The Maltese Phoenix

The Maltese Phoenix was never found. He had looked for it all over the world, even offering rewards for information, but they had all led to dead ends. Perhaps victory would’ve come faster had he managed to appropriate the bird’s power, but nonetheless Voldemort had always known victory was forthcoming. His patience had paid off five years ago when the Ministry’s resistance had finally crumbled, and the Wizarding world had come under his rule.

“Melaina, make a move,” Voldemort muttered, leaning back in his chair and looking out over the veranda at the sun-kissed lawn.

“I don’t want to play chess anymore,” the girl said crossing her arms over her chest and reclining back in her chair like her father. “I like checkers.”

“Master chess and then you can play checkers to your heart’s content.”

“Can we take a break?” Melaina whined, fidgeting in her seat and swinging her short legs in the air. He gave a brief nod and sipped his cocktail, Voldemort scrunched up his face in disgust and snapped his fingers. Melaina had gotten up and was now on the floor playing with her plastic dinosaur, dolls lay strewn on the area surrounding her.

“Melaina Regina, you are going to get your dress dirty,” Voldemort snapped as a Death Eater made his way into the room.

“I’ll use scourgify later!” the girl exclaimed, chestnut eyes wide. Voldemort pursed his lips but didn’t reply; instead he turned to his follower, drink in hand.

“Did you make this? There’s no alcohol in this, it’s lemonade.” He turned to his brown-haired daughter. “Melaina, do you want this?”

“What is it?” she asked getting up and running towards him, the blue bow on her head bobbing up and down.

“Lemonade,” he said as she took the glass and sniffed it. Voldemort turned to the Death Eater, “Make me a proper margarita this time, two ounces of tequila.”

“Mmm!” Melaina jumped up and down excitedly, glass in her small hands. “Good!”

Voldemort smiled and brought his thumb to the corners of her mouth and wiped off the residues from her drink. She had her mother’s full lips, but her oval face, high cheekbones and chestnut eyes were all his. She was a beautiful little girl, and Voldemort knew her beauty would be very useful when she grew up.

“My lord, Harry Potter is in the interrogation room.”

“It took you this long to move him from the dungeons to interrogation room?” Voldemort said snidely to Dolohov who turned red.

“He put up a fight, my lord.”

Voldemort smirked before standing up and walking past Dolohov who lowered his head as he stepped aside.

“Daddy, where are you going?”

Melaina jumped up and hurried towards her father before pulling on his hand. “Can I come?”

“No,” he said briefly while pulling out his hand from hers and looking up at Dolohov.

“Summon the governess, and stay with my daughter until she comes.”

“Daddy!” Melaina whined.

Voldemort widened his eyes warningly. “Melaina . . .”

The ten-year old knew this tone of voice all too well, so she hurried back to her toys followed by Dolohov. Voldemort left the warmth of the patio and entered the cool mansion. He walked silently towards the room that held his long-appointed nemesis. He hadn’t seen Potter since the day he acquired the false phoenix. The boy was as slippery as an eel, it had taken him ten years of hit–and-miss, but finally he had him. With a smile, he opened the door and stepped in. Immediately, the smile fell off his face. The two Death Eaters who had been guarding Potter where on the ground motionless, Voldemort didn’t know nor cared if they were dead or alive. With a fast stride and his wand drawn, he went into the middle of the room where a single steel table and an empty chair stood. No, the boy couldn’t be gone, he just couldn’t, Voldemort thought desperately. So long as Potter lived he had to live in fear of being ousted from power, this couldn’t be! It was all supposed to end today. It was then that he noticed a single piece of paper on the seat of the chair. He summoned it and began reading.

Dear Tom,

I am so sorry I couldn’t stay and chat. I am very busy you see. Places to go, people to save, dark lords to kill . . . you know, the usual. No worries though, I am sure we will see each other very soon.

Much love,

Harry

PS. Say ‘hi’ to Melaina for me.

With a scream of rage, Voldemort ripped the letter up in pieces and whirled out of the room like a tornado.

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Shu Jie was the cleaning woman’s name. Harry sat down on a rock next to a river and withdrew a large envelope from his backpack. He pulled out a file he had been working on for the past 10 years on Jie’s whereabouts. He had spoken to her family, gone to her work, and retrieved as many photos as he could. Harry looked up quickly when he heard footsteps on the grass, he looked over his shoulder and relaxed when he saw it was a Chinese woman getting water from the river. Harry had gone back to the cleaning woman’s family after he escaped from Voldemort’s mansion. The Shu family lived in a small village in Northern China, and Harry had decided this was the safest place for him to organize his leads and plan his next move. The Shu family had been more than happy to put him up for a few weeks knowing he was trying to find Jie, and they did everything they could to make him feel welcome. This however, had made Harry feel uncomfortable whenever he thought of them though because they were so nice and friendly that he couldn’t help but be reminded of the Weasleys, and that brought memories of Ron and Ginevra. Harry took umbrage to this last thought, and his nostrils flared angrily before focusing back on the file filled with pictures and interviews. Before, when he had been an unspeakable, he hadn’t had much time to devote to his pet project, but when he was captured by Death Eaters and subsequently escaped from them, the search for the woman and the bird became his priority. Harry knew that the phoenix was the only chance he had at defeating Voldemort, and he hoped to find it soon. Harry smirked, no, he didn’t hope, he knew he would find it soon.

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