauxbaton's perfume.

Then nightmares started again.

But that was all two months ago. So much has changed since then. The Ministry has been doing its best to destroy Harry Potter's credibility. "Cedric Digory's death was a tragic accident." It's practically their slogan now. Even my father- the most cruelly levelheaded person I know- parrots back their stupid line.

I remember once at dinner- my mother was coaxed out of her room and I was forced out of the forest. I had just read the Prophet and deemed it safe to disparage their reporting around the You-Know-Who thing to my family. I mean, why couldn't He have come back? I saw Harry with a body.

"A body, Father," I stressed. His face remained a mask. "Cedric's body. Cedric was a Prefect and a Quidditch player and tutored me in Charms once. And I saw him dead on the quidditch pitch! How else could something so horrible happen?" My face was burning red from anger, I knew, and my mother twitched uncomfortably next to me.

My father paused with his glass of red wine almost to his lips. "Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident. You must learn, Artemis" - he says my name the way my mother used to love when they lived in Paris and flew across the canals at night - "that the horrible things are not separated from the daily ones."

I don't know who believes them about Cedric. I don't, because Harry Potter certainly came out of that maze holding a body. If He is back- well, to state the obvious, that would be bad. For everyone, and my little family. Alura's family are blood traitors, Scarlet is a half-blood. I'm part of the Old pureblood families, so I'm covered, and I don't know about Clover.

Yet another thing that has changed.

At first, it was just a letter she wrote back too late. And then another. It may just be me, but who takes three weeks to write back to one bloody letter? It's not like we were talking about philosophy or anything.

I hope she's alright. And that she's not mad. In both the angry and out-of-her-mind sense.

I'll know soon enough. Hogwarts starts the day after tomorrow, and I don't know if I should laugh or cry. I looked up at the sky again. The sun's bloody trails had been wiped away by clean, endless stars. Is it even today anymore? Or is it tomorrow?

I glanced down and coaxed my broom to the ground. It's getting cold. I should go inside. Get warm, get some sleep.

But the sky is so open. Vast, and honestly rather uninviting- which only makes me want it more. I can see the lights of the house in the distance. The light in my mother's room is off. The light in my father's study is on.

Then, back up. The stars are always on.

With a smile, I climb back onto my broom and race into the night.