Chapter 53. Changes
When we came to, we were no longer in the basement in the middle of the ritual circle, but in the bedroom the Headmaster had set aside for us in his house.
We felt the first changes even before we opened our eyes. The way we had started to perceive the world had changed far too noticeably. It was extremely unfamiliar and at the same time alien. Even with our eyes closed it was as if we could see everything around us. And the biggest differences we noticed were in the colours reflected by these objects. It was somewhat reminiscent of thermal vision. And, more importantly, there was the realization that, if we only wished it, we could draw the warmth out of these objects.
Naturally, this sensation was so captivating that, without even paying attention to our outward changes, we got up from the bed and immediately decided to test it in practice.
The small coffee table which, like most things in our new perception of the world with our eyes closed, was one of the many shades of black, barely perceptibly lighter than the floor. And we reached for its colour through Regulus.
Our body immediately felt a pleasant sense of saturation. And the colour of the furniture began rapidly growing darker and darker until it turned into what felt like a dark point of emptiness, desperately trying to suck the warmth out of the surrounding objects.
"Crack!" a loud sound suddenly rang out.
At that point we decided to inspect what was happening in a more familiar way – visually – from Andromeda's point of view.
The coffee table was now covered in a crust of ice, and cold mist was swirling around it. The surface of the table itself had cracked from such a sudden change in temperature.
Driven by curiosity, we touched the edge of the furniture through Regulus, and it immediately crumbled. What was interesting was that we didn't feel even the slightest bit of cold, although for an ordinary person, touching something this cold would have resulted in a thermal burn far more unpleasant than from touching something hot.
"Looks like we did it," we smiled involuntarily, finally allowing ourselves to admire our physical changes.
If we put aside our new perception through heat, in which our bodies seemed to be at an unnaturally room‑temperature state, then what we saw was definitely to our liking. We hadn't complained about our looks before. But now – this milky skin that seemed perfectly smooth and silky, almost unnaturally flawless. And those blue eyes that seemed to glow from within.
Even though we had already predicted such changes, in real life it looked much better. And to the touch… we had to show truly incredible willpower not to go further than was appropriate, especially in someone else's house. So, to lessen the temptation, we quickly got dressed, left the room, and headed to the sitting room, where Dumbledore was waiting for us by the fireplace.
What was interesting, by the way, was that the old man stood out noticeably in our new sensation. As if he were a more greyish spot, while the flames in the fireplace were almost bright white.
"I see you've woken up," Dumbledore smiled at us, obvious relief on his face.
"Yes, and what's more important, everything went well," we replied, not hiding our satisfaction.
"Yes, it really went quite well," the old man nodded. "But you should return to school today. Your friends were already worried by your absence."
"How long were we asleep?" we asked in surprise. After all, the ritual had taken place at the very beginning of the Easter holidays.
"Two weeks."
"Two weeks?!" we exclaimed before calming down. "Although… considering what kind of ritual it was, that's still fairly reasonable."
"By the way, Professor…"
"What is it?"
"Do you remember you talked about a way to subdue Fiendfyre and make it our own?"
"You want to start on that already?" the old man understood us correctly. It was no accident we had ordered rapiers, after all.
"Yes."
"I'm afraid I can't agree to that," Dumbledore shook his head.
"Why not?"
"During this ritual you have already affected your soul very strongly, and for the next couple of months I insist that you do not act rashly. Even with foresight, you must remain cautious. You do not see all the details," he said seriously.
"So, in the summer then, right?" we estimated the approximate timing.
"Correct. During the summer holidays I will personally make sure everything goes as it should. For now you should think about how you are going to explain the changes in your appearance to your friends and family."
"Hmm… There won't be much need to explain anything to Hermione, she already knows. Harry and Ron… I think if we say it's our secret, they won't press too hard, but Carolina and Sirius… we'll think of something."
"That's for you to decide," Dumbledore nodded before rising from his armchair.
"Let's go, it's just about time for breakfast."
Throwing our school robes over our clothes, we were transported together with the Headmaster by Fawkes. And, unlike our previous experience, it now felt completely different. Like something subtly familiar, yet at the same time wrong. It was as if you had been doing long multiplication on paper your whole life, and then someone showed you how to use the grid method. It's still multiplication, the results are the same, but the methods are different.
Then we caught ourselves staring at the phoenix for almost a minute after arriving in the Headmaster's office, while he watched us with no less curiosity, and Dumbledore busied himself quickly sorting through the mail that had piled up.
"Is something wrong?" the old man pulled us out of our thoughts.
"No," we shook our heads in unison. "It just feels a bit strange. We're still getting used to it."
"That's normal; after all, you have radically changed your very nature. Naturally, some adaptation will be required, as well as time to figure out your new capabilities."
"Yes, you're right, Professor," we agreed.
"Dumbledore. Are those my descendants?" our ancestor's portrait asked uncertainly.
"Yes, Phineas. That's them."
"Barmy old man, what have you done this time?"
"Professor Dumbledore merely made sure we didn't manage to kill ourselves during our experiments, and believe me, the result came out better than anyone could have ever expected," Regulus stepped forward. After all, the idea had indeed been ours, and we had not the slightest desire to let the one who had helped us be blamed for anything unnecessary.
"All right, all right, don't look at me like that. But what exactly did you do?" Phineas Black rolled his eyes.
"We used a ritual from the Restricted Section of the library and grafted the essence of an ice phoenix onto ourselves."
"…Are you serious?" our ancestor asked after a short silence.
"Absolutely," we nodded in sync.
"Dumbledore, how could you!" the other portraits immediately burst into tirades, until our ancestor suddenly broke into delighted laughter.
"Ha‑ha‑ha, those fools wanted so badly to get rid of us, and now the Blacks will be eternal!" Phineas proclaimed triumphantly, while the other portraits made faces as if they had just been fed a lemon.
"Come along, children, we shouldn't miss breakfast," Dumbledore addressed us, only shaking his head helplessly at the behaviour of the portraits, and Phineas Black's behaviour in particular. A phoenix is no simple magical creature, after all. And if we have descendants, it is highly likely they will gain considerable benefit from the ritual we performed.
When we entered the Great Hall together with the Headmaster, we immediately came under the close scrutiny of all the students, who began whispering among themselves and trying to guess who we were. And the whispers grew even more when we sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione.
"And who are you?" Ron couldn't help asking; he hadn't recognized us because of such radical changes.
We responded with a satisfied smirk:
"We're Vega."