Like A Phoenix From The Ashes
Prologue
By Kinsfire
The summons to the Headmaster’s office was unusual, to say the least, considering it was the winter holidays. Perhaps he wants to wish me a pleasant holiday or something, Harry snorted.
He neared the gargoyle, which slid aside as he approached it, so he took the exposed stairs to the door to the headmaster’s office, which was surprisingly open. Upon entering, he was even more surprised to find Pansy Parkinson and two people that he assumed were her parents in the office. "Headmaster. Pansy," he said, nodding.
"You surprise me, Po … I’m sorry, habits die hard. Harry. Given that we haven’t been the best of friends these past five and a half years, that was far more civil than I deserve."
Albus Dumbledore entered the conversation at this point. "Harry, may I introduce Miss Parkinson’s parents? These are Alonso and Aldonza Parkinson."
"Don and Doña Parkinson, I am pleased to make your acquaintance." He bowed over the offered hand from Pansy’s mother.
"Quite well read a young man, I see," Mister Parkinson said in a quintessentially upper class British voice.
"When all you can do over a summer besides chores is read the books your cousin doesn’t want to, you learn a lot. I’m surprised you didn’t name your daughter Dulcinea."
Aldonza laughed. "We thought about it," she said, a hint of Spanish to her words, "but we decided that honouring one of my friends would be a better thing. I knew your mother, Mister Potter. She stood by us when we scandalized the school by dating." She grinned. "Check the Gryffindor rolls for the years that your mother was here."
"Be that as it may be," Pansy said, interjecting herself back into the conversation, "we need to talk to you, Harry."
"About what?" he asked warily.
"I may be Slytherin, but the Hat almost put me in Ravenclaw. Let me tell you what I’ve come up with, and then show you something. Since coming to this school in nineteen ninety one, you have had problems four of those five years with some git who didn’t have the good graces to die almost sixteen years ago." She held up her hand, holding one finger up. "First year, Professor Quirrell hosts Voldemort. You deal with him." She ticked her second finger into the air, making a V with them. "Second year, that stupid diary that everyone knows Lucius Malfoy gave to Ginny Weasley but no one can prove it — you fight Voldemort again, or at least a memory of him. And win. Again." Up came another finger to make a W. "Third year was Sirius Black, but we’ll ignore that year for now, since he had nothing to do with Voldemort. Fourth year was the infamous Tri-Wizard Tournament where the fake Professor Moody slipped your name into the Goblet. I’m sorry for the ‘Potter Stinks’ badges, by the way." Harry nodded, and motioned that she continue. "The whole year goes on, and you return carrying Cedric’s body. Despite the fact that it was bloody obvious that he was killed with an Avada Kedavara, and that your wand hadn’t been the one to cast it, since you weren’t in Azkaban shortly thereafter, the Ministry, in its infinite stupidity, decrees that Voldemort isn’t back, and that you’re just an insane student for saying that he is." Up came her fourth finger, leaving only her thumb folded across her palm. "Last year, when this man, in his infinite wisdom," she said, pointing at Dumbledore, "deemed it necessary to abandon you to the good graces of the Head of my House." She turned to Dumbledore. "I may be a student, sir, but I’d really like to know the logic you were using. But that’s for later." She looked back to Harry. "We had Delores Umbridge (a more worthless waste of space I have never met), who had unbelievable fun destroying the morale of the student body."
"You were part of her Inquisitorial Squad," Harry pointed out acidly.
"True. I’ve also been Draco Malfoy's sycophant. It’s called survival, Harry. The Hat insisted I’d do better in Slytherin, so there I went. We’ve been purebloods for a long time, and I’ve been pretty sure that Lucius Malfoy was going to make a concerted effort to join our fortunes together. Hence, I need to be nice to the … ahem … person who can make my life hell." She laughed. "Especially if he knew I’ve been lying to him these past five and a half years." She pulled out her wand and cast a spell, and her features changed. She was still quite obviously Pansy Parkinson, but now she was … Well, to be honest, Harry thought to himself, she’s really rather pretty! Oh gods — ‘Pretty Pansy Parkinson’! He smiled unconsciously.
"Let me guess — ‘Pretty Pansy Parkinson’?" she asked. "I heard that a lot growing up. Luckily, I didn’t meet Malfoy until I got here. That is neither here nor there, however. At the end our fifth year, you ended up facing Voldemort down in the Department of Mysteries. Four times you’ve faced that monster, and four times you’ve won." She took a deep breath, and Harry admitted to himself that he was hard pressed to keep his eyes on her face — she was quite attractive with all the glamours off her. "I want to be on the winning side, and any tattoo going on this body is one of my choosing, both appearance and placement. If I stay with Draco, then I will basically be forced to become a Death Eater just to stay alive."
"Where do you come into this?" Harry asked her parents.
In response, they bared their left arms showing them to be clear. "We’re being pressured by Lucius Malfoy to take the mark, or else … something could happen." Alonso grumbled. "Bastard couldn’t stay in Azkaban where he belongs, could he?" He looked Harry in the eyes. "We need protection. Our household is safe, by and large. We’ve moved all the things we truly don’t want to lose into our Gringott’s vault. If Voldemort and his sycophants manage to bring down the house, then we lose a fine mansion, but nothing we’d truly mourn. But we don’t want to be there if they bring it down."
Aldonza picked up. "And our daughter suggested we talk to you. If a student at Hogwarts is able to escape someone reputed to be the most powerful dark wizard of this age — well, to be honest, we want to be on that wizard’s good side."
"Honest," Harry chuckled. "You realize that it would be very hard to go back to Voldemort after you side with me?"
"Impossible, you mean," Alonso said. "We’ve thought long and hard about this, and we talked to Pansy, and decided to talk to you."
"Why me, though? You really haven’t answered that, Pansy."
"Magic is a funny thing, Harry. I’m betting that when he tried to kill you in eighty-one, he actually forged a connection with you. I’d bet all the money I own that he’s now set things so that only you can kill him permanently. If he had a brain in his head, he’d realize that, and run very far away from you."
Harry met Dumbledore’s eyes, and was interested to see that the man’s eyebrows were threatening to climb into his hairline. Harry turned back to the three Parkinsons and spoke. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." He met their eyes. "That was what Moldieshorts was after at the end of last year. You were right, Pansy."
Alonso looked at Dumbledore. "What sort of training has the boy — I apologize, Harry — has Harry received to fight Voldemort?"
"Nearly none," Harry interrupted. "Occlumency with a teacher who hates me, and extra-curricular spell study in third year with the only effective Defence teacher we’ve ever had. Beyond that, anything I’ve learned has been with the help of Hermione Granger."
"Is this true?" Alonso asked of the headmaster.
"One of many mistakes I have made in these last years. I had wished him to have as normal a childhood as possible." Harry muttered something below the level of hearing of everyone in the room except for Fawkes, apparently, who flew over and landed on his shoulder.
"Then he has at least been protected during the summers when he not at school?" Aldonza asked.
"Of course," Dumbledore responded with some asperity, while Harry snorted.
"Explain, please," Alonso requested, so Harry carefully described his life with the Dursleys. Everyone in the room was horrified except for Harry.
When he was done, Pansy surprised everyone by grinning. "Are you insane, daughter?" Aldonza asked. "You are happy at his treatment?"
"Don’t be ridiculous, mother," Pansy snapped back. "Think about it, however. What he grew up with should have turned him into someone even worse than Voldemort. Instead, he’s a kind, gentle man with a heart bigger than those who had normal lives have. I’ve been his enemy for five and a half years, and I already know that he’s at least contemplating helping us." She laughed once. "And he’s fought Voldemort four times and remained alive, and that’s with no training from the very people who should want him to win. We’ve made the right decision throwing our fortunes along with his, mother. He’ll win — of that I have no doubt now."
"That makes one of us," Harry muttered.
"We’ve decided to join our fortunes with yours, Harry. Our daughter believes in you, and she knows of you far better than I do. Our question now is how we go about protecting ourselves."
Harry closed his eyes for a moment, obviously lost in thought. When he opened them again, he obviously had a plan in mind. "Do you mind living on the outskirts of a Muggle town, out in the middle of nowhere?"
"We have some dealings with Muggles," Alonso replied. "I work behind the scenes more than anything else, but I am not one of the Purebloods who detests anything Muggle. I own many businesses that straddle the line between the worlds. Do you think wizards make all the cauldrons that you students and we adults use for our potions? Who grows the food that we eat? The interface is rarely seen, but is there, and both worlds would be poorer in many ways without that interface, the least of which is monetarily."
Harry nodded. "There is a house in a town called Godric’s Hollow. You move there in the dark of night some night, and live there until it’s safe."
"Harry," Dumbledore warned, but Harry interrupted.
"Pansy is known to be my enemy, Professor. She’s one of those eeee-vil Slytherins, remember? Why would Harry Potter give his enemy’s parents a house to live in? Besides, it’s mine, or will completely officially be mine on this upcoming July thirty-first."
He turned to Pansy. "Our next problem is you. We need to get to know each other better, obviously. You were caught, somehow, concerning one of the pranks Draco pulled these last few months. Rather than incur the wrath of your House, you took all the blame, as a good little sycophant should." He grinned as he saw her eyes light up — she knew where he was going with this. "In sentencing you, rather than take points, you and I have been forced to study together. Some half-baked notion about House unity. We will work Potions together, study together, and even eat meals together. Others may join us if they choose, but I am forced to work with you until at least the end of the year. We can actually become friends that way, and you can play it off Draco as getting inside information."
"Are you sure you're not a Slytherin, Harry?" Pansy said with an admiring smile. "That was brilliant!"
"The Sorting Hat wanted me there," he said simply. "I'd met Draco first, though, so you can imagine how I felt about being in his house."
"I know how I feel about being in his house. Pardon the language, but just be glad you're not his bitch." She growled. "And I mean that in a breeding sense. He expects to marry me because our family is wealthier than Daphne's." She looked at him again. "Let's put it this way, Harry. I would rather marry Ron Weasley, knowing that he hates me and that it would always be a loveless marriage, than to marry Draco Malfoy."
"Not likely on that," Harry snorted. "Ron's shagging Hermione Granger, and has been since the summer."
"Does that bother you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his voice carrying his worry easily.
"Them dating? No. She made her choice, and now I can contemplate Ginny. Them lying to me since July about not having a relationship? I expect that Ron has been able to convince Hermione that it would make me feel left out if two of the Golden Trio started dating. Their lying bothers me. And I have no intention on letting them know that I know."
"How did you find out?" Pansy asked.
"Ginny told me that they were dating. She also accidentally discovered that they had gotten intimate. Stumbled across them without them ever knowing." He laughed. "She told me she was going to scrub her eyeballs after seeing her brother naked." He looked skyward. "Come to think of it, I room with the guy. I think I'd be the same way," he laughed.
He turned to Pansy. "I won't lie to you, Pansy. I'm going to be watching you. But this is either a plan on Voldemort's part that shows far better planning than he's used in the past five years, or the truth. This could destroy you if this goes wrong."
"I'd know you were lying if you said you trusted me, Harry. I've spent five years being a thorn in your side."
He smiled and held out his hand. "Hi. Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."
She grinned in response and took the proffered hand. "Pansy Parkinson. Pleased to meet you as well."
Don't worry, this chapter has meaning ...
Ginny's birthday and the aftermath come next.