Polyjuice Potion

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It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat—the Sorting Hat.

Harry hesitated. He cast a wary eye around the sleeping witches and wizards on the walls. Surely it couldn't hurt if he took the hat down and tried it on again? Krishna who was waiting with him looked away.

Just to see... just to ensure it had put him in the right House. He walked quietly around the desk, lifted the hat from its shelf, and lowered it slowly onto his head. It was much too large and slipped down over his eyes, just as it had done the last time he'd put it on. Harry stared at the black inside of the hat, waiting. Then a small voice said in his ear, „Bee in your bonnet, Harry Potter?"

„Er, yes," Harry muttered. „Er—sorry to bother you—I wanted to ask—" „You've been wondering whether I put you in the right House," said the hat smartly. „Yes... you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before"—Harry's heart leaped—you would have done well in Slytherin but loyalty is what you value the most"

Harry sighed and put the hat gently back. It didn't move. Harry backed away, watching it. Then a strange, gagging noise behind him made him wheel around. They weren't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Harry stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again.

Krishna just smiled at the poor bird and gently pats its head. Harry thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Harry watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.

Harry was just thinking that all he needed was for Dumb as a door's pet bird to die while they were alone in the office with it when the bird burst into flames. Harry yelled in shock and backed away into the desk and behind Krishna. He looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere but couldn't see one; the bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and the next second there was nothing but a smoldering pile of ash on the floor.

The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very somber .„Professor," Harry said. „Your bird—I couldn't do anything—he just caught fire—" To Harry's surprise, Krishna spoke smiling.

„About time, too," he said. „He's been looking dreadful ." He chuckled at the stunned look on Harry's face. As Dumbledore moved next to them.

„This is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him..." Harry looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one.„It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. „Fawkes is very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."

"Huh," Harry said

In the shock of Fawkes catching fire, Harry had forgotten what he was there for, but it all came back to him as Dumbledore settled himself in the high chair behind the desk and fixed Harry with his penetrating, light-blue stare.

Before Dumbledore could speak another word, however, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes, his balaclava perched on top of his shaggy black head and the dead rooster still swinging from his hand.

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