A/N: This is my first ever fanfic! Please, please review, any feedback would be amazing, and well appreciated.

I hope you enjoy!

To Keep the Flame Burning

In the silence of the silvery emptiness, the soft rustle of feathers was as loud as an angry crackle of thunder.

Fawkes turned his great golden head and noticed, in the corner of this vision, a small, white creature with its head under its wing. Well, small compared to a phoenix. Fawkes knew that snowy owls were quite large among others of their kind. This realization brought to mind the image of a tiny pygmy owl, Pigwidgeon, as he believed it was named, flying in dizzying circles around a boy with ginger hair who was madly trying to catch the tiny bird. And all the while being watched amusedly by the fiery-haired one's friend: a boy with messy black hair, piercing green eyes, and a lightning scar.

The phoenix, after this thought, was brought sharply back to reality. He had come to understand, during his time in the calm silvery abyss, that the place made even your thoughts slow. In this… world, as he came to think of it as, he never hungered, thirsted or grew tired. And he had no concept of time, so that it could have been a second, or an eternity from the time he arrived here to the time that this snowy owl, Hedwig, as was his sudden realization was her name, spontaneously appeared.

Fawkes sang out a greeting to the sleeping creature. He knew that his voice was lost to those on earth, but felt quite sure that Hedwig would be able to hear. And sure enough, no sooner had he called out when a beak, followed by a fluffy round head, appeared. Hedwig shook out her feathers reflexively and blearily blinked her amber eyes at the gold and red bird that had interrupted her sleep.

"Fawkes, where are we?" Hedwig's soft hoot betrayed no surprise at the phoenix's presence in the unknown place. The golden bird paused for a moment before replying, choosing his words carefully.

"I'm not sure. I thought before that this must be my… Sanctuary. Until now…" Fawkes' eyes leveled with Hedwig's. "When you came here, I wasn't sure."

Fawkes knew that in this silvery world, strong emotions did not exist; that something about the place blanketed you in serenity, and blocked out many other emotions. Hedwig, however, managed to look a little offended at the phoenix's observation.

"Well, I'm sorry I interrupted your peace," the owl ruffled her ivory-white feathers, annoyed. "I didn't ask to come here, you know."

"You misunderstand me," Fawkes replied, in a tone reminiscent of his late master. "Phoenixes… have a complicated life cycle. Most humans and creatures know that when we die, we are reborn from the ashes of our last flame. But nothing- no creature or wizard or plant or monument or nation- exists forever. We, like every other creature, do not know when our death will be; it could be a matter of months after our birth, or of centuries, but it will come."

During this, Hedwig's expression had softened, though she still appeared confused. "But-" she cocked her head slightly, "You've died- or whatever it is that you do before you're reborn- several times. How do you know when you're actually… you know. And why would you actually die… permanently? What makes that time different from all of the others?"

"Your first question is most widely understood between phoenixes, and will be answered in due course. However, I shall attempt to answer your second question first, as it is important that you understand."

As he was saying this, Fawkes realized how much his old master's wise, yet convoluted ways had influenced him. Even while speaking, his memory brought him back to a little over four years previously, when Dumbledore was having a similar conversation with a disheveled boy carrying a ruby-encrusted sword, Hedwig's master, and one of the two boys whose wand contained a feather from Fawkes' own tail.

"It is my belief," the phoenix continued, "That a phoenix's final death- one from which there is no return- occurs when the phoenix has outlived its earthly purpose. My case was a rather unusual one, though not unheard of. I formed a bond with my late master: a bond not unlike one between a wizard and his wand. And I knew that the hour that Albus Dumbledore died would be my last also…"

Fawkes sat musingly in the silence for a few moments; he was almost sure that were he a human, he would be pacing the insubstantial floor of the silvery place. This continued until Hedwig cleared her throat hesitantly, apparently sensing that the larger bird would possibly stay in this meditative state for all eternity unless it was interrupted.

"So how do you…"

"How do I know when my death is my last?" Fawkes gradually came out of his reverie. "When we die, 'permanently' as you said, we do not burst into flames. Instead, we simply fly away. We sing a final song of passing, a 'Swan song' as it were. I sang my song to aid in passing both myself and my master from this life to the next. Well, I say this life. I believe I may already be in the next. For us phoenixes- though it may be for other creatures as well, I do not know- we continue flying until we reach our Sanctuary."

"Is this your Sanctuary then?"

"I'd thought it was. I'd been flying for what felt like an eternity. My wings never tired, for in death, earthly weakness is taken from you as well. And then all of the sudden, everything slowed, became dream-like, and the cloud of silvery mist engulfed me, just as we are engulfed in it now. And there- here I suppose- I rested, rested in such stillness and silence and perpetual peace that were I living, my body would decay as I sat" He shifted his ever-magnificent wings subconsciously. "And then you came, and my understanding of where I was- am- was … buffeted aside." Fawkes' voice betrayed a hint of humour, though his face remained fairly impassive. He blinked benignly, gold eyes again meeting amber, and he said quite gently, "Am I right in thinking that you, too, have left the world of the living?

Until now, Hedwig had been listening intently and watching the larger bird with wide eyes. But then the phoenix watched as she held back a snort with difficulty. "When you say it like that, it sounds like a big adventure!"

At this, Fawkes had a sudden memory of golden glasses and a silver beard, and the words "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure". That particular memory, Fawkes had seen recounted in the pensieve, watched by a fondly chuckling Dumbledore. He chose to say nothing, however, as Hedwig continued,

"But yes, I do believe I am dead. I didn't see it coming, though. I knew we were all in danger, because we were flying from those cloaked wizards. We were in the air, flying, but I was in my cage. Then this bright green flash lit up the silver bars- of my cage, I mean- and then I was floating away. I remember my body was destroyed…" The owl lifted her wing to her face experimentally, as though making sure it was really there. "And the last thing I heard was- was my master… screaming my name…"

At this, Hedwig's face broke into desolation. She began to shudder, and cry out in mournful hoots full of pain and despair. Fawkes knew that she was mourning, not for herself, but for the one she had left behind, whose path was to be one of the most difficult endured by any creature. It was clear that Harry Potter had loved the owl very much; Fawkes knew that Hedwig knew this, and that her sorrow was for the boy's loss. The phoenix was amazed and touched by the selflessness of the smaller bird, and the love she showed by her mourning. This mutual bond of love was quite unlike Fawkes' and Dumbledore's relationship, the phoenix reflected. The two of them were more 'comrades-in-arms, fight-t0-the-death-together' lifelong friends. But Hedwig and Harry were family, and sometimes the only family the other had.

Two great teardrops rolled from the owl's eyes, fell, and were lost in the cloudy abyss where they were standing. At this, Fawkes' instincts took over. He fluttered (or hopped, more accurately) to where Hedwig sat a few feet away, and wrapped one of his great red-gold wings around the other bird. He wished his magical tears could heal the great wounds in her mind and heart. Instead, he began singing softly. The music emanated hope and courage. It acknowledged Hedwig's pain, but told her to let it go. He wove harmonies into his own voice, as only a phoenix can, and the song was filled with strength, strength that, Fawkes knew, was passed onto whoever heard it. He felt the bird beside him breathe easier as his song ended, and when it did, he spoke softly,

"We phoenixes have a small gift of prophecy. I can't say specifically, but I know Harry Potter will be ok" The smallest of pauses, then "And I know that we will be too."

Fawkes felt, rather than saw, the owl's eyes looking straight into his as he gazed out at the silvery mist, and continued, "I understand now. This was never my Sanctuary, but a kind of in-between place. No creature is meant to be alone for eternity. I was simply waiting here for something, and now it has come, so I-we- can now move on to our final place of rest."

"We will be ok… Is that a prophecy as well?"

"No, but we will be. It is natural to be scared of the unknown, and I was. But now, I am not worried"

"Why?"

"Because I am with you"

A/N: So ya, I tried to add in a lot of Harry/Dumbledore parallels (in their respective pets, I mean) as a basis for their personalities. Please let me know what you thought!