"I'm so sorry, again, Professor Dumbledore," said Molly, ignoring her four-year-old daughter, who was tugging repeatedly at her skirt. "I don't know what's gotten into that boy."
Dumbledore put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "It seems Charlie has developed quite an aptitude for dealing with magical creatures," he said. "After all, not many second-years could capture a crateful of bowtruckles and release them in a classroom without getting a single scratch." He sounded quite serious, but his beard twitched and his eyes were twinkling.
"Yes, well," said Molly, sounding rather harassed, "he won't be doing it again, I'll see to that."
"Tell him he ought to consider taking Care of Magical Creatures next year," said Dumbledore, smiling as he handed Molly a small bowl of Floo Powder.
"I'll be telling him a great deal more than that," Molly said darkly. "What is it, Ginny, dear?" she added, turning to her daughter, who was still tugging on her skirt.
"I wanna pet the bird!" she said, pointing at Fawkes.
Molly glanced up. "No, Ginny, that's Professor Dumbledore's bird," she said kindly, taking her daughter's hand. "We don't touch him."
"But it's pretty," Ginny said, her eyes filling with tears. "Please?"
"I said no, Ginny, now let's go," said Molly, in a slightly firmer tone.
"No!" said Ginny, yanking her hand out of Molly's grip. She was momentarily unbalanced and fell over, scraping her arm on the sharp corner of the desk. She began to cry.
There was a flutter of wings, and then Fawkes had landed neatly beside Ginny, whose arm was bleeding. He bent his head over the little girl's arm and dropped a single tear onto Ginny's wound. It immediately began to knit itself back together, and Ginny stopped crying, staring down at her newly repaired arm.
She reached a hand out and stroked Fawkes's soft head. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation for a moment before taking off and landing back on his perch.
"Thanks, birdy," said Ginny, and then she took her mother's hand and they departed through the fireplace, Molly mouthing a "thank you" to Dumbledore as they left.
Dumbledore smiled to himself as he stroked Fawkes's head himself. The phoenix was a lovely creature, but Dumbledore secretly believed that no phoenix was quite like Fawkes. Not many birds had the compassion to heal a crying child.
Yes, Fawkes was definitely something special.