It was late summer, and the day was sunny and bright. A few clouds floated lazily across the blue sky, and a soft breeze ruffled the leafy green treetops. Below the trees was a quiet cemetery, headstones laid out in neat rows. The grass was neatly mown, and flowers dotted the landscape as tribute to loved ones lost.
In a tall oak on the edge of the cemetery sat a snowy white owl. Her golden eyes were closed to the beautiful day around her; she would have much preferred her choice roost in the Owlery at Hogwarts Castle. Her boy had come to this tiny town, searching for something, and as his companion she had come with him. Opening one golden eye, she looked down on the dark-haired boy with glasses below her.
He was standing alone at a set of graves with his head bowed. The owl knew that this was where his parents were buried; he had come to pay his last respects before leaving. There were fresh flowers on the grave, though the owl did not remember the boy placing them there.
The snowy owl closed her eyes again, content to nap in the cool shade of the tree as the boy below her stood silently among the graves. After a while she sensed movement above her and opened her eyes to find a flame red phoenix circling high above the trees. She knew him: he was the leader's companion. But the leader had died, and the bird had left. The owl knew the boy was upset about this loss; he mourned more than just his parents below. He had lost family and friends, and now carried a terrible responsibility on his shoulders.
The phoenix in the sky called to her in song. With a ruffle of her tail feathers, the owl soared into the air to join him. The red and golden bird dipped his head in acknowledgement as she flew toward him. Together they coasted along the air currents, high above the graveyard, where the boy continued his lonely vigil. They watched as he knelt to touch the headstones one last time.
Soon he stood up and turned away from his parents' graves, ready at last to leave the past behind and continue his dark journey. He stopped short when he saw someone in front of him. The second man was a small, rat-like man, and his clothes were patched and dirty. The man twitched as he glanced nervously over his shoulder.
The owl sensed this man was dangerous and began to fly as fast as she could toward the boy. The phoenix gave a sad cry and continued to circle in the air. He could only watch the scene unfold below; today he would not interfere.
The boy began to pull his wand out of his cloak, but the small man quickly has his own trained on the boy's chest. The owl flew faster; the boy was in great danger. She suddenly understood why the phoenix had arrived. The phoenix just waited, watching from the sky, because today it was her job to protect the boy.
The boy and the rat-like man appeared to argue. Then the rat-like man pulled back his wand to strike. The owl dived at his arm, pecking at his flesh and drawing blood. The small man yelled and swore. He waved his arms to drive off the owl, but she persisted. He shouted a terrible curse, and a jet of green light flew toward the boy.
The owl burst forward with a cry. She knew how special this boy was; she had stood by him for many years as he struggled with burdens far too heavy for a boy his age, yet continued to triumph in spite of the pain. He would save the world, but now it was her time to save him, so he could complete his task and lay down his final burden.
With a final call to the boy who had been her companion, the snowy white owl intercepted the deadly green light. As she fell to the ground, the phoenix high above let out a desolate cry that filled the air with grief.
* * *
"NO!" cried Harry, devastated. He sank to the ground and cradled the lifeless form of Hedwig to his chest. She was gone, yet another loss in his ongoing battle with Voldemort, another hole in his heart. A gift from Hagrid on his first trip to Diagon Alley, she had been his companion for six years. She had carried letters to Ron, Hermione, and Sirius, helping him stay connected to his friends when he had no other means to communicate with them. She had suffered through endless holidays at Privet Drive with him and had been his friend when others had not. She represented one of his first and closest connections to the wizarding world.
Peter Pettigrew stood with his wand still raised, looking slightly shocked at Harry's outburst. Without thinking Harry brandished his wand and yelled "Expelliarmus!" Pettigrew's wand flew safely away; Wormtail was disarmed and began to cower.
"Incarcerous!" Harry shouted, advancing on the small man. Thick, long ropes flew from his wand and bound the wide-eyed Death Eater. Pettigrew fell to his side on the ground, whimpering like he had in the Shrieking Shack during Harry's third year. Harry felt his anger swell, and the urge to use an Unforgivable Curse on the man who had betrayed his parents, and had just tried to kill him, became stronger with each passing moment. He felt the rage, the pain, and the frustration he had been feeling all summer begin to build until it was almost unbearable; he felt little desire to spare Pettigrew as he had once before.
Breathing heavily, Harry did not notice the red and golden bird which soared through the sky until it landed on his shoulder. He looked into its golden eyes in surprise. "Fawkes?" he breathed, astonished to find Professor Dumbledore's phoenix in the graveyard of Godric's Hollow; he had thought that the phoenix had left Hogwarts after the headmaster's death.
Fawkes gave a low cry, one long beautiful note that seemed to fill Harry's heart with a calm feeling of peace. Harry immediately understood, and he nodded to both himself and the bird. Taking a deep breath, he turned and faced Pettigrew; the urge to kill the small man had passed.
"What are you doing here?" Harry demanded, his wand steady and still pointing at the rat-like man. "Why are you trying to kill me? "
Wormtail looked up at him with watery eyes, his face crumpled in defeat. "I wasn't trying to kill you, I was –"
"Not trying to kill me?" Harry interrupted in disbelief. "With a Killing Curse? I may have survived it once before, but I don't think I'll survive it a second time. Now I'll ask once more: why were you trying to kill me?"
"I wasn't trying to kill you," Wormtail whimpered again. "I was trying to save you! The Dark Lord, he wants to–" Wormtail stopped, his eyes wide and his mouth open as he stared at something behind Harry. A look of terror came over his face, and Harry whipped around to see who—or what—was behind him.
Severus Snape.
A second boiling rage erupted within Harry, uncontrollable. With a cry of fury he charged at his former professor. Fawkes left his shoulder with a loud squawk and circled in the air. Since that fateful night on the tower, Harry had both dreaded and looked forward to meeting the man who had murdered Professor Dumbledore. Now he forgot about Fawkes, about Pettigrew, about how Snape had bested him at Hogwarts just months before. He only wanted to tear the greasy-haired man limb from limb with his own bare hands for what he had done.
Without warning, Harry found himself flung backwards, his wand flying out of his grasp to land in the grass behind him. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him. Snape strode over and stood above him, his dark eyes glittering strangely as he gazed down at Harry with an indecipherable look on his face.
"Haven't we already played this game?" Snape sneered, his greasy hair falling around his face. "Seems you've found my lost servant–my reluctant thanks." Snape's voice dripped with the sarcasm he had always reserved just for Harry, and it infuriated him. Glaring up at the older man, Harry noticed that Snape was noticeably thinner, his robes ripped and dirty. Harry didn't care; he only wanted revenge.
"Traitor!" Harry spat, as he stood up to face Dumbledore's murderer. Snape's mouth twitched, and his eyes narrowed, but he kept his wand leveled at Harry's chest. "You killed him, and he trusted you!" He began to rush at Snape again.
The former professor gestured Harry back with his wand. He cocked an eyebrow. "I wouldn't go there if I was you, Potter. You don't know what you're talking about." Snape spoke softly, his black eyes gleaming.
As Harry glared at Snape, he felt a flurry of wind and wings, and Fawkes came to rest not on Harry's shoulder, but on Snape's. Harry was stunned. Snape turned his head to gaze at the phoenix, and Harry thought he saw a look of pain cross the older man's face. Fawkes sang several beautiful notes; it seemed to Harry that the golden bird was singing directly to Snape. Any expression of pain Harry had imagined seeing on Snape's face was gone, replaced again with a mask of unreadable mystery.
"Fawkes–" Harry began, but didn't know what to say. To see Professor Dumbledore's cherished bird on Snape's shoulder had just turned his world upside down.
To his even greater shock, Snape answered the songbird, quietly uttering a few words in the sing-song language he had used to heal Draco Malfoy after Harry had used the Sectumsempra curse. Fawkes seemed to understand; he bowed his head to the Potions master and left Snape's shoulder to come rest on Harry's once more.
"Like I said, Potter," Snape said quietly. "You don't know what you're talking about. Best not interfere. I'll deal with Wormtail."
Harry shook himself, as if out of a trance, trying to figure out what it all meant: Fawkes, comforting Snape? Snape, communicating with Fawkes? Snape had killed Dumbledore, revealing his true allegiance in one horrible stroke; was there something else going on which Harry didn't know about? Or had Snape not only fooled Dumbledore and the Order, but their very mascot as well?
Snape waved his wand, and Pettigrew was forced to his feet, still bound by Harry's spell, and moaning in fear. Snape walked past Harry and took Pettigrew’s arm as if to Apparate out.
Harry shouted, "Accio Wand!" and it flew quickly into his hand. He began to shout, "Stupefy," but once more found Snape blocking his spells before he could even finish them. And then to his horror, he felt himself reliving the Full Body Bind curse, much as he had the night Dumbledore had died.
"Feel familiar?" Snape taunted, leaving Pettigrew bound behind him, and again coming to stand in front of Harry. Harry was frozen in place, Fawkes still perched on his shoulder. He stared at Snape defiantly, his insides seething.
"Yes," continued Snape, "I know you were there that night, on the tower. I know what you think you saw, but you don't know everything, Potter, no matter how much the late headmaster shared with you before his..." Snape pursed his lips tightly, " . . . end." Fawkes let out a low cry.
Harry raged inside, furious. He felt Fawkes grip his shoulder tighter, but this time the calming presence of the phoenix did little to lessen his hatred for the man in front of him. Snape laughed as he looked straight into Harry's eyes. "Even without Legilimency I can tell how angry you are. Remember what I told you: keep your mouth shut and your mind closed. It's the only way you'll be strong enough to defeat the Dark Lord."
Snape took a step backwards and seemed to be thinking about something. He narrowed his eyes and added, "It's the only way you will be able to destroy the Horcruxes."
Harry felt a jolt of shock go through his frozen body and knew Snape had felt it in his mind when the older man nodded. "I know about your quest. Poor beginning you've made of it, too, almost killed by the likes of this." He waved his wand, and Pettigrew floated over to where Snape stood still glowering at Harry.
"If I were you, Potter," Snape whispered, leaning in close, "I wouldn't waste my time around here." His face clouded over, and he frowned. He looked at the graves, at the fresh flowers that Harry had found laid neatly on the ground in front of his mother's headstone when he had arrived. "There's nothing left here, for anyone. They're dead, and they're not coming back." He stepped back, and narrowed his eyes again. "Why not go back to your other inheritance? At least it's still standing and safely hidden."
Turning his back on Harry, Snape took Pettigrew’s arm once more. Scowling, he said, "Come, Wormtail. I'll forget about this little . . . indiscretion, unless you want to end up like Regulus Black." Pettigrew’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently.
"Until we meet again," Snape said to Harry, his voice dripping with sarcasm. With a whirl of his dark cloak the former professor turned around and Apparated out with Wormtail, leaving Harry alone in the cemetery.
The curse lifted immediately, and Harry found himself taking great gasping breaths as if he had actually dueled with Snape. He was stunned by what had just happened, by what Wormtail had done, and by what Snape had said.
As Harry stood there, with Fawkes on his shoulder and Hedwig on the ground, he heard footsteps behind him. Turning around he cried "Expelliarmus!" for the second time that night. He was relieved to see it was only Ron and Hermione, out of breath as they came running across the cemetery. Their wands flew out of their hands to land on the ground nearby.
"Harry, it's us!" cried Hermione, running up to him, as Ron went to get their wands. "What happened? Are you okay? Who was that? Who just– "
"Got away?" finished Harry bitterly. "It was Snape."
"Snape!" exclaimed Ron, joining them and handing Hermione her wand. "What was he doing here?"
"Tossing me around some more," replied Harry cynically, still confused by the man's inscrutable actions.
"Oh, Harry!" cried Hermione, falling to the ground next to Hedwig and momentarily forgetting about Snape. "What happened to Hedwig? Did he –" She left the rest unsaid as her voice caught and her eyes misted over. Ron looked angry and called Snape a very unflattering name.
"No," said Harry, his voice heavy. "That was Pettigrew." He passed his hand through his hair, trying to figure it all out. Pettigrew had tried to kill him, but said he wanted to save him. Save him from what? Something Voldemort wanted to do to him . . . but then Snape had arrived, and Harry had never found out what Pettigrew was trying to save him from.
"Pettigrew!" said Ron, interrupting his thoughts, and Hermione gasped. "What was he doing here?"
Harry told them how Wormtail had appeared, how Hedwig had taken the Killing Curse that Pettigrew had thrown at him, and how Fawkes had arrived. He explained how Snape had then appeared, and taken Wormtail with him when he Apparated out. He did not tell them everything Snape had said–not yet, since he still didn't understand it himself
"But why would Wormtail want to kill you?" asked Hermione when he had finished. Ron gave her a withering look and she added, "Aside from the obvious reasons, Ron. Did he say anything?"
Harry was silent a moment as he again pondered Wormtail's mysterious words. "He said he was trying to save me," he finally admitted. Hermione's eyes got very round, but Ron just snorted.
"From what? From You-Know-Who?" Ron shook his head, looking skeptical. "Why doesn't he kill his boss then, save you the trouble? You don't usually save a person by killing them."
Hermione looked scared and thoughtful at the same time. "What?" asked Harry, a bit nervous as his own thoughts began to form conclusions that he did not like at all.
"Well..." she hesitated. "Didn't Snape tell the Death Eaters to leave you alone at Hogwarts? That you were for Voldemort only?"
Harry nodded as Ron twitched, and she continued. "And the attack on your birthday–no one tried to kill you then, right? Maybe Voldemort wants you for himself, but he doesn't want to kill you. Maybe he wants to do something terrible, and...and Wormtail thought it would be better for you to die than to be captured."
Ron looked at Hermione as if she had grown a second head. "Get off it, where'd you come up with that?"
"And what could be worse than killing me?" added Harry, trying hard to think of anything else but what Hermione had said. He remembered Dumbledore saying something similar to Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic, about how there were worse things to do to a man than kill him. He wondered what they were and if Voldemort was indeed contemplating one of them for him. He feared that perhaps Hermione was on to something.
"I don't know," said Hermione, standing up and brushing off her legs. "It's just a thought."
"But why would Pettigrew want to help save Harry from You-Know-Who?" asked Ron, still doubtful. "Look what he did to Harry's parents, and to Harry during the TriWizard Tournament."
"He does owe Harry a life debt, Dumbledore said so himself," replied Hermione. "I know it doesn't make much sense. And what about Snape?"
"What about him?" asked Harry quickly, not wanting to discuss his latest encounter with the former Order member and Hogwarts professor. He was having a hard enough time figuring out Pettigrew’s confusing actions; that Snape still had some mysterious role to play only made matters worse.
"Why did he leave you behind again?" asked Hermione. "He didn't even touch you, did he? He had another chance to capture—or kill you—for Voldemort, but he didn't. It's very strange."
Harry did not answer, for this point troubled him more than anything, even Pettigrew wanting to kill him; instead he walked away, looking for a stick or a branch. As he walked, he tried to puzzle out his enigmatic conversation with Snape. It was true that Snape had now had two opportunities to capture or kill Harry, and that he had not taken advantage of either one. He had toyed with Harry, and had taunted him, but Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that Snape was also trying to tell him something.
Was it even possible that Snape was trying to help him?
If Voldemort wanted Harry for himself, why would he send Death Eaters to Privet Drive on his birthday, but order Snape to leave him alone? Could Snape still be working for the Order and trying to protect Harry while maintaining his cover as a Death Eater? But what about that night on the Astronomy Tower? Harry had watched as Snape had killed Professor Dumbledore in cold blood and run off with Draco Malfoy. He remembered the expression on Snape's face as he ran: a look of fear and revulsion. Harry had thought it was for him or for Dumbledore, but now for the first time, Harry wondered if Snape had somehow been acting on Dumbledore's orders when he had cast the horrible Killing Curse that night, and had hated himself for doing so.
Ron and Hermione talked in low voices as Harry wandered through the grass, question after question running through his mind. Whose side was Snape really on? What was he trying to tell Harry? What was Pettigrew’s role? Was he turning on Voldemort? Harry could not figure out any answers, and he knew that at the moment it was more important to begin his hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes; he would worry about Pettigrew and Snape as he went.
Finding a large stick, Harry bent down to pick it up and uttered a spell from Transfiguration, which turned the stick into a simple wooden box. He walked back to Ron and Hermione, and knelt down next to Hedwig.
"Harry," said Hermione, her voice quiet. "I'm so sorry about Hedwig."
Harry just nodded, his throat tight. "Could you help?" he asked, as he gently placed Hedwig in the box. "I'd like for her to stay here, with my parents." Ron nodded and took out his wand to dig a hole. Hermione found a rock and transfigured it into a small headstone for the snowy owl.
Harry stroked Hedwig's feathers one last time before closing the lid. Using his wand, he traced her name onto the box. He walked over to where Ron had magically prepared a small hole and placed the box into the earth. Hermione placed the new headstone in the ground as well, and Fawkes came and perched on it. The phoenix gave a mournful cry, and while his song did not lessen Harry's sorrow for Hedwig, it did become more bearable.
"You should say something," whispered Hermione.
Harry did not know what to say; he was still too confused. He missed Hedwig already. She would never bring him mail again, never land on his shoulder to nip playfully at his ear. He would never hear her squawk at him again, or see her gaze at him with those golden eyes that expressed so much. She had been more than an owl, a pet: she had been his friend. And like so many others, she had stood in the path of danger for him and saved his life only to lose her own. Kneeling down once more, Harry touched the small headstone, tracing Hedwig's name with his fingers. Then he glanced to either side, to his parents' graves, and a small smile came over his face. She was with them now, and they would watch over her. Silently, he said his last words to all three of them.
After a while Harry stood up. "Good-bye, Hedwig," he whispered. "Thank-you." Hermione placed a white rose that she had conjured down next to the headstone; Ron wiped his nose and sniffled. Turning around, Harry began to walk back to the village. Fawkes flew alongside him, and somehow Harry knew that he was there to stay; the thought comforted him immensely. "Come on, let's go."
Ron and Hermione hurried to keep up with him, eyeing the phoenix next to Harry with both wonder and confusion. "Where are we going?" asked Ron.
"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place," replied Harry, making up his mind. He still didn't know what side Snape was on—he hardly wanted to believe the greasy haired traitor was still on the good side—but he decided that he was going to look into Snape's puzzling hints either way. Something told him that even if no good came of it, neither was it any sort of trap. Fawkes seemed to confirm this with a soft musical chirp.
Harry also had nowhere else to go. He was not planning on returning to Hogwarts; the Black house belonged to him, and it seemed as good a place as any to regroup and plan for the next stage of their search for Voldemort's Horcruxes, now that Godric's Hollow had failed to yield any clues for their hunt. Harry had four Horcruxes to find and destroy before he would have to face Voldemort one final time, and he was determined to see his quest through to the end. Idly he fingered the locket in his pocket, the fake locket that had cost Dumbledore so dearly; first he would find the real locket that Voldemort had used, though he had little idea where to begin after the devastating loss in the cave. After that he would find the cup, and Nagini, and something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's . . .
"Why?" asked Hermione curiously, interrupting his thoughts. "You haven't wanted to go back there since . . . well, since Sirius died."
"I know," said Harry. "But . . ." He let his voice trail off as he stopped in his tracks, stunned by a sudden realization.
"What?" asked Ron, looking around wildly and pulling out his wand. "What is it?"
"I just realized who R.A.B. is," breathed Harry. "I think I know where the locket is hidden."
Leaving Ron and Hermione standing together speechless with surprise, Harry sprinted off to begin his grim journey at number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
* * *
The phoenix watched as the boy ran off, alight with knowledge. He would figure out the puzzle, and he would succeed at his grim task. The bird had no doubt of that. The boy was stronger than he knew and smarter than he thought. He had loyal friends who would help him. The phoenix would be his guide, his protector, and his companion. They had both lost loved ones, and now they would continue their journey together.
And together they would triumph.
* * *
The Owl and The Phoenix by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: My continued and gracious thanks to my beta, ginnyweasley718, and to J.K.Rowling for her inspired storytelling.
This story is part of the trilogy The Seventh Summer. The first story is called The Boy Who Left and takes place on Harry's seventeenth birthday at Privet Drive. The second story takes place about a week later at the Burrow and is called Not Really Saying Goodbye. This story concludes the trilogy, as it sets Harry on the long, dark path toward his final confrontation with Voldemort. This story was written in part out of a desire to work with Hedwig, and specifically, with certain ideas I had about Fawkes. I also had fun with Wormtail and Snape and their shifty allegiances. I do know why Wormtail tried to kill Harry, and what side Snape is on; perhaps someday I'll continue those ideas. In the meantime, I hope you have enjoyed this story!