Harry looked reluctantly at the fire in the Hufflepuff common room. The first term of the academic year had flown by so swiftly that he had barely been aware of its passing, and best of all, for the first time, he had found ample time for everything he had wished to do. The only downside was that Christmas had arrived, and for the first time since he had started at Hogwarts, his friends had gone home, leaving him utterly alone. Not that he cared much, no; it was just that he felt a touch lonely and somewhat bored.
His days were spent diligently completing his homework and searching for ways to amuse himself. The unfortunate truth was that before his friends left, he had made a promise not to undertake any more independent research, and he couldn't fly as a phoenix because, lately, the Headmaster was keeping a very close eye on the White Phoenix. After all, Dumbledore had told Harry's parents that he was going to become Brian's relative and should have already taken the first steps, such as allowing himself to be seen by the boy. So, what Harry primarily did was spend his days in his personal library or the school library.
Mysteriously, and much to Harry's annoyance, Brian had decided he was also going to remain at school that Christmas. The reason hadn't been explicitly told to Harry, but it wasn't necessary; what his parents hadn't wanted to explain, Remus had. There was an important Order mission, and they didn't want Brian to be present, lest something untoward happen to him. For now, nothing bad had transpired; Brian remained in Gryffindor, and Harry in Hufflepuff, so friction between them was minimal.
During the entire holiday period, or rather, for several months, Harry had not received a single letter from his parents. In fact, he had received nothing from them since they learned of his future apprenticeship with Professor Snape and his father had demanded that he revoke it. That had not been a pleasant conversation, and in fact, they had even said things to him that hurt a great deal. After that, he hadn't heard from them again.
That made him ponder many things, or rather, reflect on what the relationship with his parents had become, and what he saw, he did not like. Over time, his parents had shown a clear preference between the two brothers, Brian being their favourite. Why? Because someone had told them that a prophecy had been made about the Dark Lord's defeat, and that it would be Brian who would accomplish it.
The only memory he truly held was of his parents doing everything for Brian and leaving him alone, paying him no attention. Or even worse, when they only acknowledged him to highlight what a disgrace of a son he was. He'd been called everything from useless to a Squib, blamed for any of Brian's mischief. They had never supported him in anything, and the only time they had behaved like parents had been when his friends remembered something they hadn't been able to…
And now, this. The normal reaction would have been for them to support him, to encourage him, and instead, they did the opposite. Could they truly be called his parents? They had given him life, yes, but little else. Remus had been his only father figure, and lately, Ginna had become his mother figure. They deserved to be called Mum and Dad far more than James and Lily.
It was strange, but after reaching that conclusion, he felt freer and more relaxed than he had ever been. He was happy, and after that, he didn't care if Brian was there or not; he didn't care if Brian reproached him that their parents loved him more. He was free! Even so, he still felt somewhat inferior to his brother, but he guessed that with time, that feeling of inferiority would disappear.
To his surprise, that happened faster than he thought. It was only a couple of days after Christmas. He had gone to the library to research human Transfiguration when he heard angry grumbling in a nearby room. Curious, he went over to see what was happening and was surprised to see Brian angrily staring at what appeared to be a piece of cloth, while exclaiming the spell Diffindo. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it to work, and after a few minutes of observation, Harry knew why. He was missing a very slight turn of the wrist at the beginning of the spell.
"You're doing it wrong," he said before he could stop himself, causing Brian to jump slightly and turn quickly.
"And what do you know?" Brian asked angrily. "What are you doing here? Spying on me?"
"I was passing by and I heard you," Harry explained simply. "Do you want me to help you, yes or no? You can keep practising as much as you want, but if you don't correct the mistake, you will never succeed."
Harry could see that Brian was in a bit of a conflict of interest. On one hand, he didn't want help from Harry, and on the other, his desire to improve was strong. In the end, he accepted. During the next few minutes, the elder of the Potters showed what the other was doing wrong, and after a little practice, Brian succeeded. That's when Harry noticed something. Brian hadn't done it wrong, exactly; he had cut the fabric and a couple of cushions, but Harry himself had exploded them when he first learned that spell and hadn't known how to control it. It was then that he realised something important: he was much stronger than Brian, not the other way around.
That managed to give him something he had not possessed until then: it gave him confidence in himself and in his abilities. It made him realise that everything his parents had told him since he was very young was a lie, and if he still had any reluctance to deny his parents, it vanished completely.
The rest of his holiday felt the same as before, that is, boring. And although the new knowledge and his newfound confidence made things somewhat different, it was still boring. He reached the point where he chose to practise the different methods of Divination that Ginna had taught him.
His mentor had taught him many different methods to be able to see the future at will, but while she favoured the crystal ball or the mirror, he favoured water. She had always told him that each Seer had a method that favoured or best suited them, but that meant he had to practise the others more, and his favoured one was almost untouched. That's why when he could practise alone, he used water.
So he was in his special room, gazing into his water bowl, contemplating what fate expected to deliver shortly, when he saw a small ripple form in the water that indicated the beginning of a vision. So he looked closely.
The bowl showed him Diagon Alley full of people shopping, people who seemed completely unaware of the war that was raging around them. Everything seemed calm, but it was abruptly cut short when a group of Death Eaters appeared in the Alley, attacking everyone regardless of whether they were innocent civilians.
The boy saw how shortly after, the Order of the Phoenix arrived and began to fight against the Death Eaters. They were evenly matched, and it didn't seem that either side was going to win; that fight could last hours, and there would be no definite victor. It was then that he saw in a half-hidden corner a frightened girl, a frightened girl who was hugging a little girl he knew: Athenea.
Frightened because no one seemed to notice they were there, and a fight was going on far too close for his liking, he looked around, searching for a temporal anchor, a way to pinpoint when such a thing was going to happen. Finally, he found it in a small calendar right in front of the Apothecary and what he saw, he did not like: it was happening at that very moment.
Putting aside the bowl, he debated for a few moments what he should do, and finally, almost without realising it, he transformed into a phoenix and, in a burst of flames, he was transported to the Alley, right in the middle of the battle and very close to his friend.
Everything happened extraordinarily quickly. He transformed into a human again and began to fight against the Death Eaters almost in the same movement. If someone asked him later what he did, he wouldn't know very well what it was. Spells, Transfigurations, curses—everything was valid to protect all those innocent people whose only crime was to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. The fight lasted only a few moments, but for him, it felt almost like hours. Then, after making sure that all the Death Eaters were incapacitated, he left before the Order could apprehend him.
The people in the Alley looked at where, a few moments ago, the one who had saved the magical shopping street had been. The Aurors looked at the spot in disbelief, the members of the Order much the same, and the civilians looked at each other with a mixture of disbelief and joy. Of all those present, only one wise teenager had rescued them: her own friend, Harry.
That night, an urgent meeting of the Order was held to discuss what had happened that afternoon in Diagon Alley, and all members had to be present.
"Begin," Dumbledore said, looking at everyone present. "We all knew that an attack was going to take place during this holiday. Severus warned us, although he did not know the details of the attack. Today, Diagon Alley has been attacked by a contingent of approximately twenty Death Eaters."
Loud murmurs arose that made the old Headmaster have to pause for a long time in order to regain some attention. When at last the murmurs died away, Dumbledore spoke again.
"I have the pleasure of informing you that there were no fatalities and only a few minor injuries, nothing to worry about."
"How is that possible?" Alice Longbottom asked. "There is never an attack in which there are no victims… Neither the Ministry nor the Order usually react quickly enough to avoid them. What has changed?"
"Well…" began the old man, and the woman noticed that there were several faces of discontent. "I would like to be able to say that it is thanks to us, but it is not the case, nor was it thanks to the Ministry."
"Then?" a witch asked from the end of the table.
"The truth is that we don't know. We do not know any details about the person who saved the Alley, since at all times, a bright white light surrounded him that prevented us from knowing any details about his identity."
"That is not entirely true," said a red-haired man.
"What do you mean, Fabian?" asked the old Headmaster.
"That if we know anything, the person who saved the Alley is an Animagus, and a unique one indeed," Fabian Prewett said, ignoring the Headmaster's disgusted look. "His form was that of a phoenix, a white phoenix."
That statement caused not only murmurs to rise, but also shouts and startled exclamations, as well as the obvious disgust of the Potters. After all, the prophecy of the White Phoenix was already well known in the Order, as well as the possible child of the prophecy. That someone who could transform into a white phoenix with extraordinary powers would now appear was quite suspicious.
"That doesn't mean anything," the old man began.
"Of course, it means something!" exclaimed a witch from the table. "It could mean that we were wrong to point to Brian Potter as the prophesied child."
"Brian was the only one who met the conditions specified by the prophecy, and you know it!" Sirius Black exclaimed.
"Newborn children, yes," the same witch answered. "But who says he was just born? A child or even an adult?"
"You know as well as I do that a prophecy is usually about a future event," Dumbledore explained.
"But the opposite also usually happens, that it talks about a past event," replied another wizard. "It's strange, but it also happens."
After that, the Headmaster had a hard time refocusing the conversation where he wanted, but the damage was already done. Doubt had been sown within the Order, and now it would be very difficult to eradicate it.
In fact, even Dumbledore himself was slightly tinged with doubt. After all, Brian hadn't yet shown any kind of ability… Could he have been wrong twelve years ago?