Chapter 459: Phoenix Rebirth
On the third day of the Easter holiday, everyone was cheerfully discussing their acquisitions from Hogsmeade.
"Hey, did you get into that shop? There were so many people I nearly couldn't squeeze in."
"Of course! And I'd be even happier if I had more gold Galleons. Thirty-seven Galleons—I swear by Merlin, I didn't even think it was expensive!"
"I've already written home. I expect to receive that magical little gadget very soon..."
Three upper-year students strolled past Sean. Their conversation was loud enough for everyone around them to hear, yet it failed to garner any special attention—because, in truth, that was all anyone was talking about.
At the Gryffindor table, those who usually loved collecting Chocolate Frog cards had abandoned their hobby; at the Ravenclaw table, students who frequented Sean's bookshop couldn't help but dream of those magical mirrors; even the Hufflepuffs suddenly felt that the sweets from Honeydukes weren't quite as delicious. They'd gladly trade a roast chicken, scavenged during a midnight hunger pang, for one of those mirrors.
Only at the Slytherin table was a small group huddled together, occasionally erupting into boisterous shouts.
"Master Malfoy, are these really...?" a short Slytherin asked curiously.
In the center of the crowd, Malfoy held his chin high. "They're quite nice, aren't they?" he said with a condescending smile. "Though, I suppose some people might be able to scrape together enough gold to buy one. The Weasleys, for instance—they could sell off their pile of junk mirrors. I'm sure some museum would pay for the scrap."
The Slytherins erupted in coarse laughter.
"Hey!" Ron, feeling the sting of the insult, immediately stood up.
Harry sat to his left, and suddenly, a passage from the Auror Manual Sean had given him flickered through his mind: During an official task, an Auror is in a state of emergency. Any unprovoked provocation or obstruction may be dealt with immediately.
It was strange... Harry thought, but he liked the feeling. Before, no one had ever told him what was right or wrong; he had been left to fumble through the dark. Now, he had an Auror's standard to measure himself by. If he could, he would become an Auror. His breath hitched at the thought.
"Harry..." Ron shook his arm, his eyes drifting repeatedly to the book on Harry's desk. It was so odd; ever since that Quidditch match, Harry had developed an inexplicable love for reading.
The mocking at the Slytherin table continued: "If you ask me, a Weasley belongs in—" Malfoy was in the middle of a grand speech when he suddenly choked off his words. A certain black-haired wizard clutching a stack of books was passing by.
Sean glanced once at the Slytherin table, then fixed his eyes on the stained-glass window. Dawn was breaking. He ignored the suddenly silent Slytherins and headed for the rotating staircase.
"Master Malfoy..." a faint voice squeaked. Malfoy glared at the speaker, and only once the black-haired wizard was gone did he resume his monologue.
Ron clearly didn't intend to let him continue. He marched straight toward the Slytherin table. Harry followed, and behind Harry, the Weasley twins popped out of nowhere.
"Hold onto this—" Fred yelped, pulling a mirror-like object from his bag. It was topped with a soft, plush horn and was stark white.
"My dear little Ronnie," George added, giving Ron's head a rough scrub with his fist. Ron stood dazed as Fred and George shoved the mirror into his hands.
"The museum gave us a bit of a reward," Fred said, winking at the Slytherins, specifically Marcus, the Quidditch captain. "A very generous reward... Alright, we still have to deliver one to Ginny—a seven-way mirror! Oh, right, Harry, here's yours. Don't forget to give the other one to the great Mr. Green."
George stuffed two more into Harry's hands, and the twins vanished like a gust of wind.
"Why is mine the Unicorn edition!" Ron wailed.
"Hey! It's beautiful!" retorted Parvati Patil from the Gryffindor table.
"I know... but, but... this isn't for boys!" Ron's face turned as red as a Fire-Ash snake.
"This is the Golden Snitch edition the Wizarding Weekly introduced," Harry said, watching in fascination as the mirror floated into the air, its two translucent wings buzzing as it trailed behind him.
"That's unfair—" Ron complained bitterly, losing all interest in observing Malfoy's fluctuating complexion.
Meanwhile, Sean's mirror rippled again. Over the last two days, the students' enthusiasm for calling one another had grown; often, the mirrors were left active, and Sean had grown used to the background noise. Usually, he was happy to listen in, but now...
Knock, knock, knock.
The door to the Headmaster's office swung open.
"An unconventional visitor, but I am always welcoming," Dumbledore's voice was as wise and kind as ever.
"Headmaster Dumbledore." As Sean entered, he saw Dumbledore signing a massive pile of parchment with a quill. Fawkes, the phoenix, perched on a golden stand by the door. He was as large as a swan, his scarlet and gold plumage dazzling. He bobbed his long tail feathers and blinked at Sean.
"Sit down," Dumbledore set aside his quill with a look of relief. He gazed at Sean with a twinkle in his eye. "My ears tell me that they are terribly eager to hear what a young mind has to say... Do you have any ideas regarding that stone, or perhaps our future? Any ideas at all?"
"Voldemort placed a powerful curse on the Resurrection Stone," Sean said. "It requires a magical being to wear it for the curse to take effect; otherwise, the stone remains inert."
"Oh, I suspected as much," Dumbledore replied, his eyes still twinkling.
"I think..." Sean glanced at Fawkes. The phoenix unceremoniously stepped on his shoulder with its talon.
"It is certainly feasible, and I am glad," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. "I am glad you didn't think of any other ideas... The day of rebirth is not far off, and dear Mr. Fawkes would be quite happy to do us a favor."
Dumbledore stroked the phoenix's head, and Fawkes affectionately pecked at the Headmaster's wrist. Sean felt a wave of relief. He knew that Fawkes could swallow a Killing Curse—and the Killing Curse was one of the most powerful magical phenomena in existence. He had always speculated whether Fawkes could swallow this curse as well. It seemed his guess had been correct.
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