What Shakes The Elephant

What Shakes The Elephant

Chapter 40 – The Pupil In Denial

There were certain things that Draco hated. He would never preach to be the kind of man who loves everyone, accepts all and tolerates things he does not agree with, but he was not a hateful man. But, as with everyone, there are some things that he simply cannot stand. For instance, he hated betrayal. He hated being treated as a criminal. He hated cheap wines and inadequate food. He hated people who look down on him and he hated anyone who happened to hate him and expressly show it.

Draco also hated being out of the loop and, while he was hating things, he hated that mysterious smile that Luna had mastered.

When she pulled out the heavy bound book, he expected it to be some kind of encyclopedia on magical beasts. Or perhaps ancient magic of some kind. How was he to know? But when Harry suggested that the book was a printed version of The Tales Of The Beedle Bard, Draco needed to reassess his whole situation.

He had grown up reading The Tales Of The Beedle Bard in his youth. When he was too young to read, his mother had read them to him and The Tale Of The Three Brothers was the first story that Draco had managed to read on his own. He loved that one.

But he could not make the relation to this old book, the children’s fairy-tales and their current situation. He cocked a brow and brought a finger to his temple to massage circular patterns. He needed to reconsider the kind of companionship he was to keep.

“Yes and no,” Luna replied simply, handing the book over to them. Harry took it as Draco was busy trying to stave off a headache. “The stories in this book do originate from the Beedle Bard, but they are not ones you would normally find in print.” She made a sound that might have been a giggle and glanced at her husband. “I don’t think that any parent has ever read these to their child before.”

Draco did not like that comment. He still did not see the relation but something about what she had said perturbed him. He briefly forgot about being naked and standing so close to a naked Harry Potter. He briefly forgot his worries and his feelings in favour of letting the confusion and aggravation take hold of him.

“Why not?” Harry asked before Draco could manage. He decided that, for the moment, it was better he stayed quiet.

“The usual stories you hear as a child,” Luna explained quietly though her voice still maintained that dreamy echo that characterized her. “Are normally legends, stories that have some foundation in truth but have changed over time.” She paused and looked at the book. “But the Beedle Bard did not only retell true stories,” she paused. “You’ll understand eventually. Rolf and I must go. Good luck! May the Toves guide you astray!”

She and Rolf had run off before either of the other men could begin to consider the odd words she left them with. Draco stood, dumbstruck and frustrated by her words. What the hell was that supposed to mean??

“Well,” Harry began awkwardly. “That was useful.”

He turned to look at Draco and, when their eyes met again, Draco became fully aware once more that they were both naked and, now, both completely alone. The Phoenix song had faded and now, instead of resounding throughout the trees, it had begun to play softly enough to mimic a summer breeze.

“How exactly did you know these were from the Beedle Bard?” Draco demanded without hesitating. His eyes were cutting through Harry, trying to push past the careful face he was putting on. Draco was master of facades and could see through others’ more easily than most. Harry was not very good with them.

He was hiding something of his feelings. He was hiding himself from Draco and the blond did not like it. He wanted Harry to feel free with him. But something inside Draco told him that it was better this way.

It was a fool’s endeavour to live with a war waging inside oneself.

“Just had a feeling,” he lied rather poorly. He shifted and walked over to the blanket that Luna had laid out for them and sat himself upon it. “We should read this then, yeah?” Bending his knees to sit more comfortably, he leaned back to crack his back and Draco’s eyes followed the lean line of his chest as it moved. He licked his lips distractedly and went to sit next to Harry.

He purposely sat close enough to the other man that they could smell each other, feel each other’s breath and breathe the same air. Draco shivered involuntarily and leaned over to see the book that Harry propped up on his lap more clearly. Not to mention something else…

“Go on then,” Draco urged Harry. The dark-haired man had tensed and become very still when Draco sat next to him. The blond could feel the heat radiate from him and knew that he was fighting very hard against his own sensations.

Harry nodded unconsciously and opened the book. The pages were thick and of very old parchment. Each of them turned with a crackling nose and let up little puffs of dust every so often. The titles of the stories in the table of contents unnerved Draco. Things like The Manticore’s Red Tooth, The Five Omens of Death, The Horses and Their Plagues and The Cry Of The Twilight Fall.

“I wonder why these stories were never read to kids,” Draco remarked sarcastically, his eyes pausing on the line that read “The Fruit Of The Poison Tree”.

“Yes, well,” Harry chuckled softly. Draco couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “I don’t know any child who wouldn’t love to hear The Tale Of The Monstrous Growth just before bed.”

They both laughed softly. Draco’s mind travelled to Scorpius for a moment and the memories of when he used to read him bedtime stories. It seemed so long ago though it hadn’t really been that long. He supposed it was simply an effect of all that has happened. He wondered if Harry was thinking the same thing as silence descended on them both once again.

Draco felt odd. He felt more comfortable in that moment, sitting there naked with Harry. They weren’t touching, they weren’t even really looking at one another but they were comfortable. Harry let his mask drop for a moment and showed Draco his true laugh once more. It was brief but it was real and Draco found that he needed that.

He needed Harry…

NO.

He pushed the thought aside and frowned slightly. He couldn’t linger here. Something in the air was bringing him back to the insanity that caused him to physically assault Harry at Malfoy Manor. He couldn’t let himself fall into that trap again. He couldn’t be with Harry and if he tried once more, they might not even be able to salvage a friendship.

Always want what I cannot have…

“So which are we to read?” he asked, hurrying the conversation along. Harry turned the page and the first story was revealed to them.

“The Tale Of The Seven Legendary Flames,” Harry read aloud, pausing on the title. He frowned slightly and glanced at Draco. Harry cleared his throat and slowly began to read. “Of all the ancient creatures that roam the earth of our world, the most noble and pure is the Phoenix. The only beast capable of defying death, the Phoenix bursts into flames when it is time for it to die and then are reborn from the ash of their former self. Because of this, they are immortal.

“But immortality comes at a high price. These creatures can never experience the blissful freedom of death. And so they alienate themselves from the rest of the world, preferring solitude and loneliness to the pain of having to watch loved ones die.

“One Phoenix, however, felt the searing pain of loss. There was a great battle fought and many losses to speak of. Amidst the rage of war, terrible things happened and the trauma was too much for the bird to behold.

“It fled from its home and cried a mourning song for all the lands to hear. The earth shook from the pain and the rivers deepened with the sadness that poured from out this beast. None around the world went without hearing the grieving melody.

“The Phoenix wept as it flew to bring the news of the terror that it experienced to all that it could. It wept for loss and wept for death. It wept for all those with broken hearts and wept for those who had never and would never feel love. It wept for the sunrises yet to come and for the sunsets that plagued the day.

“As the mournful beast cried, it began to wither and crackle with embers, threatening to burst into flames while still in the air. It cried out a louder tune and welcomed the death that it might feel, though only for a moment. So, as it wept, the Phoenix died.

“The song that it sang was so full of pain, however, that it raised the Gods of Life and Death from their slumber and they both gathered to the final altar. Together, they considered the meaning of the melody and agreed on what to do. Marked as the only moment that Life and Death agreed, this Phoenix was given a singular chance.

“Instead of turning to ash to be reborn, much as all Phoenixes do, this bird exploded into seven licks of fire. Each of these flames flickered and grew until they formed into Phoenixes. But these birds were not like the others of their kind. Each was a different colour and represented one of the seven founding characteristics of a Phoenix.

“The pink and white bird was bright and pure and represented Love. The red bird burned more powerfully than any other and represented Hope. The orange Phoenix flickered with a steady flame and held its head high, representing Courage. The yellow Phoenix was steadfast and calm and represented Strength. The purple bird was quieter and had a deeper timbre to its call than the others; it represented Wisdom. The blue bird was made of flames that did not look like flames at all but mimicked water. This Phoenix represented Health. Finally, the green bird was good-natured but fickle and so represented Luck.

“And thus the Seven Legends were born.

“Life and Death left them with a shared burden that was both blessing and curse. They were, unlike normal Phoenixes, to sustain together as a group. They were meant to guide those that sought them out to their true path. They were to bring enlightenment to those who had gone astray and heal the wounded hearts of those that could not understand their own pain. Only once they had proven themselves to show the love of which the Mourning Phoenix’s song told, they would be rewarded with their deepest desire.

“So the birds accepted their duty and fulfilled it with determination. Long years passed as travellers lost along their road came upon their nest and sought out help. They did as they could and offered truths that wizards rarely wish to see. They brought light to dark places and saved noble hearts from death and agony. But still, no matter how many lost souls stumbled upon them and received salvation, the Gods of Life and Death were not satisfied.

“The Phoenixes began to become fickle and impatient. They chased away unworthy causes and retreated into solitude together. They believed that only putting end to a war might help them achieve their goal and refused to see any other causes. They saw each wizard that came across their path as the terrible creatures that had waged the war that broke them apart.

“But one day, two weary travellers happened upon their grove and stopped to rest. These travellers knew one another but were not friends. Trouble waters churned between them and so many miles set them apart though they sat together by the water. The Phoenixes saw that they were worn and so let them be.

“The travellers spoke shortly to one another and argued as they looked over a map. They were both in search of the same solution though they had different problems. One traveller sought to find a trustworthy man who could take care of his shop so that he might tend to his sick children. The other sought a job so that he might support his family.

“But the two men were stubborn and proud. They could not see that the solution to their problems were staring them in the face and so they continued to argue and asked the Phoenixes for help. The birds refused to give them the answer but demanded that they explain their situations.

“As they explained the causes of their predicaments, the Phoenixes began to sing, softly at first and then growing louder. The song spoke of a knowledge and a truth that neither man had seen before. They realized that they were each, in turn, responsible for the problems that the other had faced. The knowledge of this angered them both and they blamed each other for their problems.

“Through their angry remarks it was revealed that they had once been close friends, but after a disagreement they had over something neither could identify, they had fallen out. After their falling out, each man’s life went down a bad road filled with troubles. The angry voices grew louder but as they did, so did the Phoenix song. It was a testament to the sorrow each bird felt for the men’s loss of friendship. The argument soon came to blows and one man fell back and was cut badly on a jagged rock.

“The other man rushed to his side, forgetting the fight and feeling a rush of guilt. He pleaded with the Phoenixes to help the man but they did not budge. He began to fear for the man’s life and sought to stem the bleeding with a piece of his shirt. He begged the man for forgiveness and the other offered up his final apologies for all the bad blood between them.

“The Phoenix song stopped and the man’s wounds disappeared as they came to realize exactly what it was they needed. They reconciled and thanked the birds for their help before returning home.

“Then, in a flash of blinding light, the seven birds flew together and burst into one single flash of fire. From this explosion one golden Phoenix was born and was greeted by the Gods of Life and Death. Life and Death congratulated the bird. They explained that, just as the men needed to reconcile their differences before their lives could improve, the birds had to forgive those that had caused them pain in order to heal.

“The Golden Phoenix was then granted the one wish it had always wanted. It flew up into the sky and caught fire as though it had flown straight into the sun. This time, however, it was not reborn at all. The Phoenix was finally granted the final peace of Death.”

Harry and Draco both sat in quiet thought as the story ended. They did not notice the soft humming of the birds that perches atop the trees that grew around them. They did not notice their own nakedness for that moment and hardly noticed each other’s presence as they considered.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Draco snapped suddenly, glaring at the book. Sure, he could see the underlying themes of reconciliation and friendship. He could understand the need for forgiveness and acceptance, but how the hell did that apply to his situation??

Harry sat silently for a few moments, his jaw clenched briefly as he glared at the page as well. Draco wondered if Harry understood the meaning and was displeased with it, or if he was simply thinking hard and it showed this much on his face.

“I think,” Harry began, his teeth still firmly gritting together. “That this is about us.”

Draco stared, dumbstruck. He blinked several times and tried not to laugh at the absurdity of the comment. This story had been written ages ago and was as cryptic as one of Luna’s letters. In fact, he might not have been surprised if she came out and claimed to have written the damn tale herself.

“What are you on, Potter?” Draco sneered, pulling away from him to lean back against the ground. Harry shook his head and flipped back through the pages.

“This story,” he said again, this time with more urgency. “It’s a parallel of us and what we are here for.” Draco snorted and looked aside. He was tempted to feel at Harry’s forehead.

“Are you feeling alright, Potter?” he asked with a further sneer. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you see it?” he said as though it was obvious. Draco grimaced. He hated being treated like an idiot. “The Phoenix that cried as it died. It experienced a terrible loss. Fawkes was Dumbledore’s Phoenix and he cried as he flew around singing for Dumbledore’s death. No one knows what happened to Fawkes but suddenly these seven oddly coloured Phoenixes show up?” Harry began making odd connections that Draco was loathe to admit to understanding. “Two travellers who have bad blood between them. Both looking for the same thing for different reasons. Draco, this is about us.” He shook his head. “I didn’t think something like this would ever happen again. Frankly, I hoped it wouldn’t. I’ve had enough of being linked to these damn fairy tales.”

Draco nearly laughed. At least, he would have if the situation hadn’t been so frustratingly absurd. He sat up and turned to Harry, his eyes hard and his body reacting strangely to the soft music that he couldn’t notice.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he began roughly. “That you and I are featured in a fucking children’s story??”

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A/N: Baha, that last bit was a stab at those who think that Harry Potter is just a kid’s story. Obviously no one on this site, but it was fun to write.

OK so now you probably ALL think I’m completely insane. That’s alright. I still haven’t explained what makes Phoenixes cry and how they are going to get that, but this story was interesting to write. It’s abstract and rather complex, yes. This is why it was never one of the well-known Tales of the Beedle Bard. Baha. Luna would know about it though. She knows all.

Yes, I hope you enjoyed that! I love Phoenixes. And I love Fawkes. Thanks JKR for deciding that Fawkes needed to not have a part in Deathly Hallows. Serves me fine! Bahahaha. I hope I didn’t mess anything up here T_T Hard day.

Anywho, enjoy!

Love to you all!