Chapter 35: Homecoming
“Uh, hey Mom?”
Narcissa Malfoy looked up at the strange voice, to see the speaker. The girl sticking her head into the study was most definitely not familiar, what with her gleaming silver hair and whatnot, but she had a sneaking suspicion of who it was. It rather helped that she recognized the robes. “Yes, Sorelia?”
“Uh- it’s Silversong, like this,” she muttered. “Um, I just realized I don’t know how to wash my hair.”
“Silversong?” she asked, abandoning the boringness she was occupying herself with. Dobby did so good of a job she rarely had anything to do. “Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.”
Silversong blushed gently, smiling softly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I can become Sorelia- I saved her- but Silver is my female base, you know?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Your female-? You have two bases?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I think they’re connected via something like Animagus magic, but I’m not certain."
She tilted her head, noticing one of the girl’s telltales- most likely because she knew Draco’s telltales like the back of her hand. “You seem nervous,” she commented.
She shrugged, and half-shivered. “Well yeah,” she answered. “And also no. Thing is, I haven’t gotten to be Silver- or Sorelia- at Hogwarts much at all, so…” Her hand hovered near her chest, but didn’t touch it. “It’s still all so unfamiliar- but as Hailey put it, it also feels so right at the same time.”
Ginny was still tired and bleary-eyed when she went down to breakfast with a much more awake Ariel the day after getting back home. Ariel was still a ghost- and the night before, when she met her parents on the platform, they’d been surprised to find out that Ariel was tethered to her. She was; Ariel couldn’t go more than a couple hundred feet away from her without dissolving into arcane mist and reforming back from her again. Fortunately, things like walls didn’t seem to affect it, so she didn’t have to be in the same room.
Her mother looked at her, sighed, and served her breakfast. “Good morning, Ginny,” she said.
“Mornin’,” Ginny muttered, picking up her spoon. She hadn’t slept too well, so part of her mind- the part that was most awake- was wondering if she’d be able to sneak off for a nap at some point.
“When are you planning on taking care of your wings?” her mother asked.
“After breakfast,” she muttered without really thinking about it, and stuffed the spoon into her mouth.
It was when she was just about ready to gather up her next mouthful when her sleepy brain finished processing what she’d heard.
She swallowed her food. “Wait, what did you say?” she asked.
Her mother, who was still standing, watching her, smiled. “When are you planning on taking care of your wings?” she repeated.
She looked down at her bowl of cereal, then at her spoon, held deftly between a few primary feathers, and back up at her mother. “My… wings?” she asked. “What wings?”
Her mother didn’t answer, just watching her calmly.
She took her next bite of cereal, still wondering what her mother was talking about, while her hands combed her secondaries into alignment.
Finally, she froze, eyes wide, and suddenly wide awake. She lifted her hands in front of her, and looked at them. She looked at her spoon, and the feathers holding it. She looked at the wing the feathers were attached to- and followed it, past the secondaries she’d been straightening, to her own back. She could feel the other one, folded gently against her back.
Ariel burst into laughter.
Her mother sighed, and finally turned away. “Trust Fred and George to come up with something like this,” she mumbled.
Right on schedule, Fred and George walked in together. “Morning Mum! Ron’s not feeling too well today, so-!” Fred cut off with the suddenness of an axe.
“Say, Ginny, where did you get those wings?” George asked.
Ginny chomped on the next spoonful of cereal- the spoon still held by her wingtip- to buy herself some extra time to think about her answer. Unfortunately, though, she wasn’t able to think of anything. Where had her wings come from? It was just… she had them, and it felt like she’d had them all her life. Yet she hadn’t.
Finally, she remembered a dream, and it clicked.
That night, she had dreamed that she had wings, and had flown all over the landscape with them, enjoying the feel of the wind on her face. They had been tiny, short little wings, obviously magic-powered, and attached to her arms at that, but they had been wings. Perhaps magic had seen that dream, refined it, and given her something more realistic?
“I dreamed them,” she stated between mouthfuls, as she resumed straightening her secondaries. “What were you saying about Ron?”
“Oh, ah,” Fred mumbled. “We think he’s sick.”
“You… don’t want to turn back?” Lucius asked.
Silversong, who he knew was Draco, shook her head. “I do not ever want to turn back,” she said. Then she sighed, in that cute little way that all of Draco’s female forms did it. “Yes, I know, I will have to for school and, er, other things, but that doesn’t mean I want to.”
Lucius sighed, scowling. It was true; he didn’t think she’d turned back once in the week it had been since she got home, even though she’d had quite a bit of trouble performing various mundane tasks, such as going to bed, using the bathroom… or even leaning forwards to take a bite, since she was just short enough for her chest to strike the table every time she did, and it distracted her without fail.
“How about… your birthday party, today?”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Why can’t Draco just get mauled by a hippogriff or something so you can ‘adopt’ a new child that just happens to be female?”
He blinked, taken aback by her tone, and sighed. “I… I’m sure you know why.”
Emma Granger knocked gently on her daughter’s bedroom door before she stuck her head in. “Hermione? You doing okay?”
Hermione, balled up under the heap of blankets she’d constructed nearly a week before, moaned softly in response.
Emma walked in, and crouched down next to her bed without turning the lights on. “Do you need anything?” she asked, gently brushing her daughter’s hair back from her sizzling forehead. When she’d called the hospital shortly after it had started, they had baulked at her sixty-five degree body temperature and half-pleaded her to keep her daughter away from the hospital, as if they were afraid it was contagious. When she’d called the family doctor, he’d visited- and after looking at her, had shrugged and told them he was pretty sure it was a magic related something. Apparently, it was fairly normal for his part-phoenix daughter to run a core body temperature high enough to boil water, even if her skin was merely warm to the touch.
Thus, as near as anyone she could find could tell, they couldn’t really do anything but wait and see.
Hermione twitched, opening her eyes to smile up at her, despite the evident pain. “Water,” she muttered. “And soup.”
Emma smiled; Dan had made a great big pot of the best stew he knew how to make, and it was about the only thing that Hermione had an appetite for ever since it had started, just the day after she’d gotten home. He’d made another pot the night before.
Ginny looked up from her breakfast when Ron showed up on time around a week after they got home, looking tired, but healthy once again. She still had wings, and no idea how she’d gotten them- though her hair had brightened from the orange-ish red it had been before into a brilliant, gleaming red, split into thirds by yellow ‘racing stripes’ as Ariel liked to call them running down the length- almost exactly like Silver’s. Speaking of, her hair had also grown all the way to her waist.
“Good morning, Ron,” she greeted him.
“Good morning,” he answered tiredly.
When their mother served him, she raised an eyebrow. “Feeling okay today?” Ginny knew she and Arthur had been planning to take him to St. Mungo’s if he didn’t get better soon.
He nodded. “Yeah, somehow.” He shrugged.
Ginny giggled. “Nice hair,” she told him. It was brown- a deep, unspectacular brown.
“What-!?” he asked, looking at her.
She giggled again. “Oh don’t worry, you’re not Ronelda.”
“Ronelda?” Fred asked curiously, walking in.
Ron’s ears turned bright red, but Ginny waved it off. “But your hair has still grown quite a bit.”
Emma Granger fairly exploded into her daughter’s room when she heard a scream as she was walking past. “Hermione?” she cried.
Hermione was standing in the middle of the room, eyes wide with terror and breathing deeply. Even her wings- funny, she hadn’t had those before- were primed.
She quickly scanned the room for dangers, didn’t see any, and stepped forward to wrap Hermione in a hug. “What happened?” she asked, as she swept Hermione up to sit, with her, on the bed.
Hermione hugged her back, gently. “It- it was-!” She took a deep breath. “The… I felt better today, so I got out of bed. I…” She took another breath. “I realized I had wings, and was in the middle of scanning my magical core to figure out what all changed, when-!” She shuddered. “I don’t know what it was. There was some glow, then I was… somewhere else. Standing on clouds. Then more glow, and I floated in the air, and-!” She shuddered again. “And I was back.”
She scowled. “What did that?”
“I-!” She paused, thinking, then hugged her again. “I think it was my own magic. But why would it have-!? It doesn’t make any sense!”
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Wonder what's going on...and if Hailey's feeling it too
Yer a Princess, 'Mione.
65 either in F or C is problematic for the human body in the one scale they are EXTREMELY into hypothermia the other as you said roasted alive
11077720
Mmm…. No, she’s not feeling it too. I was gonna be all “spoilers”, but it’s not mentioned for quite a few chapters. What it is, though, is spoilers.
11077730
Yes, that was kinda the point. She’s stupidly hot, because magic…. Which, frankly, is the reason she survived it!
She’s not a Phoenix born, so I couldn’t justify a 98 C temp. That’s reserved for Angelina.
11077736
Aw, fine, I'll be patient
11077739 I was just making the point for the human body without some qualifiers scale of measurement doesn't matter she's either freezing or burning up. Maybe a kiren on the C scale or a Wendigo on the F scale though I'd lean towards a lower temp
11077744
The good news is that it’s like a chapter or two away, because Hermione inevitably figures it out.
Wow... Alicornism suddenly has a grand sale event?
11077748
Okay then
That, is a Lot of Magic, especially when they combine their efforts together.
Forget Steam Rolling the opposition.
This crew are a Strata Machine.
I'd like to see how Silver handles her birthday party.
In the other story Lucius was proud of how well they handled it. But this version seems more frustrated.
What did she ascend for?
11077778
I’m sorry to say I did offscreen it. Not the next one, though, it was particularly fun to write…
11077789
…. Spoilers!
11077763
Nevermind the whole “PTed wizards are stronger than native ponies” thing, that’s still in effect though unlikely to be observed in story for quite some time.
11077751
Only the one ascension. Ginny consciously turned pure-human at the end of her PT, and now turned back in her sleep…. And Ron doesn’t have wings.
Ok, now everyone is part phoenix for some reason
11077813
Voldemort more like volde
11077903
*Hands Ron a can of Red Bull*