BY THE NEXT MORNING, THE SNOW THAT had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of term was canceled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, now that it was so important for the Madrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs Norris and Colin Creevey.

Harry fretted about this as the four of them were sitting in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harper was watching Ron absolutely destroy Hermione in a game of wizard chess.

"For heaven's sake, Harry," Hermione said, exasperated, as one of Ron's bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him off the board. "Go and find Justin if it's so important to you."

"I'll go with you," Harper said, standing up. "Ron's going to win anyway, no offense, Hermione."

"None taken," she muttered under her breath.

Harper followed Harry through the portrait hole and down the staircase. The castle was darker than it usually was in daytime, because of the thick, swirling grey snow at every window. Shivering, the two of them walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was happening within.

Professor McGonagell was shouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a badger. Harper wanted to take a look but Harry pulled her with him to the library.

A group of Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbology were sitting at the back of the library, but they didn't seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Harper could see that their heads were close together and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation. She was about to walk towards them when Harry pulled her with him into the Invisibility section and listened to their conversation.

"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was a Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely thinks it is Potter, then, Ernie?" a girl with blonde pigtails said anxiously.

"Hannah," the stout boy began, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."

There was some heavy murmuring at this and Ernie went on.

"Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch's cat's attacked. That first-year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know, Creevey's been attacked."

"He always seems so nice, though," Hannah said uncertainty, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"

Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, Harry and Harper edged nearer so that they could catch Ernie's words.

"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that."

He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper.

"That's probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding . . ."

That was it. Harper had heard enough. She strode over to their table and looked at them with rage.

"How dare you insulting my brother like that! I thought Hufflepuffs were kind and gentle, guess I was wrong." She turned to Ernie. "Did you forget that time Harry helped you finish your Charms homework by letting you copy his work?" She turned to Hannah. "Or that time he helped you with your Transfiguration homework?" Both of them were looking embarrassed by now.

"I cannot believe it," Harper went on, her hands on her hips and her hazel eyes dangerously narrowed. "You should be ashamed!" She leaned over the table, closer to the Hufflepuffs who quickly backed away from her. "If you ever dare to say something like that ever again, if you just think about Harry being the heir, I will send a three headed dog your way. You're messing with the wrong family."

With that, Harper turned on her heels and stormed out of the library, earning a disapproving glare from Madam Pince, who was polishing the gilded cover of a large spell book. She leaned against the wall and waited for Harry. A couple minutes later, he too stormed out of the library.

"You scared the hell out of them," he said, smiling faintly. "Remind me to never get into a fight with you. You're pretty scary."

Harper laughed and rubbed his hair. "You're my family, I'll always be on your side."

The two of them walked up the corridor and collided into something very large and solid, making them knock backwards onto the floor.

"Oh, hullo, Hagrid," Harry said, standing up and pulling Harper with him.

Hagrid's face was entirely hidden by a woolly, snow-covered balaclava, but it couldn't possibly be anyone else, as he filled most of the corridor in his moleskin overcoat. A dead rooter was hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.

"All righ', Harry, Harp?" he said, pulling up the balaclava so he could speak. "Why aren't yeh in class?"

"Cancelled," Harper replied. "What're you doing in here?"

Hagrid held up the limp rooster.

"Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm round the hen-coop."

He peered more closely at them from under his thick, snow-flecked eyebrows.

"Yeh sure yeh're alright? Yeh look all hot an' bothered."

"It's nothing," Harry replied. "We'd better get going, Hagrid, it's Transfiguration next and we've got to pick up our books."

They walked off but Harper could tell Harry was still bothered by Ernie's words.

"Don't let it get into you, Harry," she said. "They were acting like idiots. No—they are idiots who don't know any better. But I do."

They turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark, the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draught which was blowing through a loose window pane. They were halfway down the passage when Harry tripped headlong over something lying on the floor, dragging Harper with him when he tried to grab for something—or in this case someone—to keep him upright.

Harper groaned and pushed herself off the cold floor while looking at what they'd fallen over. Her stomach dissolved as soon as she saw it.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blackly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight she had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.

"Bloody hell," Harper muttered, getting to her feet. Her heart was doing a kind of drum-roll against her ribs. She looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sound were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.

"Bloody hell," she repeated again, beginning to understand in what kind of mess they were currently in. "Harry, come on, we need to go. If they catch you here with them . . . I can't imagine what they would do."

Before they could run, a door next to them shot open with a bang. Peeves the poltergeist came shooting out.

"Why, it's potty wee Potters!" Crackled Peeves, knocking Harry's glasses askew as he bounced past them. "What are Potters up to? Why are Potters lurking—"

Peeves stopped, halfway through a mid-air somersault. Upside-down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before Harper could stop him, screamed.

"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Crash—crash—crash: door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearlu Headless Nick. Harry and Harper found ourselves pinned against the wall as the teachers shouted for quiet.

Professor McGonagell came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had black and white striped hair. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restores silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene.

"Caught in the act!" Ernie yelled, his stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at the two of us. "And this time, he has a handlanger!"

"That will do, Macmillan!" Professor McGonagell said sharply.

Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke into song.

"Oh Potters, you rotter, oh what have you done? You're killing off students, you think it's good fun . . ."

"That's enough Peeves!" Professor McGonagell barked and Peeves zoomed away backwards, with his tongue out at Harry and Harper.

Justin was carried up to the Hospital Wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagell conjured a large fan of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This left Harry, Professor McGonagell and Harper alone together.

"This way, Potters," she said.

"Professor," Harry said at once, "I swear we didn't . . ."

"This is out of my hands, Potters," Professor McGonagell said curtly.

They marched in silence around a corner and she stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

"Sherbet lemon!" she said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life, and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase which was moving smoothly upwards, like an escalator. As Harry, Professor McGonagell and Harper stepped onto it, she heard the wall thud closed behind them. They rose upwards in circles, a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffon. Harper realized that this must be Dumbledore's office.

They stepped off the stone staircase at the top and Professor McGonagell rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered. Professor McGonagell told them to wait and left them there, alone.

Harper's eyes glided over the room and found a shabby, tattered wizard's hat—the Sorting Hat. She tugged at Harry's sleeve and pointed at the hat. Before she could stop him, he walked around the desk, lifted the Hat from its shelf and lowered it slowly onto his head.

Harper frowned. What was he doing?

"Er, yes," she could hear Harry mutter. "Er—sorry to bother you—I wanted to ask . . ."

The Hat probably interrupted him and guessing what he answered, Harper could tell Harry wasn't satisfied with it. He grabbed the point of the Hat and pulled it off. It hung limply in his hand, grubby and faded. Harry pushed it back onto its shelf, not meeting her eye.

"You're wrong," her brother spoke up and Harper put her hand on his shoulder in comfort. Just then, a strange, gagging noise behind them made them wheel around.

They weren't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird which resembled a half-plucked turkey. It was a Phoenix. Harry and Harper stared at it and the Phoenix looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. Its eyes were dull and a couple more feathers fell out of its tail. Then the Phoenix burst into flames.

Next to her, Harry yelled in shock and backed away into the desk.

"Harry, it's all right," Harper soothed him. "It's normal. It probably was his time."

"Your sister is right, Harry," a voice behind them said, and the two of them twirled around.

Dumbledore had come in, looking very somber.

"But . . . how?" Harry stuttered.

"Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him . . ."

Harry and Harper looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, new-born bird poke its head out of the ashes.

"It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," Dumbledore said, seating himself behind the desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time: wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers and they make highly faithful pets."

His light-blue eyes settled on us and Harper immediately remembered why we were here in the first place. However, before Dumbledore could speak another word, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes, his balaclava perched on top of his shaggy black head and the dead rooster still swinging from his hand.

"It wasn't Harry and Harper, Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid said urgently. "I was talkin' ter them seconds before that kid was found, they never had time, sir . . ."

Dumbledore tried to say something, but Hagrid went ranting on, waving the rooster around in his agitation, sending feathers everywhere.

". . . It can't' ve bin them, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to . . ."

"Hagrid, I . . ."

". . . Yeh've got the wrong kids, sir, I know Harry and Harper never . . ."

"Hagrid!" Dumbledore said loudly. "I do not think that Harry and Harper attacked those people."

"Oh," Hagrid said, the rooster falling limply at his side. "Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmaster." And he stomped out looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was us, Professor?" Harry repeated hopefully, as Dumbledore brushed rooster feathers off his desk.

"No, Harry, I don't," Dumbledore said, though his face was somber again. "But I still want to talk to the both of you."

Harry and Harper waited nervously while Dumbledore considered them, the tips of his long fingers together.

"I must ask you, Harry, Harper, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," he said gently. "Anything at all."

Harper didn't speak up, nor did she glance at Harry. It was his call whether or not to tell Dumbledore.

"No," Harry lied, "there isn't anything, Professor."

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August 14th 2022
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)