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"Deanna." Dumbledore whispered as his daughter went limp, tears coming into his eyes once more. He stood there, a few inches from Deanna, frozen. He didn't know what to do. Seeing the sheets of white stained with red made his mind blank. The unmoving body of his daughter as blood seeped from the cuts on her body made Dumbledore's tears stream down his face yet he still remained where he was.
Fawkes looked at him curiously before letting out a cry. With that, Dumbledore snapped back to his senses and took the girl into his arms, running down the steps, where the portraits had gasped and looked at the girl worriedly. The door suddenly opened to reveal Harry, Ron, Hermione and Minerva whose eyes widened at the sight of the bloody Deanna.
"A-Albus, what-"
"Not now, Minerva," said Dumbledore, wiping away his tears and smearing some of Deanna's blood onto his cheeks. He turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, please go call Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape." Hermione nodded and with one last worried look at Deanna ran out of the room.
"Professor Dumbledore. Potter had a nightmare," said Minerva. "He says..."
"It wasn't a nightmare," said Harry quickly. "I was asleep in the Common Room, but it was real. I saw it happen. Mr. Weasley was attacked."
Ron's eyes widened as he looked from Harry to Dumbledore. "Dad? What about Dad?"
"I know. We'll explain, Mr. Weasley, now please sit down," said Dumbledore as he set Deanna down on one of the couches. "Minerva, please do take care of her." Minerva nodded once and started applying pressure on Deanna's wounds and chanting some spells she knew.
"Everard. Dilys!" said Dumbledore sharply. The two portraits immediately nodded though still glancing at Deanna.
"You were listening?" said Dumbledore.
The wizard nodded, the witch said, "Naturally."
"The man has red hair and glasses," said Dumbledore. "Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people —" The two then nodded and left their portraits. Then, Dumbledore walked around them and to Fawkes, who flew down to Deanna. He was crying onto Deanna's body, but the cuts wouldn't heal no matter how many tears of his had dropped on them unlike how Minerva was healing some of the cuts.
Dumbledore's expression turned graver, but he bent down and stroked the phoenix. "We will need a warning." The phoenix cried and nuzzled Deanna's hand before he burst into flames and Fawkes was gone. The door then opened at that moment to reveal the panting trio of Hermione, Madame Pomfrey and Snape.
"Oh dear," said Madame Pomfrey as they ran over to Deanna's body where there were some cuts left. She too started healing Deanna with the same spells Minerva was using. Snape took out a vial of Dittany from his pocket and started dropping some on Deanna's cuts.
Hermione had tears in her eyes as she sat in between Harry and Ron, who had held her hands tight. She had always felt joy and warmth every time she saw Deanna, but this time was different. Seeing the girl bloodied just like how she did months ago was something that had hurt Hermione's heart so much. She hated seeing Deanna sad or hurt or bleeding like this. If she could, she would take all the pain from the girl and let her be the innocent and lovely Dumbledore she was.
"Phoenix tears didn't work, Poppy," said Dumbledore seriously while tinkering around with some of the many items in his office. "Why?" There was silence and all of them but Minerva looked up at Dumbledore in surprise. Phoenix tears had immense healing powers and can save people from the brink of death. So, why didn't they work on Deanna when the simple healing spells did? But they didn't ask anymore as they finally finished healing Deanna.
"Evanesco," said Poppy as the blood around Deanna disappeared, and she was wearing her white nightgown again. She looked peaceful as if she hadn't gone through anything at all.
Dumbledore let out a sigh and sank into his chair. "Thank you, Poppy, Severus, Minerva. You two may go now. Minerva, could you please call the Weasley children?" Minerva nodded and she too left with Madame Pomfrey and Snape. There was silence between the Golden Trio and the Headmaster as they watched the light moving of Deanna's chest.
Harry was still thinking about what he saw. It was not only Mr. Weasley he saw. In fact, since he had been having these dreams, he had this companion as he walked down the windowless and dark corridor. A red flame. He stared at the sleeping girl. Was it her? Was Deanna the flame all along? But why was she hurt? He didn't see the flame in front of Mr. Weasley.
Dumbledore then looked up at the ceiling. "Harry. How did you see this?"
"I don't know," said Harry, still staring at the Hufflepuff. "Inside my head, I suppose – "
"You misunderstand me," said Dumbledore, still in the same calm tone. "I mean... can you remember — er — where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"
Harry gaped at Dumbledore before answering. "I was the snake. I saw it all from the snake's point of view." Ron and Hermione looked at him in shock while Dumbledore simply nodded. He then took one of the instruments on his desk and tapped it with the tip of his wand. There were noises of clinking then pale green smoke came from the tube. The smoke thickened and then coiled in the air... A serpent's head grew out of the end of it.
"Naturally, naturally," murmured Dumbledore. "But in essence divided?" Then, the serpent split itself into two snakes, and from where they had split a different smoke had rose. Red. The read smoke spread its wings and they saw that there was a phoenix. The phoenix was coiled with gold ropes as it flew around the serpents before settling in the middle. Dumbledore watched the phoenix grimly before he tapped the object once more, and the smoke serpents and phoenix had vanished.
Suddenly, Everard had reappeared in his portrait, panting slightly. "Dumbledore!"
"What news?" said Dumbledore at once.
"I yelled until someone came running, said I'd heard something moving downstairs — they weren't sure whether to believe me but went down to check — you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn't look good, he's covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left —"
"Good," said Dumbledore as Ron made a convulsive movement, "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then —"
And moments later, Dilys came back in her portrait, sinking into her armchair. "Yes, they've taken him to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore... They carried him past under my portrait... He looks bad..."
"Thank you," said Dumbledore. Ron was now looking terrified for his father. Harry and Hermione squeezed his hands to comfort them and he smiled at them weakly, but nothing could take his mind off on how his father was right now. Maybe, he was just as bloodied as Deanna was or maybe even worse. He had to be fine. He couldn't lose him.
"Professor — what about mum?" said Ron.
"That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching," said Dumbledore. "But she may already know... that excellent clock of hers . . ." The trio exchanged grave looks because it was too late by now. She was probably asleep, not knowing that Arthur's hand was pointing to mortal peril.
Dumbledore then stood up and took a blackened old kettle behind where Deanna lay and placed it upon his desk. "Portus." The kettle trembled and glowed with a blue light before it rested on his desk. He then marched over to the portrait of a Slytherin wizard who was closing his eyes.
"Phineas. Phineas." But Phineas remained sleeping as if he hadn't heard Dumbledore. The portraits were now shouting his name too. "Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS!"
He could not pretend any longer; he gave a theatrical jerk and opened his eyes wide. "Did someone call?"
"I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas," said Dumbledore. "I've got another message."
"Visit my other portrait?" said Phineas, yawning and looking at Harry. "Oh no, Dumbledore, I am too tired tonight..." Harry, Ron and Hermione were staring at him in confusion, wondering why he was pretending to sleep. Then, the portraits started shouting in protest.
"Insubordination, sir!" roared a corpulent, red-nosed wizard, brandishing his fists. "Dereliction of duty!"
"We are honor-bound to give service to the present Headmaster of Hogwarts!" cried Armando Dippet. "Shame on you, Phineas!"
"Shall I persuade him, Dumbledore?" called a gimlet-eyed witch, raising an unusually thick wand that looked not unlike a birch rod.
"Oh, very well," said the wizard called Phineas, eyeing this wand slightly apprehensively, "though he may well have destroyed my picture by now, he's done most of the family —"
"Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait," said Dumbledore. "You are to give him the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children, and Harry Potter will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?"
"Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and Harry Potter coming to stay," recited Phineas in a bored voice. "Yes, yes... very well..." He disappeared into view as Ron looked at Dumbledore.
"Isn't Hermione coming with us?" said Ron.
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Weasley. You know someone is watching," said Dumbledore, now sitting beside Deanna and stroking her hair. "There would be too much questions if Ms. Granger will come."
"I'll see you both soon anyways," said Hermione to them. Harry and Ron smiled gratefully before wrapping their arms around her. Then, the door opened again and Fred, George, Ginny, all looking shocked and still in their nightwear, were followed in by Minerva. They glanced at Deanna in confusion but remembered their father.
"Harry — what's going on?" asked Ginny, who looked frightened. "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt —"
"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore before Harry could speak. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."
"How're we going?" asked Fred, looking shaken. "Floo powder?"
"No," said Dumbledore, "Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He indicated the old kettle lying innocently on his desk. "We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back... I wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you —" There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.
"It is Fawkes's warning," said Dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. "She must know you're out of your beds... Minerva, go and head her off — tell her any story —" Minerva was gone in a swish of tartan.
"He says he'll be delighted," said a bored voice behind Dumbledore; Phineas had returned. "My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguests. . . ."
"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to Harry and the Weasleys. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us..." With one last smile from Hermione, who moved beside Deanna, Harry and the Weasleys gathered around Dumbledore's desk.
"You have all used a Portkey before?" asked Dumbledore, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. "Good. On the count of three then... one... two... three..." As the group disappeared and left Dumbledore, Hermione and Deanna, the Hufflepuff gasped and sat up.
"Deanna, are you alright?" asked Hermione immediately.
Deanna nodded shakily and looked at Dumbledore. "Pops, A-Arthur-"
"Is fine, love, you saved him," said Dumbledore, gently wrapping his arms around her. Hermione moved away slightly, but Deanna suddenly took her hand.
"Don't leave, it's cold," said Deanna quietly. Hermione's cheeks flushed as she moved closer to Deanna and intertwined their fingers. Dumbledore smiled at the two girls when there was another flash of flame and another golden feather fell to the floor.
"Go up to your room, love," said Dumbledore. "And bring Hermione with you." The two witches nodded and Hermione supported Deanna, and they quickly went up to her room. Hermione frowned when she saw the blood all around the room and especially on the bed.
"Evanesco," she muttered with a wave of her wand and the blood instantly vanished. With a grateful smile, Deanna sat on the bed while leaning on Hermione as Hermione looked around.
"So this is where you sleep," said Hermione, smiling slightly at the wallpaper of phoenixes. "It does suit you. You're Professor Dumbledore's little phoenix, right?"
"That I am," chuckled Deanna lightly as she patted the space beside her. A little confused, Hermione sat beside her, but her cheeks flushed when Deanna suddenly held out her hand in front of Hermione.
"D-Deanna?" said Hermione, flustered.
"Can I hold your hand?" asked Deanna meekly. "I-I feel cold."
"You don't have to ask, Deanna," said Hermione whose eyes softened as she took Deanna's hands in hers, her heart was beating uncontrollably, but Hermione was focusing on the way Deanna relaxed considerably and how adorable she looked, smiling at Hermione as if she had saved her life when all Hermione had done was hold her hand.
"Your hands are warm, Mione," said Deanna softly. "And soft." Hermione's breath hitched when Deanna suddenly leaned her head on Hermione's shoulder. She smiled softly and leaned her head against Deanna's, kissing the top of the Hufflepuff's head.
"Hold my hand anytime, love," said Hermione, not realizing the words coming out of her mouth. "When you feel cold, I'll be your warmth." Deanna's heart started beating faster as she lifted her head to look at Hermione. Their faces were inches apart, and Deanna could see just how brown her eyes were. Deanna could only stare into those honey brown eyes that were inexplicably warm just like Hermione's hands, just like Hermione herself, but what surprised Deanna was the soft smile on the Gryffindor's face. Deanna's eyes drifted off to Hermione's lips and she suddenly wondered what it would feel like to kiss those lips, to feel that softness on hers. What would happen if she did so?
Hermione was thinking the same as she looked at Deanna's slightly parted lips. She glanced at Deanna's eyes and her own eyes widened when she saw warmth and adoration in those light blue eyes that always had a twinkle to them. Then, she looked back at Deanna and smiled softly.
Hermione took in a deep breath before bravery suddenly rose in her and she started leaning in. Not knowing what she was doing, Deanna started doing the same. She leaned in towards Hermione, and their lips were 6 inches apart... 5... Deanna glanced at those brown eyes again. She just liked looking at Hermione's eyes. 4... Hermione intertwined their fingers when Deanna shivered slightly, knowing the Dumbledore hated the cold. 3... The scents of their breaths, floral from the Gryffindor and lemon from the Hufflepuff, mixed and were breathed in by the two. 2... Just one last move... 1...
The two girls jumped away from each other when there was a sudden cry behind them. They looked around to see that it was Fawkes. Though quite irritated at the phoenix, the two witches couldn't look each other in the eye, thinking about what almost happened. They were just about to kiss.
Deanna cleared her throat and leaned in again. Hermione's cheeks flushed and she closed her eyes instinctively when she felt a hand brush her cheek and a hair tuck behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered open and her face went even redder since she thought that Deanna would kiss her.
With pink cheeks, Deanna smiled innocently at the flustered Granger, whose face softened immediately. "Just a stray hair there, Mione." It was just a stray hair, but that action had made both witches' hearts beat even faster than they already were and feelings rise for the girl in front of them.
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