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A man with a black traveling cloak wrapped around him took a deep breath before knocking on the door before him.

"Come in." A cold voice spoke from inside, and Severus Snape pushed the door open to be met with the sight of Lord Voldemort himself. He bowed immediately to the Dark Lord who nodded at him. "Ah, Severus. Yes, you've arrived earlier than expected."

"Yes, My Lord." Snape answered politely. "What is it that you request my assistance with?"

"It's Deanna." Voldemort sighed and patted Nagini's head mindlessly. "I've been seeing her again."

"How many times has it been?" Snape immediately cleared his head of all thoughts when his own dark eyes locked with Voldemort's red ones. He did hear of it from Dumbledore who was also having his own problems. He knew he couldn't risk any chance of letting Voldemort into his mind.

"Three." Voldemort finally looked away, making Snape relax a little. He directed his attention towards Nagini and gave another sigh. "We've seen each other three times already, but this is different. The previous year, it was them seeing me. And now, we're seeing each other. Why is that?"

"Perhaps, it's because you two have not yet closed yourselves off to each other." Snape's explanation made Voldemort look at him with slight confusion. Anyone would think Voldemort could not feel anything other than hatred, but there was only one person who could make him feel everything all at once.

"You can't use Legilimency on a person who had closed their mind off." Snape continued explaining. "You care for her, My Lord, and it seems she does so too."

Voldemort lifted his head up and a small smile made its way onto his face. "Is that so? Very well then, thank you, Severus. You may go now, and we'll have a meeting tomorrow."

Snape gave a deep bow and left the room with a flourish of his robe. As soon as the door closed, Voldemort started speaking to Nagini in Parseltongue. "Just a little longer, Nagini. Just a little longer, and we'll have her back with us."

And he suddenly remembered Deanna asking herself is she had feelings for someone. He immediately clenched his fist at the thought of his love being with someone else, and Voldemort never knew he could ever feel this emotion. This unfamiliar emotion that made him feel as if someone had taken his heart and crushed it into pieces.

But even if Deanna was in love with someone else, Voldemort would never give up on her. The fact that Deanna still cared for him was enough for him to hold on. He loved Deanna, and he would do everything if it meant having her.

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"Wha –" Deanna's eyes widened when she saw the person who had woken her up. There was her father with a small smile on his face and a glass of chocolate milk and a plate of hotdogs in his hands.

"Breakfast?" Dumbledore asked, still smiling.

Deanna hesitated before nodding and taking the food from him. "Thank you." The two Dumbledores ate in silence in the kitchens. Deanna just noticed that only the two of them were there and she had no excuse of getting out of this conversation.

"I'm sorry, Pops." Deanna finally said after a few moments of silence. Dumbledore stopped eating at that and carefully put down his fork. Deanna took in a deep breath before continuing to speak. "I know you just wanted to protect me, but I just lashed out and ignored you. I'm sorry for not being a good daughter."

Deanna fiddled with her hands and looked down at her lap, hoping that Dumbledore would forgive her, hoping that they would be all right. Suddenly, the sound of Dumbledore's chair screeching echoed around the room.

Deanna closed her eyes and prepared for the worst, for Dumbledore to leave without a word, but to her surprise, a pair of warm arms wrapped around her, and as if a switch was turned on, Deanna's tears started falling and she hugged Dumbledore back just as tight.

"I-I'm sorry, Pops. I'm sorry." Deanna kept apologizing through her sobs. "I'm so sorry. I missed you, Pops."

"Shhh. Don't apologize, love." Dumbledore blinked back his tears, trying to keep himself strong for Deanna. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you, little phoenix. I missed you too, love. I missed you too."

The two of them let out their feelings out, weeks apart made them long for each other. Father and daughter were finally reunited, and they would never let go of each other again.

"So, I heard you and Miss Granger are finally together?" Dumbledore chuckled when Deanna blushed and buried her face in her hands.

"How does news spread so fast here?" Deanna groaned and ran a hand over her face, but when Dumbledore was laughing, she could not help but laugh with him, and it seemed everything was all right. All was well. They were fine.

"I'm happy, Pops." Deanna sighed in contentment, smiling at the pendant around her neck. "She makes me happy."

"And I'm glad, love." Dumbledore kissed the top of her head. He then let out a deep sigh. "But there is something we must discuss."

Deanna's face fell because she immediately knew what he was talking about. "Pops, you don't have to –"

"No, love, you're right. You deserve to know, and it was wrong of me to hide it from you." Dumbledore gave her hand a squeeze and took something from behind the couch. It was a Pensieve. "Actually, it's you who has the answer, love. In your memories."

"Memories?" Deanna was confused. Was she missing something? Dumbledore suddenly took out his wand and paused, asking for Deanna's permission. Deanna nodded and let him touch his wand to Deanna's forehead and take out a memory. Unlike the usual memories that have silver glows, hers had a golden one.

"Pops, why is it gold?" Deanna asked in both curiosity and confusion. It looked mystical, and Deanna had felt an unexplainable pull to it, like she wanted... she needed to know what it was. Dumbledore watched her for a moment before putting the memory into the basin and nodding to her. Deanna did not waste another moment and immediately dived into the memory with Dumbledore.

To Deanna's surprise, they were in the Headmaster's office, but it wasn't Dumbledore's office at the time. It was Armando Dippet's. "Pops?"

"We're in your old memory, love." Dumbledore smiled when the small Deanna finally appeared from inside one of the armors. "A memory you had when you were just five years old."

"That's me." Deanna ran to the little five-year old Deanna and gasped. It really was her. "Why am I so..."

"So what?"

"So adorable." Deanna grinned at Dumbledore who simply sighed and started walking around. Deanna pouted and followed him while keeping her eye on the little her.

"Do you remember this day? It was the day I was meeting with Armando." Dumbledore started explaining. "We were meeting about the prophecy."

Deanna stopped looking at the little her who was now running around with Fawkes and looked at her father. "The prophecy?"

"I was afraid you were the heir of the phoenixes so I met up with Armando and asked him about it, and suddenly, this happened." Dumbledore pointed to where little Deanna had now stopped in front of the Sorting Hat, and she was looking at it curiously.

"Fawkes, a hat!" Deanna giggled and jumped as high as she can to take the hat, but to no avail.

"Dear Founders, save me." The Sorting Hat moaned when Deanna wouldn't give up and tried to reach the hat again.

"Fawkes, a talking hat!" Deanna grinned at the phoenix beside her. Fawkes let out a cry and suddenly flew up to the Hat.

"You too, bird?" The Sorting Hat let out a sigh because he couldn't do anything. He could only wait for the Headmaster and this troublemaker's father to come and save him.

Deanna was about to wear the Hat when she saw something inside it. Something was glinting and out of curiosity, the little girl reached her hand inside the hat.

"What are you doing, girl?" The Sorting Hat asked.

"A sword." The little Deanna grunted and managed to heave the sword of Gryffindor out of the hat. The present Deanna watched the scene with surprise. The legendary sword of Gryffindor was only yielded by true Gryffindors. She was a Hufflepuff. Why could she take out the sword of Gryffindor?

"Not only Gryffindors take out the sword of Gryffindor, love." Dumbledore explained as they followed the little girl. "You have always been brave and that enabled you to take it out of the hat." Deanna just nodded and watched her younger self.

Little Deanna cheered and tried lifting the sword, but it was too heavy for her five-year old body. She tried lifting it once more, and she managed to get the sword up, but it was still too heavy. She yelped and accidentally stumbled.

"Oi, kid. No!" The Sorting Hat shouted, but it was too late. Deanna had accidentally stabbed herself with the sword, also stabbing Fawkes who was flying behind her. The present Deanna bit her lip in embarrassment. She knew she was stupid but she didn't know she was this stupid.

"P-Pops." Deanna pulled the sword out with all her might and fell to the ground, clutching her stomach.

"Oh, dear Founders, help me. Hey, kid. Stay awake, don't you close your eyes." The Sorting Hat shouted to her. Now, even some of the portraits were awake, and they too were shouting to Deanna. Some were leaving their paintings and looking for help.

Deanna simply nodded and held her hand to where she had stabbed herself. Fawkes started making his way to Deanna despite him too being injured. He managed to get himself beside Deanna, and he rested his body on top of hers.

In her confusion, the present Deanna looked at Dumbledore. "Pops, what –"

Dumbledore put a finger to his lips and pointed to the scene. "Look." Deanna was still confused, but she looked back at where she and Fawkes were, and her eyes widened then.

The song of a phoenix filled the room, a melody that felt too familiar to Deanna. A melody she heard the day she returned. A golden barrier enveloped little Deanna and Fawkes. Deanna looked closer, and she saw the blood from her wound and the blood from Fawkes were moving towards each other as if something had attracted them towards each other.

Suddenly, when the two bloods had become one, the red liquid turned into one of gold. That golden liquid separated and started moving towards Deanna and Fawkes and fire had enveloped both Deanna and Fawkes. Despite the heat, it looked as if it had no effect on Deanna and Fawkes. Like it was just a normal thing to them. The red flamed turned into gold and back into red... All so suddenly, the fire had died and the room turned back to normal.

The portraits and the Sorting Hat were silent for moments, too shocked to say a word. Then, Deanna opened her eyes and sat up slowly, blinking to look around. Fawkes too had lifted his head from Deanna's lap and blinked.

"Kid, you all right?" The Sorting Hat asked with worry. "What just happened?"

Deanna was about to say a word when suddenly she brushed Fawkes' feathers and she and Fawkes fell back to the ground in unison. Deanna then felt herself being pulled up and in a moment, they were back in the kitchens.

Deanna stared at the Pensieve in shock, amazement and confusion. "Pops..."

"Your prophecy, love. It was one from long ago." Dumbledore put back the Pensieve and stared into Deanna's eyes, finally ready to tell her the truth... part of the truth. "When you woke up after that, you couldn't remember anything. We asked you what happened, but you said you couldn't remember. All you remember was the feeling of warmth."

"Yeah, I think I remember that." Deanna held a hand to her stomach where she had accidentally cut herself. "It was like I was in a fire, but the fire didn't burn. It felt like someone was embracing me."

"That's because you are the heir of the phoenixes, love. This incident with you and Fawkes tied you to each other. It was the reason why you were feeling a different pain when you used the Blood Quill. Fawkes too was feeling pain then. Your blood is not one that should be mixed with dark magic."

Dumbledore paused for a moment before continuing. "Phoenix tears may heal, but a phoenix's blood is sacred. Once you have contact with a phoenix's blood, you are bound to each other... That's why Fawkes's tears do not work on you unless you're touching him."

Deanna just nodded because his explanation was making some of the pieces fall into the puzzle. "Then, what about the prophecy? You knew it was me then?"

"We only had speculations." Dumbledore let out a sigh and smiled at her. "Are your questions answered now, love?"

"Yeah, thanks, Pops." Deanna hugged him tight and frowned when she noticed his hand again. "I'm sorry, Pops. I've been a bad daughter."

"You aren't, little phoenix." Dumbledore kissed the top of her head and smiled warmly, knowing that everything was fine between them. "You just had questions, and you wanted to know the truth. It is not a crime to want answers. But I do need some answers as well."

Deanna nodded, knowing immediately what he was talking about, and she dove into talking about her encounters with Voldemort. She did not leave out a detail because she too wanted to understand what was happening, and maybe, Dumbledore could give her some answers.

"What's happening, Pops?"

Dumbledore stared at her for a moment, the same stare she gave others whenever she was trying to get something out of them. Then, he sighed once more. "I'm not sure, love. Harry hasn't been getting visions anymore."

"Do you think it's the prophecy?" Deanna's question made Dumbledore stare at her again like he did a few moments ago.

"I think so, but I might be wrong." Dumbledore shook his head and smiled. "Well, enough of this heavy talk, yes? I think I'd like to catch up with my daughter now after not hearing about her for three weeks."

Deanna grinned widely before immediately diving into the story, having more excitement when telling him about the night she and Hermione got together.

Dumbledore just chuckled at her excitement and continued listening to her though he still had a feeling of uneasiness in him. He convinced himself that it would be all right in the end, but somehow, he knew no matter how many times he said it, it wouldn't. Tragedy was going to strike soon, and he could only hope Deanna could stay strong when it came.

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