A/N: I've kept you all waiting FAR too long for this chapter (inexcusably, really) so, my proper Author's Note is at the bottom :)

To Keep The Flame Burning Part 5

Hedwig, it transpired, was quite a natural at steering a whirling column of flame through an abyss. Fawkes, of course, was mostly focusing on maintaining their fiery portal, allowing for it to accommodate Hedwig, and allowing for her to steer them towards wherever it is they were heading, so he was quite glad not to also have to think about teaching the owl how to control the flames.

This, Fawkes mused, must be how a broomstick feels when someone is riding it. Not altogether uncomfortable, but rather unusual to give up control.

Fawkes was also focusing on not being distracted by the lovely patterns of dancing light the flames cast on his companion's ivory feathers. Because that wasn't important.

It wasn't long before he noticed the world around them starting to transform. The first change the phoenix noticed was the air outside of their tunnel of flames. A softly glowing golden light was just visible in the distance, and Fawkes surprised himself by how much he missed the colour. Yes, fire was very well, but it was the difference between a blazing bonfire and the flicker of a candle. Fawkes's heart filled with nostalgia at the sight. He could tell that Hedwig could feel it too, she gave a small sigh of longing, and, as though following the two birds' wishes, their column of fire seemed to speed up, towards the light.

The second change was much more subtle than the light, but once it was noticed, Fawkes couldn't believe he hadn't realized it before. It was a taste, a smell, a physical feeling. It was as though he was cold, but hadn't known until he suddenly felt warmer. The air, which had been very crisp and clear and thin, grew richer, fuller, brighter. It was the first thaw after a long winter, a breath of spring air. It-

"It's exquisite," Hedwig breathed, her eyes wide.

Yes. That.

And then, almost as quickly, he saw something that he'd never, not even in his most wildly implausible daydreams, thought would evoke in him the feeling that never in his existence would he feel happier than he did at that very moment. Indeed, Fawkes doubted that to either of the birds did the colour green ever look more beautiful.

"Fawkes, look, it's grass." Hedwig's tone of voice echoed Fawkes' emotions perfectly. He felt an almost childlike wonder and excitement at all the smallest details, such as how the golden glow was revealed to be sunlight above them, and how its light cascaded onto the grass that seemed to grow from nothing before them. The sunlight melded with the air surrounding them, that was becoming more and more blue as it turned to sky.

Distracted by their changing environment, it took almost a full minute for Fawkes to notice that their column of flames had slowed significantly, and that Hedwig was attempting to get his attention. He tore his unwilling eyes away from the outside scene to focus on his companion, giving her an apologetic look.

"D'you think we could… umm, fly for a bit? I mean, without this fire thing? I feel the strangest need to stretch my wings."

"No- I mean yes, of course, definitely. I feel the same way." Fawkes barely cocked his head, and the flames vanished instantly. Without the ever-changing fiery obstruction in the way, they were now able to fully appreciate their surroundings. And in the same moment, they discovered that although there did not appear to be any notable earth beneath the grass, there was, in fact gravity. Apparently, death was a strange business.

Fawkes only had a split second to contemplate this, however, as the next moment he was tumbling to the ground. Their column of flames had been quite tall, so without noticing, they had been travelling about six or seven metres above the 'earth'. Though in the back of his mind Fawkes knew he couldn't actually get hurt, his instincts kicked in and he eventually was able to balance himself out, beating his wings and relishing in the feeling of having proper air beneath them. Beside him, he saw Hedwig do the same. She giggled, and without her having to say a word of explanation, the phoenix was already aboard her train of thought: This is real. This is just like living again.

"Come on, Fawkes, let's just go fly around!" Her mood would have been infectious if Fawkes hadn't already felt exactly the same. With more energy than he'd ever had before, he shot off into the sunlight, finally giving into the temptation to let out a loud, melodious laugh as he did so. He acutely heard the rush of wings behind him as Hedwig followed, or attempted to. He, Fawkes admitted to himself, was maybe teasing her a bit. Normal birds could never catch up to a phoenix with a head start, not even falcons or eagles (not that many tried it). He promised himself that after a few seconds of this glorious speed that he'd slow down to give her a chance at reaching him… a few seconds that were stretching longer and longer at his unwillingness to give up the wonderful feeling of life coursing through him.

So it was a bit of a shock to him when he felt a gust of air and caught a glimpse of a long wing shining silver in the sunlight. The phoenix mentally double-checked his speed; he was still flying lightning-fast but as he watched, astonished, the smaller bird's wings sliced through the air beside him, and then began to overtake him. He could hear her laugh in triumph, the whimsical hooting sound whipping around him before being lost in the wind. He was becoming quite fond of it, Hedwig's laugh.

Sparks were flying off his feathers (the way they sometimes did when he was filled with energy or adrenaline) as he attempted to keep up with the streak of silver-white that was his companion. She was like an unstoppable force, as one first discovering what it felt like just to let everything go and be consumed by the sheer speed and power of limitless soaring.

At some point, however, they both at once decided to slow down to a gentle, floating pace. Fawkes knew that the both of them would have been panting and gasping for air after that race but found to his delight that he was just as energized as he had been before he had started. The reality of the moment hit him- he would never be tired again. Apparently the same thought had occurred to his companion.

"This is insane, Fawkes, truly mental. I've never even imagined flying that fast or far before, and I feel like I could go on forever. I've never felt so alive before, and I'm not even alive! Maybe death was one of the best things that's happened in my life…"

To anyone else who hadn't been through what the two of them had, that would have sounded like a rather morbid thought. Fawkes knew that Hedwig had had a good life, and she had been happy with her lot, but even as one whose own life had been many times longer than a normal bird's, the phoenix could tell that Hedwig's hadn't been the fullest. Not really. Owls are built for flying, but most of the flying she had done was working, delivering mail. And Fawkes knew, just by observing, that Hedwig had loved her job, though a lot of that dedication was due to her love for Harry. But she rarely ever got to experience flying the way it was deeply ingrained into her very soul, the soul of all beings gifted with flight. Flying for joy alone, the way Fawkes believed it ought to be.

"We've been through worlds to get here, Hedwig," Fawkes said quietly. They really had been, the first, the dream-like cloud, in which everything was slowed in a haze of irresistible peace, (no matter how much one wished to resist it) then through the stark, impersonal emptiness that was the world of nothingness, both everywhere and nowhere. A place, Fawkes mused, that would have been nearly inescapable if not for his powers, but more importantly Hedwig's beautiful mind and steadfast determination. Fawkes found himself again, now more than ever, thanking whatever higher power brought him and Hedwig through this together. "Don't you think it's about time something good came of it?"

He inwardly berated himself for that, of course something good -someone good- had already come of it! But it was too late to say anything now. Luckily she seemed to get it, or at least didn't notice.

"I don't know, I've had some fun getting here, I think." Her voice was playful, teasing, but when he looked over, her smile was unexpectedly soft.

"Yes, I suppose I have as well," he replied sincerely. He felt a strong rush of kinship, looking at her. There had probably never been any two creatures who had gone through their small but insane whirlwind of an adventure before. And, paradise though this place might appear to be, Fawkes had a feeling that it wasn't quite over yet. A sharp intake of breath beside him interrupted his thoughts.

"Fawkes! Look over there! Could that possibly be what I think it is?"
The phoenix turned his head to follow her gaze and saw a familiar shape emerging in the distance. Familiar, but not something he had seen or thought about for a long time and which, upon seeing it now, evoked in him a strange feeling of nostalgia. Heart beating nearly audibly in anticipation, he fluttered his wings and sped up, feeling Hedwig do the same beside him. The shape- that became clearer by the second- was, Fawkes felt, one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

"Fawkes?" Hedwig's voice was quiet, filled with awe. "What is becoming of us that I want nothing more at this moment than to sit on a tree branch?"

The arms of the willow stretched out invitingly as the two birds flew, drawn irresistibly towards it. The greyish-green, drooping leaves swayed gently in the slight breeze. As he neared it, Fawkes could see a tiny glittering pond by the tree's roots, surrounded by little multicoloured flowers. His eyes drank in the sight, and the phoenix wondered internally what he could've done in his life to deserve so much beauty all at once.

Hedwig was first to glide through the outer curtain of leaves, with Fawkes close behind. He felt the foliage brush lightly over his wings, then he was in the shade of the huge tree's branches. His eyes adjusted to the strange green-tinged light as he sought out the bright ivory feathers of his companion. He saw her land on a branch not far away, but slightly above him. The moment her feet touched on the bark of the branch, her whole body relaxed and her eyes closed contentedly. Fawkes beat his wings- a strangely eager yet calm sensation overtaking him- and landed beside her, facing the opposite direction.

The feeling of his talons on the rough bark was like coming home. How many times had he done this- grasping a perch with his strong feet, balancing himself with his wings, sitting calm and content? Thousands of memories, moments, focused in an instant. How long had it been? Hours, years, millenia? It didn't matter, not really, not when the perfection of right then, that very moment, eclipsed all else.

After a minute, he turned to face the same direction as Hedwig and as he did so, he glanced over at her face. She was sitting still, eyes gently closed and looking utterly calm, but with a strange, pensive expression. She must have felt him land, felt the branch shudder as he turned, because she spoke in a carefully measured, though curious sounding voice, eyes still shut.

"I feel... hungry. Not as though I need to eat, but, you know, as if I...could?"
The last part sounded like a question. It was a reasonable question, in Fawkes' mind. Why would one need to eat when one was dead? And yet, all this, the nature, the tree, the sitting, it felt so real, so normal. And what was more normal than wanting to eat?
"Do you want to go find some food?" One of her amber eyes opened as he spoke. "I would imagine that if we had the capacity to be hungry, there would be some form of fruit trees or something..."

She gave a little self-conscious chuckle, "I'm not really used to eating fruit, necessarily, but I suppose I could give it a try."

The mantra of 'What could possibly go wrong?' hung unspoken in the air as the two of them alighted (all too soon, part of Fawkes' mind thought). But curiosity overcame him as to the limits of this world- what, if anything, he couldn't do.

After gliding back out from under the tree's shade, Fawkes quickly spotted a small tree beside the pond, one with little objects- light cerise in colour but pear-shaped- growing in bunches along its branches. He crossed over to it quickly to perch on one of the lower branches. He leaned his beak towards one of clumps and inhaled its heady scent. It smelled lovely, like a flower, but it also made his mouth water a bit, like the most delicious fruit he'd ever tasted. He quickly took a small bite. The texture was perfectly smooth and soft but somehow effervescent, as though bursting with life. It tasted unlike anything Fawkes had ever tried, although was reminiscent of something he couldn't quite pinpoint. It had the strangest effect, however, of recalling him to a cheerful time of his past, the specific memory unclear but the happiness nearly palpable. Unable to stop himself from grinning, he took another bite.

Not too far away, he saw Hedwig splashing around near the water. He was confused until he saw her head flash down, then reappear, glinting with water, with a fish in her beak. Evidently, though she'd made to follow him, she'd ultimately chosen to do what was more natural for her, hunt for food. Fawkes had always preferred the pieces of fruit, or sometimes cheese, that the Headmaster brought him, but he knew that the Hogwarts owls would sooner eat rodents or bats (or students' bacon, he recalled fondly). He watched her inattentively for a moment (still nibbling on his fruit) as she started to peel strips off the fish with her beak and claws. Halfway through eating a piece, though, her head shot straight up to look at the phoenix, eyes wide and expression horrified. Startled, Fawkes quickly flew over to her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking around wildly for he wasn't sure what, that could be making the owl appear so panicked. He looked back over to her after a second after he noticed she hadn't said a word.

"This fish," she finally got out.

"Is it...poisoned..?" It felt as though a block of ice was sliding down into his chest.

"No... at least...not for me, but-"

"Hedwig, what is it?

"It seemed so alive, when I was hunting, I didn't think twice. But isn't this the afterlife? Didn't it die in the living world, and then reappear here to live as we did? Did I destroy it, but not kill it? Or if I did kill it, what will happen to it now?"

Fawkes was entirely thrown by the question. He didn't have a single answer, and he even started to feel the way Hedwig looked as the implications hit him. Is that what this place was? Was the price of living in this paradise destroying others' afterlife? He began to panic slightly at this revelation until a small but important part of his brain spoke up. That couldn't possibly be it. Even life wasn't as cruel as that. Maybe this afterlife is just life for other creatures, and that they're bound for another place after their death. Or maybe, if this place was created for them, the fish weren't alive to begin with. Something other than the apparent reality, at least.

Fawkes recounted these suggestions to the owl, keeping his voice as steady as he could, and was relieved to see the terror on her face dissipate.

"Yeah, that must be it..." she muttered, sounding unsure but appearing grateful at Fawkes' suggestion. "But for now, I think I'll just try to... eat some of that fruit..."

The phoenix successfully stopped himself from chuckling at her grimace that accompanied the words, but the smile that came forth was inevitable.

"Trust me, you'll love it, they're amazing."

"The only fruit I've ever tried was Harry's orange juice"

"Well then you're missing out! I promise they're good, and I won't turn my beak up at you if you have to spit it out... which I doubt will happen" he added hastily, noticing her skeptical look.

"Fine," she grumbled half-heartedly, though he noted that she didn't hesitate much before flying off towards Fawkes' fruit-laden tree. He followed her, grinning a bit, and came to rest beside her on a low branch. She was already sniffing interestedly at the bunches, her eyes glazed over a little.

"...Okay..." she ceded. "I will only try some because they smell so very lovely." Her voice was careful, precise, but he could tell she was teasing. He decided to play along.

"Perhaps you oughtn't, a carnivorous bird such as yourself? You wouldn't want to get indigestion... I've changed my mind, you shouldn't try any."

Fawkes learned on that day how very completely a look could say 'screw you'.

She reached out tentatively and plucked a small beak-ful of the strange fruit. Fawkes watched her eyes widen as she tasted it, swallowing quickly and quickly darted back for another bite. Fawkes could barely suppress his triumphant smile.

"See, not so bad, is it?"

Fawkes also learned another look, one that hissed at you to 'shut up, I am enjoying the refreshments'. The phoenix smirked. Then he suddenly stopped, staring fixedly at the horizon. What was that?

It was only a twinkling in the distance that caught his eye, but in the strongest surge of instinct he'd ever experienced, he knew exactly what it meant, what it was. He stood frozen on his perch for a split second before gracefully alighting. In a dreamlike state, he started to fly slowly towards the flash, totally oblivious to Hedwig's existence until he heard her give a startled little squawk at his sudden departure, then the rush of wings behind him as she followed. Part of Fawkes's mind felt guilty for the fact that he was ignoring her (especially when she called out "What's wrong, Fawkes?"), but that feeling was eclipsed by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through it. He had seen him. The one person Fawkes had been dying (no pun intended) to see vibrant and alive and real, since the phoenix had caught a glimpse of his broken form at the base of the tower, since the time he felt the bond between the two of them tear for the first time. Tear, but not break. Because that bond was so strong, Fawkes realized as he flew (now lightning-fast with excitement) towards the ever-clearing image, that even in death the two could always find each other again.

At the last minute, Fawkes came to his senses and slowed, feeling the wind buffet around his feathers. Luckily for him, Hedwig seemed to have the same idea; otherwise Fawkes felt he might have had an owl presently impaled in his back. At least, that's what he would have noticed if he had been paying any attention to her.

"Albus!" Fawkes usually prided himself on his presence of mind and calm demeanour, and a small part of his mind was embarrassed to discover that both qualities had quite abandoned him at this time. The rest of him didn't really care. Seeing Dumbledore again... It was like being healed, like he didn't know he was ill until he was cured.

He didn't look old. That was the first thing Fawkes noticed, as he observed the man standing amidst a circle of trees and pointed rocks. His hair and beard were as white as ever, every line on his face still present. But behind his skin shone through such life and vigour and youth, which Fawkes had only ever seen before in men of much fewer years than his late master. The second thing was his clothing. In his lifetime, Dumbledore usually wore heavy silvery-grey, or white-and-gold brocade robes. Now they appeared to be of a light, flowy material, and were mostly green, with blue, red and gold overlays. They fluttered around him in the slight breeze, giving him an appearance of a woodland deity of some legend. The wizard's smile was blinding. It filled his face, extending, so it seemed, to the fingertips of his hands which were half-raised in welcome. Two perfect, un-blackened hands.

"Fawkes, my dear friend, I was expecting you. And Hedwig, my dear! You are most welcome. But of course, I need not tell you that!" His characteristic, benign attitude was there, but he also appeared to be nearly bursting with joy and excitement. It would've been almost comical if not for the fact that Dumbledore was emulating Fawkes' emotions exactly.

Fawkes was momentarily surprised at hearing human speech again. Not that he hadn't been expecting it, but it had been so long since he'd heard it, it took a few seconds to register its use. Of course, he could always understand human words and languages, but he wasn't sure whether humans could understand his own speech. Hedwig speaks in a different way than I do, he reminded himself, and yet I understand what she says, and she understands me. Those last few words reverberated in his thoughts, but he pushed them out of the way. He had so much to say to Albus, but somehow none of the words would come out.

Thankfully, Hedwig didn't have that problem. She rushed towards him, and perched on a tall rock nearby. Fawkes realized he was still hovering in midair, and flapped his wings lightly to land on a small tree next to the rock.

"Dumbledore! I mean- Albus-sir-"

"Please, my dear, call me whatever you'd like."

"Ok, um, Albus," She looked momentarily shy, but soon it vanished in her earnest. "Do you know what happened to Harry? I mean, I guess you… died- if you don't mind me saying so- at the same time as Fawkes, but… I guess you wouldn't know, but you're Albus Dumbledore so I just thought…"

"It's all right, Hedwig, I understand perfectly. Just like your old master, thinking of others before yourself!" The old headmaster's voice was empathetic, reassuring. "And Harry would be proud, if he knew you now. And I assure you, he's quite okay. He's in danger, and he always will be as long as Voldemort remains. But you know him, Hedwig. He won't come here without a fight, or until he's ready. Which reminds me, I believe I owe you a thank you," he directed the statement to Hedwig, but then smiled over at Fawkes. "I don't believe our phoenix friend would've been able to find me here, nor I he, were it not for your guidance. But, please allow my idle curiosity to surface for a moment, how did you two find each other? And how did you come to be here?"

Hedwig, who seemed immensely cheered by the old Headmaster's praise, gestured slightly to Fawkes, letting the other bird tell the story. Having regained some of his composure, he began to recount their adventure, starting with flying off into the clouds following his Lament. During this part, he noticed Dumbledore's eyes start to shine a little, and felt slightly embarrassed. He didn't really understand why; Fawkes had seen Albus at his strongest, and at his weakest. It must be this place, the newness of everything, that he felt he might need to re-acquaint himself with the headmaster, among everything else. Except Hedwig, he reminded himself provided they were meant to stick together. But at this point, he realized, he would probably fight whatever he needed to in order to ensure that happened.

Dumbledore was an engaged audience; he listened in earnest curiosity when the phoenix told of the place of silver mists and the concept of Sanctuary, and in wide-eyed amazement at Hedwig's bravery when she faced the flames in the world of nothingness. He chuckled conspiratorially with Hedwig at the revelation that Fawkes couldn't track people, and smiled at the phoenix's description of their entrance into this paradise-like place (Fawkes was only partially aware of his tendency to overuse superlatives while describing this last part of their journey). The one thing he omitted from his recounting is his and Hedwig's uncertainty at why fate had thrust them together on this adventure. For some reason, he felt as though these conversations were… almost too personal even to recount to the old headmaster.

Fawkes had finally reached the part where Hedwig was hunting the fish, and as he was explaining their fears at the creature's fate, he turned to the owl. The words died on his beak- the same terrified expression as before haunted her ivory face. Fawkes glanced towards Dumbledore, and saw that the headmaster had also noticed. The old wizard immediately approached her, laid his hand gently on her back and then spoke softly, addressing the two birds;

"My dear, selfless, brave owl, do not lament the past. And understand that the worlds are not cruel to their creatures. When one life ends, another always begins, just as yours, and Fawkes's has. There is a world waiting to bring every creature home."

The owl sniffled, looking a bit embarrassed but nevertheless reassured. Then, looking up into his eyes of clearest blue, she asked the question that Fawkes had often wanted to pose to the late headmaster but had never gotten the chance;

"How is it that you know so much? That you always answer whatever question anyone asks you?"

Okay, so maybe the phoenix wouldn't have phrased it quite as… overtly as that… However, it seemed to have served its purpose; Albus's serious face cracked into an amused smile and, winking towards Fawkes (who gave a bemused, half-shrug, causing the old headmaster to grin even more widely), he said to her;

"Oh, is that what you've heard from Harry? Well, yes, yes I'm quite honoured he thinks so much of me! It's a good job I didn't tell him I make it up as I go along, hmm?" He faux-whispered this last bit, clearly trying to cheer up the smaller bird. At Hedwig's audible giggle, Fawkes smiled. Dumbledore was so genuine, in a way the phoenix had never seen any other human be during his life- a human talking to, and joking with, a bird? Unheard of, and yet so natural in this place.

Fawkes soon realized that his mind was wandering, and remembered that he really did want to hear Albus's answer to the other bird's question. He quickly turned his attention back to the other two, in time to hear the wizard say,

"-that some creatures of the earth- wizards included- are granted the ability to understand the laws that govern the universe. I, being among those blessed few, have always found myself drawn to teaching, so I can share my knowledge. Because there is no purpose to knowledge unless it can be used, or shared. And so I always welcome questions, which are much more potent than most people will ever realize. As for why I know so much," he said, mock-grandly, "It's really only because I'm far older than is good for me."

Fawkes snorted rather inelegantly, causing the other two to look round at him, and then burst into laughter.

They eventually resumed a comfortable silence, which was after a time broken by the old wizard.

"This isn't your final Resting place, you know. I know you've travelled far to get here, and you're always welcome to come back. But this too is like a gateway to your own personal Paradise. I'm sorry to tell you that your journey isn't quite over, but you're very close. The last few steps- so to speak- are before you, but alas I cannot join you in them. I am awaiting another at this Gateway, though I imagine it will appear quite different to him than to the two of you. So it saddens me to say it, but the time has come for us to part."

Fawkes felt a sudden feeling of urgency; there was so much to say to the Headmaster, so much he hadn't asked, that he hadn't said. So much, still, he didn't know, and which he was afraid of discovering too late. So many questions he feared that even Albus wouldn't be able to answer. One stood out in his mind, but he was almost afraid to ask it- afraid that the answer might crush his spirit beyond repair. So instead, he asked,

"Albus, will we- when will we see you again?"

"This is the meeting place of all the souls, a sort of common room if you will. You can find me here whenever you need me. And Hedwig, when , as all souls do, your Master finally arrives, you may come to greet him."

"But where are we to go?"

"You, Fawkes, always woke in the morning far before I did, to watch the sun rise. It, even then, was calling your spirit. Follow the summoning, and you will find your Sanctuary. Hedwig, I would often see you out the window, silhouetted in the moonlight, as I put out the candle in my bedchambers. At night, you feel at peace with the universe, which is a sign. Follow the moon, and you will find what you're looking for. But for now," He pointed into the distance, where a pair of craggy mountains could barely be made out, "Fly towards the mountains until sundown. Then you'll know what to do. But before I go, I have some final wisdom to bestow on you.

"First, there are no evil spirits here, and from any point onwards. No malice, no fear, no anger. Everything is quite benign, so worry not. But you will never lose your capacity to feel. Even in eternity, all things end and begin anew, even happiness, even sadness.

"Second, you will come to know that time and space are both everything, and nothing. You have all the time in the universe, and no time at all. This place is boundless, and concentrated to a tiny pinpoint. It's all perspective. These may seem confusing now but you'll soon grow accustomed to it.

"Third, you can never go back- back to earth, back to the place of silver mists, or the place of emptiness. Even when you return here, it will never be exactly as you remember it. But do not mourn the losses, for all souls may eventually be found, and your Sanctuary will always bring you comfort. Change is not to be feared, for things always have a way of working out. Remember that.

"And last, and most important, the spirits that are intertwined, those who have shared stories in the book of one's life, will always find one another; much in the way that we two did, Fawkes. Love creates an un-severable bond between those whom it touches. The universe is not cruel, and spirits aren't intended to exist alone, anywhere. Know that when you follow the paths to your Sanctuary."

At this point, the headmaster was looking steadily at the two birds, and Fawkes felt rather as though his bright blue eyes were staring through his body to his mind, his heart. He realized it was time to say goodbye, but when he tried to say it, the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he got out, "We'll- we'll see you soon, Albus."

Hedwig's amber eyes were shining slightly, and she said, "Thank you for everything, Albus. I'll- I'll be waiting for Harry when he… when he comes here."

"Farewell, my dear, sweet owl, may you find your sanctuary in peace. Fawkes-" He beckoned the phoenix towards him, and when Fawkes neared, Albus stroked his golden head lightly. The wizard spoke softly to him, saying, "The sun and moon have different orbits, but I think you'll find they end up in the same place, eventually."

Then the old headmaster straightened up, smiled gently at the two of them, and said "Good luck on your journey, I hope to see you both soon!" He then turned away and started walking back towards the towering willow tree and the glittering pond. Fawkes watched Albus Dumbledore's retreating back until it became a speck in the distance, and then, in a glint of gold, disappeared.

A/N: Hi! Do any of you remember me? I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, I think it's been nearly a year since I updated this story...

So... my excuse was going to be school, but Christmas break passed and I wasn't done and then march break passed and I wasn't done, and then school finished and I wasn't done...

Anyways, I hope this extra long chapter (for me anyways- nearly double the length of the last one, it wouldn't let me end it) and the presence of Dumbledore (over whose characteristics I AGONIZED because I love him and wanted him to be as in-character as possible) makes up for it? A little, maybe?

This chapter is dedicated to Amber Icefire who, apart from leaving the loveliest reviews, gave a lot of suggestions for this story, without which this chapter STILL probably wouldn't be done... (Shameless plug- go check out her fic "Emma Crouch", which is brilliant)

Shoutout also to Amber's sister, Crystalfeather12, who is awesome too!

I try to respond to all of my reviews, but thanks again to everyone who's continued to review, follow, and or favourite this story! Seeing any of those notifications in my mailbox absolutely makes my day (and encourages me to write faster!) so THANK YOU for your faithfulness to this story and me! And I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter, so... you know what to do! *hints*

And finally, if anyone's following Star and Moon, I'm going to try to update that soon as well, so... keep a lookout? :D