the_debt_of_time

"No," Pandora agreed. "But there is always rebirth."
Mia nodded in understanding. Harry was proof that there was rebirth in the world,
and not just in the "coming back from the dead" kind of way he seemed to excel at, much
to her anxiety. Harry was James and Lily but also himself. The future was a reflection of
the past mixed with progression toward a better world. She felt selfish for wanting to
change the good that the future held, all to prevent the pain of the past. But was it James's
pain? Lily's pain? Or was she trying to prevent her own grief?
"Is the suffering necessary, though? Can't there be rebirth without the burning?
Without fire?"
Pandora's eyes lit up as though she suddenly had something exciting to share. She
took Mia's hands within her own. "Fire isn't something to fear. It cleanses better than water,
did you know? And ash can be very beneficial. Ash gives life to phoenixes. And look how
strong they are. They can carry heavy loads, their tears can heal the most fatal wounds, and
their song gives courage to the good and strikes fear in the heart of evil. Would we have
that song without the burning? Without the fire and the ash?"
Mia felt tears forming, and she did her best to hold them back. She could not quite
tell if this meeting had been a wise decision—if Pandora's words were helping. She could
not change the future. She could not change anything. She felt helpless and hopeless and
completely incapable of making a difference in anything.
"I wish I were a phoenix," Mia confessed sadly, letting tears fall down her cheeks.
"Then I could heal the wounds that are being inflicted on this world."
Pandora leant forward and affectionately touched Mia's cheek, a sweet smile on her
face. "The phoenix can't stop itself from burning," she whispered as though it were a
secret—or maybe because it was sacred. "It will always burn. If it doesn't burn on Sunday,
it will burn on Tuesday, or Thursday if it's inclined to. But it will always burn, and then
rise, reborn from the ashes. No matter how painful the fire, it still sings for those who need
it to."
With the last bit of hope for changing the future gone, Mia bent forward and
sobbed. Pandora wrapped her arms around her and held her tight, rocking her back and
forth as she cried.
"You're not the tears of the phoenix, Mia Potter. Don't you see? You're the song."