Phoenix Burning

Patronusmagic

It's funny how something that once held so much warmth and safety can suddenly be the last place that you want to be. Harry stood in the shadow of a large yew tree, staring up at the looming castle, suddenly feeling sick. Had the windows always stared down at him like that? Like the depths of the castle were infiltrating his very soul, warping his emotions into that of dread and fear? Did it always look like a beast on its haunches ready to pounce.

Hogwarts was no longer the safe place it used to be. The stone walls and many turrets held too many bad memories. And though the traumatic events of last year hadn't happened in the castle itself, they were still attached to the school Harry once called home. Much like it had attached to Harry itself. Sirius stood back slightly, watching Harry's face pale as he looked up at the castle with dread.

It wasn't that Harry didn't want to go back. If it gave him a small sense of normality to go through the mundane process of school, meals, sleep, socialise then so be it. But Harry no longer felt any attachment to his school. It had been twisted and warped by dark magic, by trauma. He no longer felt safe.

"You'll be safe," Sirius promised, dropping the old boot that had been used as a portkey.

They had elected to travel this way to the school, rather than the option of the Hogwarts Express. Harry had silently agreed with himself thast it would be too much soon. There would be too many people, too many reminders of what had happened months prior. People would surround him, wanting to know, wanting the dirty little details of the events in the maze that night. Just the thought had Harry's heart thumping wildly, had sweat pouring down his back. He leant against the tree, always constantly aware of his surroundings.

The pulsing warmth of his wand against his wrist only made him feel slightly safer. There was enemies everywhere. He had to be constantly vigilant. For fear of attack. Sirius was looking at him worrisomely and it occurred to Harry that his godfather had spoken.

"Sorry, what?" Harry said jerkily.

Sirius smiled weakly. "I said you'll be safe. Dumbledore has aurors protecting the entrances and the wards have been tripled. No one can hurt you."

Despite these reassurances. It didn't stop the sharp pulse of fear Harry felt whenever he looked towards the castle. Those walls contained so many nightmares. They were now the homes of dark thoughts. Of suffering.

"I know. I'm fine." he said offhandedly, waving Sirius' concern off like it didn't really matter.

"Right. Well Remus will be here in a minute. He wants to say goodbye. Then I'll walk you up to Dumbledore's office. You'll be fine, Harry. I promise."

Harry nodded but his throat was dry. How could be fine? Voldemort was back. Harry would not be safe until the maleficent dark lord was six feet under. "I know." Harry nodded, legs weak. In all honesty. He didn't want Sirius to leave him. If Sirius left him, then he'd be left entirely at the mercy of his demons. Although Harry didn't really allow Sirius to get close to him anymore, Sirius' mere presence was enough to give him a slight feeling of safety.

"And don't forget. I'm still teaching this year." Sirius said reassuringly.

Harry relaxed slightly. He had forgotten that his godfather had been offered a permanent position on the Hogwarts team. It had been the first spark of happiness that Harry had felt in so long. To know that should he need it, Sirius would be close by, allowed Harry to feel even the slightest bit safer.

That wasn't the only reason Harry was dreading his return to Hogwarts. Madame Pomfrey had arrived at their home the previous night to tell Harry that he would need to see her once a month in order to check up on the progress of the healing of his spine. He'd been quite shocked to learn of the extent of his injuries and even more surprised when he found that he had no pain like the Hogwarts Matron had anticipated. And though Harry was no stranger to pain, surely something as serious as a cracked vertebrae would hurt. Even slightly. Unless Harry was blocking it all out in favour of more relevant things.

Like the fact that his friend was laying in a St Mungos Hospital bed, slowly dying under a simulated death curse.

He still hadn't been allowed to see Cedric. And it was many times that Harry wondered if he actually had died and that people were keeping it from him in order to preserve his mental health. No, Harry was not looking forward to these checks at all! They were sure to be uncomfortable – even painful.

Remus popped into the clearing, slightly out of his breath as he clutched Harry's trunk and a disgruntled Hedwig who didn't seem to appreciate the feeling of apparation. Harry flinched back, falling back to Sirius, who had to scramble to prevent him falling to the ground. Remus looked guilty and reached out. Almost as if to put a hand on Harry's shoulder. But Harry flinched away from touch, turning to the Hogwarts gates as if they would provide him salvation.

He could feel the concerned glances that the two men exchanged over his shoulders. But he suddenly didn't care. All he cared about was getting into the castle, in between the protections. He could worry about everything else later. The gate creaked open with a loud, jarring squeak that felt quite eerie and Harry stepped into the narrow walkway that lead towards a T-junction, each leading to the lake or the Quidditch Pitch respectively. Harry looked at that with a hint of trepidation. It was no longer a place he could go to fly and forget his worries. It was here that had sent them to that graveyard. Here that had basically killed his friend.

He kept his eyes to the ground as they bypassed the Quidditch and walked up the massive sloping lawns towards the magical castle. All was quiet at the moment, with the lack of students bustling around. When they stepped into the castle, Harry felt an odd sense of relief. He had been half expecting to have a full scale meltdown when he stepped into the Entrance Hall.

But the opposite happened. A large sense of safety cocooned itself around Harry like a warm blanket on a cold day.

"All right?" Sirius whispered voice made Harry jump as his hand instinctively went to his wand. Sirius looked slightly guilty at the expression on Harry's face and backed away slightly.

"Ah, Harry, Remus, Sirius. You arrived. I trust your journey was satisfactory?"

At the sight of the centurion headmaster, Harry was overwhelmed by a huge, burning ball of anger and hatred took him by surprise. It was like someone had taken him over in the moments it took for Dumbledore to descend the grand staircase and stand before them, beaming genially at the three men. Though Harry had every right to be angry at Dumbledore – he had allowed Harry to compete in the tournament" after all – he couldn't understand where the hatred had come from. He had never felt something like that for anyone before not even the Dursleys. To feel that, to feel it so strongly disconcerted Harry greatly. It had almost been as if it was coming from an outside source, from something indirectly connected to him nonetheless.

It hadn't been the first time that this happened. Often Harry would feel a sudden sense of euphoria, of anger and it almost always was accompanied by a fierce burning in his scar that had him scrambling for the toilet on more than one occasion. Dumbledore frowned at him, as if he had caught something in Harry's emerald eyes but held out a welcoming arm, sweeping it grandly in a gesture of welcome.

"Yes. Thank you, sir." Sirius said through gritted teeth.

Harry noticed that his fists were clenched at his side, jaw tensed, muscles working furiously. Lupin looked vaguely uncomfortable as he toyed with the handle of Harry's trunk, unsure whether to join in the three way staring match that seemed to be taking place.

"I trust that appropriate arrangements have been made for your safe return?" Dumbledore surveyed Remus over half moon spectacles, just a hint of worry evident.

The reality hit Harry with a sudden punch to the gut. Now that Voldemort was back, people like Remus would be in grave danger. Muggleborns, half-breeds, werewolves. No one would be safe under Voldemorts iron fisted tyranny. But people susceptible to hatred such as Remus and such as Hermione would bear the brunt of the horror that was to be unleashed upon the wizarding world.

"Yes, sir. I am due to apparate back home shortly. The appropriate wards have been erected to ensure my safety."

The guilt was like a punch in the stomach. It was Harry's fault that Remus was suffering like this. Being exposed to a curfew like a child and having ward after ward descending upon his small, ramshackle cottage. Some of which eroded the genteel material from which the house was built. The stress, combined with Remus' lycanthropy was obviously taking its toll. The man was pale and drawn, and thinner than ever. His hands shook ever so slightly, a side effect of the extreme stress that Remus was under.

"Excellent. Now, my dear boy," Dumbledore turned to Harry, the genial smile back on his face. "I wondered if I might have a conversation with you. In my office if that is most convenient."

Instinctively, Harry's eyes shot to Sirius. He had a look of a man who didn't agree with what was happening but had no choice but to let the horror unfold. "Very well. I have matters I need to attend to. Stay safe, Harry. I'll see you at the feast." Sirius stepped forwards and wrapped Harry in an awkward hug before beckoning Remus to him.

Harry was beyond confused. It wasn't like Sirius to just leave him like that. Normally, he fought and spat vehemently where Harry was concerned. His abandonment stung. Quite fiercely.

"No matter, Harry. Sirius knows you're in safe hands, despite his vehement exclamations against me at this present time." Dumbledore chuckled but it was a sad laugh that did not reach his eyes. He shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"Okay, Sir. Let's do this." he sighed.

"Take a seat, Harry. Lemon drop?"

Harry shook his head at the offer of candy and settled himself in the large wingback chair, sighing slightly as his aching muscles relaxed. Dumbledore settled into the chair behind his desk, surveying Harry over half moon spectacles. This wasw once an icon of comfort, of safety. Now it only served to remind Harry of the horror of last summer. Of the scared little boy that had shivered in the very same chair as the headmaster told him that the events that had transpired were never Harry's fault.

"How did you enjoy your holiday? I hope it was quite pleasant?"

Harry squirmed unpleasantly. Obviously Dumbledore hadn't elarnt of Harry's meltdown on holiday, resulting in their premature return. Well he wasn't about to either.

"It was fine, thank you, sir." Harry said slowly, feigning interest in his lap.

Harry heard Dumbledore sigh: shift a little in his seat. "Harry, there are some things I need to discuss with you and that can only be done if you are not feigning interest in your lap."

Harry flushed and looked up into the headmaster's face, burning slightly under his heavy glare.

"First of all, Harry I wish to commend you. Not a lot of people could go through what you have been through and come out the other side, relatively unscathed. I am rather proud, my son."

Harry blushed at the unexpected praise and nodded, unable to speak. Dumbledore sat up straighter, reaching out a bony hand to stroke Fawkes, who had cracked one eye open and was staring blearily at Harry. It always creeped Harry out how Fawkes eyes looked exactly the same as Dumbledore's if you caught them in the right light.

"Thank you, sir." Harry said, playing with his fingers disinterestedly. "No mean to be rude or anything. Buy why am I here?"

Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "Ah, the impatience of youth. In my many years, I have rather forgotten. Now-" Dumbledore leaned forwards, blue meeting green as he stared straight into Harry's soul. "Things may be a little different this year, Harry. You may find yourself questioning the motives behind the actions that are to happen. You may not like them, but all I ask of you, Harry. Is to give us the time of the day and to just listen.

"First of all. The protections around the school have been tripled since your depatrure in June. We have had a rather talented friend of mine, who is gifted in rune carving, create the strongest wards the world has to offer. Not only that, but added protection had been layered around the Gryffindor Tower and any places you might frequent. Trips to Hogsmeade will be protected by Aurors and teachers, all of whom are fully trained. And the duelling club, run by Professor Snape will be set up again. You will always be protected.

"As for, ahem. More personal issues. I have taken the issue of asking a very good friend of mine to aid you in your struggles of the aftermath of last year. You will no longer be alone, Harry. This person is more than proficient and if you just allow him to. He can really help you."

"Who is it?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

"Professor Snape."

"OH HELL NO!"

Harry dove to his feet, chest heaving, fave burning with anger as he stared at the compulsively headmaster. Fawkes squawked indignantly at Harry's sudden burst of anger and fluttered to land on the back of Dumbledore's chair. The portraits, which had been pretending to be asleep muttered angrily at the 'rude awakening'. Harry pointed a shaking hand at the headmaster, feeling the world close in around him.

He couldn't breathe. He was going to faint. Where had all this fog come from?

He was vaguely aware of something warm and heavy on his shoulders. Of a cold tint against his lips and a foul taste in his mouth. Harry found himself backed into a corner of the room, with the concerned headmaster leaning over him. He turned away, ashamed and ran a shaky hand through his sweaty hair.

"I'm sorry, my boy. I didn't intend for that to happen." Dumbledore looked and sounded so sad that Harry just nodded weakly, lowering his shaky body back into the chair.

There was no way. No way in hell that he was going to let Snape toy with his mind. Not when it was fragile enough already. The man hated him for goodness sake!

"Harry. Professor Snape is a professional. He will put aside any personal feelings he may or may not harbour for you. Please, at least consider it." Dumbledore said, eyes begging, pleading.

Harry sighed. "Okay, sir." Harry said. "I'll consider it."

As Harry left Dumbledore's office half an hour later, he was hit with a sudden feeling of dread. Just what had Harry let himself in for?

Another (admittedly short) chapter written. Quick question, would anyone read a Harry/Draco fic if I were to write one? It wouldn't be a dirty one, but it would be a sort of dark/tragedy romance.