Harry suffered the usual grievous wounds in the Chamber of Secrets, but Fawkes was a bit slower in his reactions. Phoenix tears were not sufficient to combat the basilisk venom coursing in Harry’s veins. Yet Fawkes was not one to give up. Ignoring the taunting of Tom Riddle’s shade, Fawkes pierced Harry’s skin right over his heart and inserted a part of her magic, her very essence, into Harry’s bloodstream. At Fawkes’ urging, an enormous conflagration rose up, originating in Harry’s heart. The cleansing flames burned off the venom, Tom’s shade and diary, even the basilisk’s corpse. When the inferno died down, there was only a smug looking phoenix, one Ginny Weasley in absolutely perfect health, and Harry Potter, healthier than he’d ever been, only above his heart, there was a scar resembling a flame.
As it usually happens, the furor died down at Hogwarts, yet something was different. Whenever Harry felt sad or anxious, he felt a warmth on his heart. Fawkes was a frequent guest in Harry’s quarters and Dumbledore was overjoyed at the phoenix having found another friend. Once, when Harry woke up from a bad dream, he noticed his fist grasping a ball of roiling flames, feeling the now familiar warmth in his hand. Since then, the flame came in answer to Harry’s feelings.
At Dumbledore’s urging, Harry studied a discipline called Occlumency, driven to better understand his feelings and wanting to be able to call the flame at will. He was even more motivated by the pervasive presence of the dementors at school. And Harry was vindicated, for when dementors swarmed around him as he stood in protection of his godfather, his flame called and lashed out. Hungry flames driven by Harry’s will consumed the now shrieking monsters, as they briefly experienced an emotion entirely foreign to them, terror. What knew not of death until then, was purged from this world.
It did not take very long for Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Champion, to negotiate a meeting with Harry, since he too was set to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. The Veela did not waste words, quickly calling a flame of her own and beseechingly looking into Harry’s eyes. “’Ow do you wield the Sacred Flame?"