Chapter One – Grandmother Figg

Please accept my sincere thanks for the many reviews, kind comments, and constructive criticism.  I am truly grateful for your interest in this story.

And now, I give you:

Chapter 23 – Firebird and Talons

After breakfast the next morning, Dumbledore assembled everyone on the lawn in front of the terrace.  He turned to the Grangers.  “As you now know, your daughter (and Harry, here) have shown themselves to be especially gifted among witches and wizards.  Individuals with this aptitude for magic come along only a few times a century.  If someone with these latent abilities is offered proper training during certain critical periods of magical development, they become sorcerers, or in Hermione’s case, a sorceress.  Over the course of the summer, the first of these critical developmental periods occurred.  Under the guidance of Arabella, Sirius, Remus, and myself, Harry and Hermione engaged in the training necessary to capture and maximize this opportunity for growth.  In other words, they have entered into a kind of apprenticeship.” Gordon Granger nodded solemnly. 

Dumbledore continued.  “The worked very hard, and I am enormously pleased at what they have achieved in so short a time.  If they will indulge me, I thought you might like to see a demonstration of some of what they have learned.” 

Harry gave Hermione a sidelong glance then thought, “Do you know what he has in mind?”  She shrugged.  Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles at Harry,

“I think, perhaps it’s time the Grangers met Firebird and Talons, eh?’  Harry nodded.  Dumbledore rubbed his hands together, ready to get down to business.  “Now, Sirius and Remus, if you two would stand behind the lines I’ve marked on either side of the lawn…” Sirius winked at Harry, pulled out his wand and walked to the area Dumbledore had indicated.  Remus patted Hermione’s shoulder, then followed Sirius.  “And Mr. Weasley, if you would stand, just over there…” Dumbledore pointed to a circle marked in the grass at the other end of the lawn.  Ron smiled knowingly at Harry, then walked to his spot.  “Harry, Hermione, you will proceed to the end of the lawn where Sirius and Remus are standing.  When I signal you, I want you to dash down the lawn, avoiding the curses and hexes they will hurl at you.  When you see me drop my arm, you may feel free to introduce Firebird and Talons.  It will be Firebird’s job to rescue our volunteer hostage, Mr. Weasley, and get him safely up to that platform overhead.” Dumbledore gestured to a pallet levitating 50 feet or so off the ground, “While it will be Talon’s job to catch this” Dumbledore held up a golden snitch, just like the one Harry normally chased in Quidditch, “and bring it to me.”  Hermione gasped. 

“You can do it…” Harry thought to her.

“And now,” Dumbledore continued, “is everyone ready?  Good.  Harry, Hermione, take your places.” 

Walking down the lawn together, Hermione said, “It will be a miracle if we pull this off.  I’ve never transformed running flat out dodging hexes!”  Harry gave her hand a quick squeeze and reminded her of all the ways in which her powers had lately been enhanced.  Then it was time.  They stood together, wands out, ready to pelt down the lawn on Dumbledore’s signal.     

They saw him raise him arm abruptly.  Harry grinned to Hermione and the two of them began their sprint down the lawn.  Spells landed all around them.  There were even a few small explosions to be neatly avoided.  The shielding charm served them well and by the time they were mid-way down the lawn, neither of them was so much as singed.  Dumbledore dropped his arm suddenly – the signal to transform.  Still running, Hermione closed her eyes tightly, and imagined herself in flight.  In a flash, she was Talons.  Catherine Granger screamed out loud.  But Talons was oblivious.  She had but one thought, “Get the snitch…”

Harry had transformed into the traditional phoenix form right at Hermione’s elbow.  He avoided a blast from Remus’s wand and flew directly at Ron.  Firebird fluttered his long red and gold tail feathers within easy reach of the “hostage”.  Ron had the presence of mind to grab them, and in seconds found himself being lifted to the platform high overhead.

Talons saw the glint of gold, shimmering in the air, very close to the ground.  She screamed and fell into a steep dive.  The snitch shot away, but Talons was too fast for it.  In an instant, the tiny gold ball was safe in her claws, wings beating helplessly in her tight hold.  She soared high overhead, circled once, and then swooped to Dumbledore, dropping the snitch into one of his outstretched hands.  She hovered momentarily in the air, and then assumed her normal form.  Where a falcon had been, Hermione now stood.  Catherine Granger swayed slightly on the spot. 

Dumbledore waved to Ron and the spectacular phoenix, high overhead.  “Come down!” he called.  Once more, Ron gripped the brightly colored tail feathers and Firebird lowered him safely to earth.  Dumbledore offered his arm to the Firebird, but it sailed past him and came to rest on Hermione’s shoulder.  In a twinkling, it had vanished, and in its place, standing next to Hermione, was Harry.

Gordon Granger gave a low whistle.  “That’s some parlor trick.” he said in admiration.  “Are all witches and wizards able to do that, or just the gifted ones?” 

Dumbledore answered, “Witches and wizards who are able to assume the form of an animal or magical creature are called ‘Animagi’, Gordon.  The Ministry of Magic keeps a registry of Animagi and I believe there have been seven registered thus far this century.  Harry and Hermione will be requested to register before they return to Hogwarts this fall. But,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “sometimes the animagus transformations go unregistered, so it is impossible to know how many there really are.  It is not necessary to be a sorcerer or sorceress to achieve the transformation, but because Harry and Hermione are gifted in this way, they have become Animagi at an age when most wizards would consider it impossible.” 

“I see.” Gordon said, looking from Harry to Hermione.  He was clearly impressed.

“And now,” Arabella called gaily, “how about some lunch?”  En mass, everyone turned and trooped toward the house.  Everyone, that is, but Gordon Granger.  He lingered on the terrace, puffing a pipe, lost in thought.  As Hermione’s father, he had grown accustomed to thinking of himself as the only person who could adequately protect and provide for her.  The events of this weekend had turned that notion completely on its head.  The uncomfortable realization that Hermione was more than capable of taking care of herself was beginning to dawn on him.  She now possessed skills that would enable her to deal with all manner of catastrophe or crisis.  Beyond that, a young sorcerer (Harry) was now slavishly devoted to her.  Gordon sighed.  He knew at some level that he should derive comfort from the fact that his daughter was capable and level-headed and surrounded by a cadre powerful witches and wizards who loved her. 

But he wasn’t comfortable at all.  Maybe they had defeated a dark wizard, but whose to say another one might not come along tomorrow.  Would Hermione be pitted against him or her as well?  Hadn’t Harry’s own parents been killed a dark wizard?  And, even if no dark force ever emerged to threaten their safety, what about threats to their happiness?   And too, how did wizards provide for their families? Did they have jobs?  He shook his head, overwhelmed.  Gordon had always known that one day, some young man would claim Hermione’s heart and hand, but he never thought it would be so soon.  He never thought he would be having the “what are your intentions toward my daughter” talk with a fifteen year old.  But then, he never thought he’d be having that talk with a sorcerer either…  

After lunch, Gordon caught Harry by one elbow.  “I wonder if I might have a word with you… in private?” he said quietly, careful not to attract Hermione’s attention. 

“Of course,” said Harry, leading him to Arabella’s small library.  Gordon looked around for a moment, not saying anything. He appeared to be turning something over in his mind. 

Shutting library doors, said meaningfully to Harry, “Don’t want to be disturbed, do we?” 

Harry felt himself tense.  “Was Dr. Granger about to tell him he disapproved of his relationship with Hermione?” he thought to himself.  Harry clenched and unclenched his fists, bracing for whatever Dr. Granger was about to say.  Initially, Dr. Granger said nothing.  He walked to the fireplace and knocked the dottle from his pipe.  He didn’t light it, but instead, chewed thoughtfully on the tip. 

“You wanted to see me about something, sir?” Harry prompted.  “Yes, Harry, I do. I want to ask you exactly what your intentions are toward my daughter.”  Harry had expected something like this.  He took a deep breath.

“First of all, Dr. Granger, I want you to know that I love Hermione deeply.  But that doesn’t answer your question does it?” Harry said easily, not waiting for an answer. “It is my hope that in the fullness of time, that Hermione will consent to by my wife.” 

There it was.  He had said it. Now it was out on the table.  Dr. Granger continued to chew his pipe.  Harry continued.  “I believe, no, I know” he said with emphasis, “that Hermione shares these hopes with me, but given our ages and the fact that we haven’t finished school, becoming formally engaged seemed a bit premature.” 

Dr. Granger nodded and regarded Harry with slightly narrowed eyes.  “And so you and she have spoken of a future together?”

“Yes, sir” said Harry, meeting his gaze. 

“And just what sort of future to you envision?” Gordon asked.

“Naturally,” Harry replied “we both intend to complete our education at Hogwarts, thereby becoming fully qualified as witch and wizard.  After that, there will probably be opportunities for us in the Ministry of Magic.   We could marry and make a quiet life for ourselves at my family’s ancestral home in Godric’s Hollow.”   

Gordon Granger was struck by Harry’s carefully chosen words and the manner in which they had been delivered.  He would have never believed it possible for someone this age to have his feet so firmly on the ground.  Gordon gave Harry the ghost of a smile.  “And where is Godric’s Hollow?” he asked, sounding conversational. 

“Its not far from here,” said Harry, who had relaxed slightly “in fact, part of this estate has a common border with Godric’s Hollow.” 

“Could we see it?” Gordon asked, genuinely interested. 

Harry was surprised.  “Certainly” he said “But we can’t do it by car.  We’ll have to go on horseback.” 

“Fine by me” said Gordon, getting to his feet.  Harry rose, not wanting the interview to be over.  Gordon Granger hadn’t yet reacted positively or negatively to Harry’s declaration.   Harry said slowly,

 “I’ll just go and arrange everything with Arabella…”

“Wonderful”, said Gordon, deliberately letting Harry twist in the wind for a moment or two.  Just as Harry reached the doors Gordon said offhandedly, “Oh, and Harry, whenever you do decide to ask for Hermione’s hand, I feel sure I’ll give you my consent.”  Harry felt his knees go weak with relief.  His face was wreathed in smiles as he shook Dr. Granger’s hand.  He bolted into the hall and nearly flattened Hermione, who had been listening at the door.

Her face shone with happiness and there were the beginnings of tears in her eyes.  Harry caught her up in his arms and spun madly around.  She laughed out loud.  “I love you, Hermione Granger, with all my heart.” he declared, setting her down.  She stood on tiptoes to kiss him.  Then, looking him directly in the eye in a way that made his pulse quicken, she said “And I love you, Harry.”  Possibly, at that moment, there were no people on earth happier than these two.   

***

In short order, Arabella had organized their party for a brief visit to Godric’s Hollow.  Ron, Harry, Gordon, Catherine and Hermione would ride over, while Arabella, Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore would apparate.  As Harry showed the Grangers the grounds and the ruins of the house, he was filled with a sense of peace and continuance.  Every blade of grass, every rock and tree called out “home” to him.  His parents had spent the happiest hours of their lives here.  Thinking back to the day he and Hermione had shared together here, Harry realized that in many ways, he had too.  He and Hermione stood in the doorway to what was left of the house, across the ancient threshold.  “Someday, somehow, we’ll rebuild it” he said.  Sirius heard him and smiled.  Harry looked from one face to another.  He was surrounded by all those he loved – his surrogate family.  These people, this place, Hermione – had become the center of his universe, and he knew instinctively that that no matter where life took him or what it held, it was to here and to her that he would always return.

Night had fallen over Hogsmeade.  A great black engine rumbled into the station.  It came to a stop, hissing and blanketed in steam.  It was the late train from London and carried only a handful of passengers.   The hooded figure of a woman stepped from the last car and onto the platform.  She had only a small bag.  Picking it up, she walked purposefully toward the Three Broomsticks.  Inside, Madame Rosmerta was seeing to the last of her customers.  “Be with you in a moment, dear” she called to the figure, who stood hesitating in the doorway.  The woman set down her bag, and in a moment, Madame Rosmerta glided over in her trademark sparkly high-heeled shoes.  Eyeing the bag, she said, “You’ll be wanting a room then?”  The woman nodded, but didn’t lower her hood.  Madame Rosmerta fished a key from under the bar.  “Here you are dear, Room 12.  It’s up the stairs and to your left.  Breakfast’s in the morning at 8:00 a.m.” 

The woman reached for the key, then spoke quietly, “I thank you, but I should let you know, that I am never out of my rooms at that hour.  I am,” she laughed oddly, “a very late sleeper.” 

Madame Rosmerta smiled.  Many of her customers kept late hours.  “I’ll be sure not to disturb you then.  Will you be staying long?”

“As long as it takes…” said the woman.  Madame Rosmerta thought she detected a slight accent – German perhaps.  The hooded woman turned to make her way to the stairs when she was unexpectedly jostled by a giant figure of a man,

 “Sorry ‘bout that,” he said apologetically.  His beady black eyes fell on the face of the woman whose hood had fallen away from her face.  He gasped.  “Lily!” he said, in disbelief. 

She looked up him with amazing green eyes and laying a hand on his arm said, “Not Lily…Lila.”  She moved away and up the stairs.  Hagrid was speechless, as was Madam Rosmerta who had seen the whole thing.

***

The Granger’s weekend at Paravel had been all too short in Catherine’s opinion.  She was just beginning to feel comfortable in its magical environment when it was time to return to Muggle London and her dental practice.  Catherine hated the long separations from Hermione when she was at Hogwarts, especially now, when Hermione seemed to be coming into her own as a young woman and as a sorceress.  There was no alternative, though. Catherine sighed deeply, resigned to her fate.  She comforted herself with the knowledge that she would definitely see Hermione over the holidays for Arabella had invited them all to spend Christmas at Paravel.  Even Gordon had seemed pleased by the invitation.  It gave her something to look forward to.

Sunday morning, after breakfast, Arabella, Harry, and Hermione had driven the Granger’s to the station.  On the platform, Gordon Granger shook hands with Harry.  “Look after yourself, Harry” and jerking his head toward Hermione said, “and my little girl, too.”

Harry gripped Gordon’s hand tightly saying, “I will, sir and…thank you.”

Catherine turned to Harry and hugged him impulsively.  “See you soon,” she whispered. 

Gordon held his daughter tightly, and then kissed her on the forehead. “I’m proud of you, Hermione” he said a bit gruffly.  But Hermione understood.  He had never been good at “good-byes”.  She turned to her mother, who clung tightly to her for a moment. 

“I’m going to miss you more than ever.  Write often, will you?” Catherine said.  Hermione nodded.  “I love you, my darling girl.  Take care.”  Catherine kissed Hermione’s cheek, then whispered discreetly, “You and Harry have a truly remarkable relationship – don’t take it for granted.”   

“I won’t – I could never take it for granted, it’s too precious to me…”  Hermione said simply. 

Arabella hugged Gordon and Catherine, then hustled them into one of the cars.  “See you at Christmas…” she called to them as the train gave a mighty lurch and eased out of the station. 

They drove back to Paravel in comfortable silence.  There had been a thick fog that morning that was only just beginning to lift.  It gave the surrounding countryside a dream-like quality, but it also forced Arabella to concentrate on the road.  In the back seat, Hermione was fighting back tears.  “So silly” she thought to Harry, “to be my age and crying.”  She rested her head on his shoulder. 

His reassuring voice filled her head, “You think it’s silly to miss your parents?  I miss my parents and I never even knew them.”  He stroked her hair, soothing away her troubles.  It was very reassuring, just to lean on Harry, not saying anything – finding her center. 

By the time they reached Paravel, her heart was lighter and she felt herself ready to face whatever new grueling exercise Sirius might have dreamed up in their absence.

The days leading up to September 1^st seemed to be racing by a twice their normal speed.  Usually, this would have filled Harry with delight.  He had typically spent the summer marking time, dying to get back to Hogwarts; not so, this year.  Harry had, for the first time, spent his holidays in the closest thing to a home he had ever known with the people he loved most in the world.  It was difficult to think about leaving Paravel and Sirius.  But Sirius promised to come for the Quidditch matches and Arabella had invited all of them back for Christmas. 

Harry sighed.  This had been the most incredible summer of his life…he hated to see it end.  He smiled thinking about who had made it so incredible.  Hermione.  After months and weeks of keeping his feelings to himself, they had finally emerged – erupted, really.   And far from being shocked or revolted at the idea of their being together, she had been wonderful - finally discovering her own true feelings for him on this breezy coast.   He had never dreamed of a partnership – a relationship like the one he shared with her.  She challenged him, inspired him, - completed him. He thought about the way he felt when he held her, or when she kissed him.  He had become addicted not just to her companionship, but to their physical closeness.  For many weeks now, they had fallen into the habit of sleeping in each other’s rooms.  It was indescribable – to fall asleep holding the love of your life and to wake in the morning with her head on your shoulder.  He sighed, again.  “And that, is perhaps, what I will miss most,” he whispered to Hermione, who was snuggled against him in front of the fire on the night before their last day at Paravel. 

The next day would be spent packing and re-packing their things.  It was going to be impossible to fit all of their new clothes into school trunks.  So, Arabella invited them to leave whatever they liked behind.  She would permanently designate the two rooms on the second floor guest hall as Harry and Hermione’s.  They were thrilled and took with them a few favorite pieces, but left the bulk behind to form their “Paravel” wardrobe. 

By afternoon, they were done packing.  In the morning, they would take the train to London and then spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron, catching the Hogwarts Express the next day.  But for now, they had a few blessed hours left in paradise.  But what to do?  Fly? Swim? Ride? What? 

Arabella considered for a moment, “Why don’t you go down to the cove and swim a bit, say good-bye to Clio.  Take her some flowers, she loves them.”  And so, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Sirius, and Remus donned bathing suits headed to the sea.   Hermione carried a generous cutting of roses from Arabella’s garden for Clio who appeared almost as soon as they arrived. 

Clio fingered the pearl bracelet Hermione wore, recognizing the gems immediately.  Hermione tried to thank her, and then offered Clio the roses.  She was clearly pleased.  Clio took one of Harry’s hands and placed it on top of one of Hermione’s, then kissed each of them in turn.  As her wave, the ninth wave, broke on the shore, she vanished, leaving behind only a few stray rose petals on the surface of the water. 

Remus spoke quietly behind them, reciting from Tennyson’s “The Coming of Arthur”:

“Wave after wave, each mightier than the last

‘Til last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep

And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged

Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame”

His voice trailed off.  Their last afternoon drawn sweetly to a close, they made their way back to the house.

Their last dinner together was pleasant.  Arabella managed to draw each of them into talking about the things they looked forward to most about returning to Hogwarts.  With a little encouragement, they were soon chatting eagerly about Quidditch matches, having Remus as their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher again, and taking their O.W.L’s.   Arabella sent them all off to bed at an early hour, reminding them sternly that their train would be leaving the village at 9:00 a.m. sharp. 

As soon as it was ‘safe’ Harry apparated to Hermione’s room.  She was waiting and practically ran into his arms.  He held her close, kissing her endlessly.  Harry and Hermione would make the most of their last night in Paravel – sleeping little, but saying everything that needed to be said, and reveling in their privacy, as if determined to build a store of memories to last them through the long winter months at Hogwarts.  As the first rays of the morning sun pierced the fog that hung about the house, Hermione stirred in Harry’s arms, waking him.  He traced the line of her bare shoulder with his finger.  He was entirely, completely content.  They were utterly committed to one another – bound together, and thoroughly connected.  Last night she had said, “You haven’t just filled my heart, Harry, you have become it…”   “And you,” he thought, looking at her sleeping form, “have become my life.”   

By some miracle, Arabella, Sirius, Remus, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Crookshanks, Hedwig, and Pigwidgeon actually boarded the train on time that morning.  They took up not one, but two compartments.  And once they arrived in London, it was a nightmare finding cabs for everyone.  They reached the Leaky Cauldron by mid-afternoon and were glad to have Tom, the innkeeper, bundle their bags away to their rooms. 

No rest for the weary, though.  No sooner than they had gotten settled, Arabella whisked Harry and Hermione to the Ministry so that they might formally register as Animagi.  To no one’s surprise, they were the youngest Animagi to register in a century.  The ministry official had watched wide-eyed as Hermione had repeatedly assumed her falcon form, but went speechless the first time Harry transformed into a phoenix.  Apparently, to transform into not just an animal, but a magical creature, was very rare.  The Ministry Official made Harry do it several times before finally registering him.

That night, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep.  He dreamed over and over of his mother.  Lily was crying and asking for his help, but with her back turned.  Each time he approached her, she turned away, making it impossible to see her face.  Finally, he caught her by the shoulders, “What is it? Tell me, I’ll help you…” he called.  Slowly she lifted her face – but it wasn’t his mother’s face.  It was terrible - a horrible twisted smile and bared teeth lunged at him.  He woke, breathing hard.  The ring on his finger glowed brightly and Hermione appeared at his side.  She looked alarmed. 

“Just a dream,” he muttered, “a nightmare, really.  Did the Cadeau Du Mer wake you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, relieved.  “I thought you were in trouble, but I guess it just sensed your distress.” 

A slow smile spread across his face, “Perhaps you’d better stay with me.  You know – just in case.”  She slid into bed beside him, and for the rest of the night, Harry was no longer troubled by nightmares.

***

At King’s Cross the next morning, they reunited with the Weasley’s.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had come to see Ron and to put Ginny, Fred, and George on the train.  It took time to get so large a party through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10.  Harry and Sirius went last.  As a large group of elderly ladies passed, Harry and Sirius strolled casually through the wall.  They were met on the other side of the barrier by perhaps half a dozen flash bulbs.  “There they are!” someone shouted, “Sirius Black and Harry Potter!”  Someone shoved a bit of parchment and a quill toward Sirius, asking for his autograph.   Sirius waved it away and pulled Harry through the crowd to where the party from Paravel and the Weasley waited. 

Sirius pulled Hermione into his arms and kissed both her cheeks.  Someone in the crowd “oohed”.  “I owe everything to you…” he said hoarsely.  She shook her head and blushed furiously.  “If you need anything at all, or even if you just want to talk, send me an owl.”

“Lets just call it ‘even’, okay?” she said, stepping toward Arabella.  They hugged tightly.  “I can never thank you enough for all your time, and advice, and protection, and of course, for this…” Hermione said, fingering the Cadeau Du Mer.   Another barrage of flash bulbs exploded around them. 

“Come back to us as soon as you can” Arabella whispered, her eyes bright with tears.  Hermione stepped onto the train.

Harry squeezed Arabella tightly.  “Thank you, for everything.  You’ve given me the most perfect summer of my life, and my first ever birthday party…” 

She laughed.  “It’s meant more to me than you will ever know,” she said to Harry, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Take care of Hermione,” she whispered. 

He gave her a charming grin, and said “with pleasure.”  Then he turned to Sirius, who gripped him a fatherly bear-hug.  Sirius released him, but put a hand on each shoulder. 

“Harry,” he said, hoarsely, “I want you to know how proud I am of all you’ve learned and all you’ve done this summer.  And I want you to know that James and Lily would have been thrilled to see the man you’ve become.”  Harry felt his eyes begin to sting at the corners.  Sirius went on, “If you need anything at all, I’ll be at Paravel.  And Harry,” Sirius was finding it hard to talk, “I love you.” 

“Love you, too” said Harry who practically ran to the train.  It began to move.  Remus called to Sirius from the open door of their compartment.  “I’ll be back each weekend to help…I promise.” And then they were gone, lost in a cloud of steam, headed north.