A golden light flashed, and Jon Hart opened his eyes once more.
Through the morning sunlight, he gazed dazedly at the narrow road before him—Eastley Road, the place he had called home since childhood.
It was the morning of June 25th, the day after the Triwizard Tournament had ended.
He had spent the previous night in Dumbledore's office... beneath the wall covered in portraits of past headmasters, where Dumbledore had conjured a sleeping bag for him.
The portraits had chattered endlessly all night, leaving Jon little rest—though his own heavy thoughts played no small part.
Early this morning, just minutes ago, Fawkes had carried him out of the Headmaster's Office and brought him here.
The scruffy black-and-gray bird already looked larger than it had the day before... yesterday it had been no bigger than a fist, now it was at least the size of a teapot. Its feathers, too, had taken on a deeper red hue.
Still, crossing space was clearly difficult for it, draining much of its energy... Now it lay sprawled lazily on the lawn, soaking up the sun.
Jon suspected that if the other phoenixes saw Fawkes like this, they might feel compelled to cast her out.
...
He opened the backpack on his shoulders. The most important things, he had already packed away before the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament.
Jon picked up the exhausted Phoenix lying on the ground and set it inside the bag, leaving the flap open so the bird could still bask in the sunlight.
As he walked toward No. 86, his thoughts drifted back to yesterday's events.
His plan to escape Hogwarts had been in motion since the very day he learned he was a wizard. By yesterday... it was essentially complete.
Voldemort was, after all, the most powerful Dark Wizard of the late 20th century, backed by the majority of pure-blood families.
Though Jon believed Dumbledore would ultimately outwit Voldemort and prevail, the old wizard's strength and energy were fading. The Order of the Phoenix under his command was far too small compared to the Death Eaters.
Thus, no matter what means Dumbledore used to secure victory, the final outcome would inevitably be tragic.
As a somewhat well-known wizard born to non-magical parents, Jon Hart was naturally on the opposite side of Voldemort. This left him with only two choices: join the Order of the Phoenix and fight the Death Eaters head-on, or find a way to avoid the storm altogether.
Jon had chosen the latter.
Everything had gone smoothly... until Jon's staged death caught Dumbledore completely off guard. If Dumbledore didn't acknowledge Jon Hart's death, he couldn't prove Voldemort's return, nor could he send Mad-Eye Moody—disguised as Barty Crouch Jr.—to infiltrate the Death Eaters.
But...
...
"Experience really does count!" Jon sighed.
After all, he had spent three years at Hogwarts and could not help but feel attached to the place... Faced with Dumbledore's sudden temptation...
This one-year exchange program had caught him completely off guard.
Dumbledore hadn't forced him to make a choice. To be fair, he had been rather considerate, arranging an identity for Jon as a Beauxbatons student...
Jon could very well have gone directly to Beauxbatons and ignored the transfer paperwork entirely.
The 1995–1996 school year—Harry Potter's fifth year—was far less perilous than the two years that followed. At least there were no large-scale Muggle massacres, nor had Muggle-born wizards yet been stripped of their right to use wands.
After all, Voldemort had only just returned, and faced with a pigheaded opponent like Cornelius Fudge, who buried his head in the sand, he had chosen to lie low and rebuild his strength.
Taking on a non–Muggle-born cover identity might not have been especially dangerous.
Still, Jon could not suppress his curiosity about the "secret" Dumbledore had mentioned.
Dumbledore was not one to exaggerate. If he said it was important, then it surely was... and likely tied to Jon himself.
He also suspected it was connected to the unusual attention Dumbledore had shown him in recent years.
Lost in thought, Jon halted his steps.
He had arrived at 86 Eastley Road—his home.
...
A car was parked outside the house.
In the yard stood an elderly man, panting for breath, and a woman with rosy cheeks and black hair.
Judging from their appearance, they were both wizards.
They were speaking with Eric.
"I am Elphias Doge!" announced the old man, whose head bore only a few remaining strands of white hair. "I am a friend of Albus Dumbledore. This is Hestia Jones."
There was no doubt that Mr. Eric Hart recognized the name.
"A friend of Headmaster Dumbledore!" he said with excitement. "Welcome, welcome!"
"The situation is this..." Doge explained, still catching his breath. "A very evil Dark Wizard has returned. He takes pleasure in slaughtering Muggles like yourselves... Albus, concerned for your safety, has sent us to arrange for you to go to France..."
As he spoke, he handed over a letter.
"To France?" Eric asked in surprise.
"Yes... it's rather urgent," Doge continued. "Please read the letter Albus has given you. If everything is in order, make your arrangements. Hestia and I will return in three days to collect you."
"How is Jon?" Mrs. Judy Hart asked anxiously.
"He..." Elphias Doge and Hestia Jones exchanged a glance.
"Don't worry about him..." the dark-haired witch said hesitantly.
Neither Eric nor Judy pressed further. After the two wizards departed, they began discussing what to do.
Jon, of course, had not shown himself.
Clearly, Elphias Doge and Hestia Jones had no idea he was still alive. If he appeared, it would only create trouble.
Dumbledore had promised yesterday to help relocate his parents to France; Jon hadn't expected him to fulfill that promise so quickly.
...
Jon pulled the ugly Phoenix from his backpack.
"Help me deliver a letter, Fawkes?" Jon asked softly.
The Phoenix puffed herself up proudly in refusal. How could she ever lower herself to be compared with mere owls?
Jon pulled a small pouch of herbs from his pocket.
Fawkes' eyes lit up immediately, and she nodded eagerly.
Jon thought for a long while. Only when Fawkes grew impatient did he finally speak slowly.
"I have a letter I need you to deliver to Miss Astoria Greengrass."