You live a life of sorrow and loss.

It hadn't always been that way, of course. Centuries ago, when you were just a small chick, you had a mum and a dad and siblings. Yours was a happy family, and you loved them. But you were a rare bird and such as it was with rare creatures, you always had to be wary.

They came for your mum first, her red feathers brighter than the rest. The cries and yells from your siblings broke your heart, and you were not sure if it could withstand such pain. But alas, your mum was the first, but she would not be the last.

The pain would repeat itself as, one by one, each member of your family would disappear, captured by wizards with nefarious motives.

You were the only one left.

You were careful then. Much more careful than you had ever been before. It was hard to blend in, given your appearance of red and gold, but you tried your best. Luckily, you were quite successful, moving from place to place, able to keep the eyes of wizards off of you.

Until one day when you had decided to leave once more and somehow managed to come face to face with a wizard. You were panicked, of course, thinking that nothing good could come of this situation. Until you looked into the twinkling blue eyes of the wizard, and you knew he meant you no harm. He promised he would take care of you if you wanted to go with him. He had a school, he told you, where he taught the young ones magic. You were unsure of being around so many magic users, but you believed the wizard's promise that he would keep you safe.

And he did.

You had a nice, comfortable spot in his office and watched while many children came and then left. You tried not to think about the fact that some of these children would grow up to be wizards that liked to rip apart families.

And then he came.

You recognized the wand instantly, even though you had never actually seen it. You could feel that it held your feather. It excited you, as you knew only a great wizard could have chosen that wand. You keep a close eye on this young one, often travelling about the castle to watch over him.

And you do not like what you see.

With increasing sadness, you realize that this young one is not a good wizard. You hate to assign such a label as 'Dark' to one this young, but unfortunately, it is the truth. You were glad when he finally left the school, but you would soon learn that you would not be free from his atrocities. Whispers of disappearances, torture, and murder reached you, and you knew he was responsible.

It made your heart heavy with disappointment and hurt.

As time went on things got worse, and you watched as your wizard became increasingly worried about the state of affairs outside the castle walls. He was gone often, meeting with his 'order' that he had named after you. Being a peaceful bird, you weren't sure if you were flattered or insulted. Years of fighting and losing friends took a toll on the twinkly-eyed wizard, and you felt helpless. The wizards' war came to a screeching halt with the death of some of your wizard's favourite students: the Potters.

It saddened you, the loss of innocent life, and for the first time since you willingly went along with your wizard, you felt the despair overwhelm you. You would go through six burning cycles the year of the Potters' deaths as a result from the stress.

Things began to look up, though, and soon life went on as though the name Tom Riddle never crossed anyone's lips. You didn't understand the short memory of these humans. It was if they had all just... forgotten. But not you.

No, you never forgot.

And then, just when you thought things were starting to get a bit boring, it happened. The other wand that held your feather came to the castle. In the hands of Harry Potter. You watch this young one as you watched the other and are pleased he doesn't seem to be going down the same road. That doesn't mean, however, that the young one stays out of trouble. Oh no, he seems to be a magnet for it, if anything.

You know that you wizard cares for the young one, possibly out of some guilt. So when there was an incident with a Basilisk (nasty creatures, those), you went against your nature and fought the creature to save the young one. You would do it again.

Times grew darker, and suddenly the past was repeating itself. There were battles and deaths and the reformation of that 'order'. Your wizard could often be found muttering to himself about how it was possible that the Dark one had returned. It seemed he found his answer when he returned to his office one night with a blackened hand and a destroyed ring.


The word meant nothing to you, of course, but you understood the intent. The Dark one made them to achieve immortality. 'How foolish of him,' you thought. Your wizard met with the young one frequently after that, and you knew something bad was going to happen soon. You were dismayed when it turned out that you were right.

At the end of that school year, your wizard would fall at the hand of his friend. Your already fractured heart cracked completely at his death. You would sing at his funeral and leave immediately after, knowing you would never return. You've learned a lesson that the Dark one never could; a lesson he sorely needed.

Immortality is not a gift. It is a curse.

A curse that is forever.

Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition
Prompt: Write in the POV of a creature. Mine was Phoenix.
Go Wanderers!

Written for Hogwarts – Care of Magical Creatures: Write about something you are stuck with for life. I can't think of anything you would be more stuck with than immortality!

Thanks to Raybe and Jordi for the beta duties