MC4A Challenge: Phoenix and Basilisk

Bonus Challenges: Second Verse: (Mouth of Babes)

For Jetainia, Happy Birthday

Harry wasn't the same after the Basilisk. He felt himself dying but then Fawkes came and saved him with his tears.

Since then, he hasn't felt right. There were times where he was burning up to the point that even Aunt Petunia made him go lie down. She would never take him to the doctor, they might notice his malnourishment, but she wasn't going to let him handle their food if he was running a fever.

One morning, he woke to find his eyes burning something horribly. He tried looking at them in the mirror but didn't find much out of the ordinary. Well, perhaps they looked slightly brighter than normal. After splashing his face with water, he went downstairs and plunked down at the kitchen table between Dudley and Uncle Vernon. They didn't notice, too absorbed in the news program which was reporting on an escaped convict.

As he munched on toast, Harry fancied a wonder at what it would be like to come downstairs to breakfast on a day like his birthday and find his favorite breakfast cooked especially for him. He didn't have a favorite breakfast, though. Aunt Petunia would never make him the waffles or pancakes that she would make Dudley.

"Ick!" Aunt Petunia screeched, causing Harry to drop his toast.

He followed her eyes to his shoulder but found no ink stain or dandruff.

"Disgusting!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed, eyeing the spot just out of his nephew's vision. "Go on, get away before you infect the lot of us!"

Harry scrambled to his feet and rushed to the mirror in the parlor. He craned his neck and found that the brown skin on his jaw had gone scaly. He recalled the time when he was in primary school and painted his hand with glue just for the satisfaction of peeling it. Harry scratched at the spot and studied the small flakes of skin that came off on his nails.

How odd.

Though he had promised not to use Hedwig to send letters, Harry was willing to take the risk. He ran up the stairs to his room and wrote a letter to Dumbledore. Dumbledore would know what to do. He mentioned the skin, the burning eyes, and anything else that came to mind. He then dared to hope that maybe Dumbledore would take him away for the rest of the summer. Hell, he'd spend the summer with the Malfoys if it meant he wouldn't have to do his homework in the dead of night and Hedwig could have more freedom.

Things got worse.

Not only was Aunt Marge, a horrid woman who loved to torment Harry as much as her brother, staying, but Harry's chance to go to Hogsmeade rode on his politeness towards her.

Halfway through the week, Harry received a reply from Dumbledore.

Dear Harry,

You have faced many hardships this past year and you are lucky to be alive. You are of an age where your body is going through changes and I'm sure that if you ask your uncle will be more than happy to explain. Do not worry and enjoy the remainder of your summer.

Sincerely,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

P.S. Please, try to remain in the house and out of trouble.

Harry scowled. That's it? Did Dumbledore even read his letter? Puberty didn't consist of burning eyes and scales and now Harry was craving odd foods. Just the other night he became tempted to try the dead mouse Hedwig brought home from her night out. Luckily, he stopped himself, but he had hardly eaten anything at dinner, due to his eagerness to get away from Marge. The mouse was just still warm and he could smell the blood…

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Harry crumpled up the letter and dropped it in the rubbish bin before writing a new one, pleading with Dumbledore to take this matter more seriously. That there was something wrong beyond teenage hormones and he even added that Aunt Marge's nasty bulldog bit him, causing him to bleed.

Again, he received a letter consisting of Dumbledore telling him to not worry and to stay home. This stung and had Harry seeing red.

Crying out in surprise, he dropped the letter which had burst into flames in his hands. He stomped it out and swept the ashes in his hand, picking as much as he could out of the carpet. That was odd… it must have been accidental magic. There wasn't any letter from the Ministry informing him of his expulsion, so it must have been so minor that magic sensors wouldn't have picked it up.

It was Aunt Marge's last night, so he could worry about this later. He just had to make it through one more dinner and he could probably feign illness in the morning so he could avoid her at breakfast.

~o0o~

"SHUT UP!" Harry bellowed.

Aunt Marge made direct eye contact with him and froze, her lips caught in a sneer.

"Marge?" Uncle Vernon waved his hand in front of his sister's face. "Marjory, dear, speak to me!"

Going purple in the face, he jumped to his feet and stormed across the room with his fist raised.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

Stars danced across Harry's vision and he realized he was on the ground, his glasses had cracked, and his cheek was swelling. Uncle Vernon was screaming at him to fix Aunt Marge and turn her back, but Harry didn't even know what he did. He was sick of this place. He wanted out.

Curling up on himself, Harry tried to imagine disappearing. He wanted to go somewhere safe. Somewhere welcome.

And then… he was engulfed by flames. A scream ripped from his throat as he somersaulted through the air. He hadn't even realized he was flying until he crash-landed. Sheep bleated in alarm and scattered and a horse shrieked somewhere nearby.

Harry lay against the ground shaking uncontrollably. What was happening to him?

"Bloody hell," a voice said. "Are you okay? What am I saying, of course you aren't. OH! You're still on fire!"

A large, flannel shirt covered him and someone patted out the remaining flames before helping him up. A handsome boy with grey eyes and dark, wavy hair helped him sit up.

"Harry Potter," he said with mild surprise. "Well, if anything odd were to happen it's no surprise it'd be you."

"You're a wizard?" Harry rasped.

"Born and raised," he replied. "Come on, I think I know someone who can help you. Can you stand?"

"I- I don't know," said Harry truthfully.

"That's all right, I've lifted hay bales heavier than you." The boy picked Harry up as if he weighed nothing and brought him over to a massive horse.

The horse tossed her golden mane and stomped her foot but allowed Harry on her back at the older boy's insistence.

"I'm Cedric by the way," said the boy. "Cedric Diggory."

"Where are you taking me?" Harry asked.

"To my Uncle Phil's house. He's not really my uncle, but his wife and my mum were cousins and best friends in school." Cedric prattled on as he led the horse over the grassy fields. "Sorry if I talk too much. I hardly say a word at school but catch me by myself over the summer and I'll talk your ear off. Let me know if you want me to stop because I can stop."

"It's fine," said Harry. He wasn't listening anyway.

They soon approached a house that looked like a large Rook. A young girl with waist-length, blonde hair was holding a basket upside-down and picking fruits off a tree. She would place them under the basket and they floated up and nestled inside. If he were in his right mind, Harry would have been properly fascinated, but he couldn't help but be wrapped up in his own thoughts.

"Hello, Looney Tune," Cedric called.

"Hello, Cedrichard," said the girl lightly.

"Harry here needs help, Luna," he said. "He fell out of the sky in a ball of fire. Hurt real bad, too."

"Oh, dear," said Luna, dropping her basket. "I'll go get Daddy."

She ran inside the house.

"Cedrichard?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Inside joke," he said. "My cat's name is Jimberly and my other horse's name is Craigory."

"Okay…"

Cedric helped Harry off the horse and inside the house. No sooner did he sit down on the squashy couch did Harry feel the pain set in. Luna ran down the stairs and bounded into the kitchen. She brought Harry a glass of water and set a wooden potion kit on the table.

"Daddy will be down in a moment," she said. "For now, I think a salve for those burns will do."

"I'll fix his glasses."

Luna and Cedric fussed over him, cleaning his face and documenting his injuries as if they were professional Healers, all the while muttering to each other jests and musings while also asking him questions. It actually made Harry feel at ease all things considered. A couple of his peers taking care of him rather than treating him like a freak.

Once he was patched up, a tall man who looked almost like Mr. Malfoy came down the stairs. However, instead of a sneer, this man had blue eyes so wide he seemed to be in a constant state of perplexed.

"Harry Potter," he said, "I am Xenophilius Lovegood, Head Editor of the Quibbler. It's an honor to meet you."

"Thank you," said Harry.

"Okay," said Xenophilius. "Lunagard, Cedrichard, thoughts?"

"Well, everyone knows what happened," said Cedric. "The Basilisk and a cursed diary."

"Only we know about the cursed diary," said Luna. "Ginny isn't recovering well, so don't ask her about it."

"Right, and it seems he got hurt by the basilisk," Cedric continued. "But then he says that Dumbledore's phoenix came in and cried on him. I've read all about cursed wounds and they can leave weird effects."

"Basilisks and phoenixes are ancient creatures," said Luna. "Nobody knows what happens when basilisk venom and phoenix tears mix in someone who has been cursed from childhood."

"I think we've discovered what it does," said Cedric, striding over to the bookcase. The books were all arranged by color. A system which would have driven Hermione mad. "What color?"

"Pink," said Xenophilius.

Cedric pulled down a large tome and set it on the coffee table. He flipped through it and tapped on a picture.

"Nana Dione's theory was true," he said. "If the fluids of two ancient creatures mix, it creates a hybrid."

"A hybrid?!" Harry cried in alarm.

"Oh, don't worry," said Luna. "You'll live."

"Is there a cure?" Harry asked. "What's going to happen to me?"

"We don't know for sure," said Xenophilius.

"Nana had theories," said Luna. "But you will gain powers. She theorized that you would gain powers like the ability to petrify and unpetrify things at will, have healing tears, and, as you just proved, the power of fire travel."

"Brilliant," Harry muttered, scratching at the scales on his neck. "Just brilliant. As if I wasn't enough of a freakshow already, let's add super powers!"

"We'll help you, Harry," said Cedric, mending Harry's glasses with the tap of his wand. "You can stay with me. We've got plenty of room at my house and I think Mum and Dad will be okay with it."

"Why are you helping me?"

Cedric smiled. "Because I feel like it."

"Harry," said Xenophilius. "May I document your condition for the Quibbler? With your permission of course."

"Daddy, he might not wish to have this published," said Luna. "However, we should document this and see how far these transformations will go."

If things weren't complicated for Harry before, they definitely were now.