XVII
'Where are you planning to go?'
"Most likely the USA. They understand my importance. My knowledge will ensure my safety. They will also keep me away from their Space program if only to retain their secrets."
'The enemies of my enemies and all that?'
Dmitr shrugs in a 'what can you do' kind of way. Not resigned exactly but in the way one does when they try to make the best of a shitty situation, which Harry understands all too well. It's then he really looks at Dmitr. At his young face contrasting with his too intelligent eyes. The light stubble on his jaw and the bags under his eyes speak of how tired he is, but there's an eagerness in him that let's one know he won't get rest until his curiosity is sated.
And this time his curiosity is focused on him.
"Breathe in and hold it as long as you can. Then breathe out," he says, the stethoscope still in his hands. "Don't speak."
"I talk to you with my thoughts."
An exasperated huff. "Yes, yes, and that's amazing, but some silence will be appreciated."
Harry does as he's been told and for a long while it's silent, the only rumor coming from the machines that surround them. When he finally breaths out and Dmitr shifts his attention to the notebook he's writing on, Harry speaks the question that's been on his mind for a while now.
'Why are you still here then if you have all planned out?'
Dmitr throws him a look that clearly questions his intelligence before blinking as if he's briefly forgotten he's talking with a bird.
"Well, we humans can't just do what I'm planning to and be free of repercussions. I needed to get some papers done first so I can be without the constant worry of having to look behind my back."
Harry very pointedly doesn't mention he isn't exactly a bird and understands more about humans than he thinks. It'll make him look dumber and for some reason, he cares about his opinion of him.
It's weird as he's cared little for the opinion of other's ever since he decided to live as a phoenix instead of human. He doesn't know if it's good either.
He looks at Dmitr, this time focusing not on his age or his tiredness but his facial features in general. How he holds himself, confident even while sitting. It's attractive, but is that what this is? A crush? He can't think it as a sexual attraction when he's never felt that when being a bird.
Perhaps he should search for more company, to clear his head and all that.
"What if I take you to where you want to go?"
XVIII
Sidelong Phoenix-travel is a bit complicated as he transforms himself in energy and travels through magic to the nearest place. He can travel to wherever he pictures like apparition, true, but it's more difficult as a phoenix. Whenever he took a friend with him, he always used another person as his focus. And while he can easily use the animals he has become friends with, the places they live are not human-friendly.
So yeah, no sidelong Phoenix-travel until he's practiced with it.
And that's the matter, Dimtr wants some proof of his transporting abilities before he accepts and the only place he currently can use as an anchor are bird-Marcus, the acromantulas, and the Chinese couple.
It's not hard to decide with those limited options as his only choices.
When he closes his eyes to check where they are, he finds them in a surprisingly busy place, so he makes sure to apparate in a spot where there are no people near.
They appear on a small hill, surrounded by trees. The weather is a little cold, but nothing like Russia climate. So it's good he didn't make Dimtr use the heavy coat and just one thick jacket was enough to protect from the wind.
"Where are we?" Dimtr asks after he stumbles and almost falls.
'China.'
Dimtr moves forward, away from the trees and where he can sense a group of people. He doesn't protest when Harry settles on his shoulders, merely grunting in surprise at the weight. Not that he can't protest, not when their gazes settle on the view in front of them.
There's a fight going on, a fight between one familiar man and a big group of people. The surprising part is the flames surrounding their bodies as they fight. The familiar flames he's becoming to associate with the mysterious power people have. The one he has, too. And apparently the one the pair have too.
Who knew they could hide it from him as much as they did? He always sensed it but it was more of a candle and not the bonfire he now feels from them.
He tears his gaze away when he hears the sound of a motor going on. Inspecting his surroundings, he is a bit startled to see what seems to be a small airport. Only a couple of planes on sight. All with enough space to fit five people inside.
There's only one functioning at the moment. And there's the woman he saved days ago with half of her body outside of the door of the plane, yelling something to the other man.
The man he's familiar with answers back as he keeps the group away from her and the plane, and going by the anguished expression on the woman's face, it's not what she wanted to hear. She yells again but at his stern shout she bites her lips and nods, going back inside.
The man keeps going on, but when the plane is finally away, it's like the fight has suddenly left him. He's smiling serenely as he fights but it's mostly him going through the motions. The flames he never once paid attention in and thought lifeless, grow in intensity and the calm they always had, becomes a torrent of energy so powerful it blinds him. His flames which now are greater than Dimtr's own take on a quantity that's just astounding.
It's a suicidal move, he realizes as he sees him not bothering to dodge anymore as he concentrates on his power, steadily increasing. The others in the group seem to sense it too, as they become restless and more aggressive in their pursuit to finish him off.
Harry, damn his bleeding heart, can't let it be over like this. Not when he spent days looking out for them.
He apparates just when he sees a man using the same electric power Dimtr has, shooting a bolt of green lightning at the man's torso, directly towards his heart.
XIX
Fawkes had his burning day every three years, according to the headmaster when he once asked him. He said it grew more common as the Phoenix grew old, so the first thing Harry asked himself after realizing what his animagus form was, was: will I have a burning day, too?
Years have passed but his burning day never came and soon he forgot about it. However, now, as the green light, so similar to the killing curse, shots him in the chest, he can feel it.
He burns brighter and something inside of him wants to let it all go and be reborn anew, but he grabs it and stops it from consuming him. It hurts but he ignores it.
The people around him stop to stare and he uses this time to sing. He sings a song, one of peace and understanding. One that he pours all his heart on, all his pain and experiences in battle and the tiredness he felt after killing and how empty it left him.
He wants them to understand, wants them to stop.
And thankfully they do.
One by one, the awed group kneels. He doesn't know what the man he just saved does, as he's behind him, but he doesn't care at the moment. Not when he has more to sing.
He says sorry, sorry to the scientist he brought here because he doesn't think he's going to be able to take him back, not at the moment at least.
With one last croon, one that speaks of uncertainty for what will happen next, he burns.
A large orange fire covers his form, engulfing all his being until he feels it in his veins. It's his fire, the fire of his soul that sings within him, a beautiful song of harmony.
It lasts a couple of seconds and then it's over. In the place of the majestic bird of legends, there's a man standing with dark hair and green eyes, only wearing an odd-looking pouch around his neck. The rest of him is bare as the day he was born.
He coughs and a small fire scales his mouth.
"Well, that happened," he muses to himself as he clenches his fist, first time in so long feeling his fingers.
There's anxiety inside of him at being surrounded by so many but he doesn't let it show.
He takes a step forward, towards the surprised kneeling people ready to give him a piece of his mind, and promptly stumbles and falls face first.
"Right. Forgot how to walk," he murmurs onto the floor.
As always, he sucks at making first impressions. Go him!
XX - THEN
Harry has developed something of routine whenever he doesn't have anything to do. Which happens more often than not now that his animagus form is out and all know about it. So, he usually wakes up at seven, goes down the stairs of the Grimmauld house ready to eat breakfast made by Kreacher, and then goes to grab some book from the library to learn something new to make interesting this monotone life he finds himself in.
Or at least that's what's supposed to happen today.
"What are you doing here?" he asks from where he's standing, wearing his pajamas.
Malfoy, the well-dressed bastard, just smirks. "Is this how the great Harry Potter spends his days?"
"Is morning, Malfoy. Normal people just wake up."
"Well, I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted. From now on you will wake up at five."
What.
"What?"
"Oh, Harry! Here you are!"
Harry turns around with just enough time to lift his arms and hug his friend. "Hermione!" he laughs as he takes a step back. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I heard about the reunion you've to go with Kingsley to meet some very important people and-"
"And she thought I would help."
He turns towards Malfoy. "Help? It's just a dinner, what-?"
"Exactly. Dinner with the ministers of other countries. You need to learn how to act, how to talk, how to eat."
"I know how to eat!" He turns to Hermione. "Right, 'mione?"
"Oh, Harry. I'm sorry but Draco is right. You're going to represent England here and with how the political climate is going on at the moment we need all the help."
"You can claim to be the most powerful wizard of our generation but if you act like a simpleton, then you'll ruin the little Goodwill we have with the other countries."
"Yeah, and whose father's fault is that?" he says icily. Soon he regrets it though. Malfoy's gaze grows cold and Hermione's disappointing turn of lips makes his stomach twist. He sighs. "I'm sorry. It's been a couple of stressful days."
"I heard," Malfoy says quietly. And he's grateful that he doesn't add a comment about his phoenix form. So damned grateful.
"Well, I'll be going then."
Harry blinks at Hermione. "Already? You just came."
"Well, you know how busy my days are nowadays," she says, hand briefly touching her stomach where new life is growing.
It's been three years now since Voldemort's death and everyone is moving on, quicker than before. He's been hailed as the next coming of Merlin and Harry is trying so hard to be what the people needed of him, studying and improving himself.
The spotlight was dying and the people could at least talk to him properly more or less. The newspapers no longer hunted him down and everything was starting to look up. However, he had been seen while changing forms. Now the hype is worse than before and hates it. But he can't ignore it, not when he's starting to make changes and England is moving forward towards equality.
That's why he accepted when Kingsley asked him to accompany him.
He shakes his head and sighs, returning to the moment. "I understand, Hermione," he says, grateful that the bitterness he feels doesn't come out in his voice.
It's been a month since the last he has seen her. Three months since he saw Ron.
They're distancing, not on purpose, of course, but it still hurts. So he says goodbye to Hermione with a smile and his face before turning to Malfoy, ready to start his torture.