prompts at the bottom
thanks to tiggs and ck for betaing!
434 words, by google docs
Albus is biting his tongue so hard that he thinks it might fall off. He is currently trying not to cry, because he has way more pride than that, but he feels sick. He wishes he was dead.
God, it was all his fault. If he hadn't gotten so caught up in his plans, if he had paid more attention to his brother and sister…
Maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe his sister would still be alive. Maybe his brother wouldn't hate him. Albus really wants to die.
He's sitting in the Godric's Hollow graveyard. He knows that he should probably be at home to make sure Aberforth isn't going crazy, but he feels calmer here; he's with his mother and sister.
He's about to stand up and leave when he hears a cry. Turning, he sees something that looks slightly like a chicken sitting in the dirt, its head bowed down. He's not sure if the cry came from the creature, but it lets out another cry, lifting its head, and he knows that it made the sound.
Albus walks closer, holding his wand out; he wouldn't put it past the creature to attack him.
"What are you?" he asks, although there's a thought of what it could be in the back of his mind. He knows that there's an easy way to find out if he's correct, but he wouldn't do that—if he's wrong…
The creature lifts its head one last time and looks Albus directly in the eyes, before crying once more and bursting into flames.
A little dumbfounded, Albus just stands there for a second, before walking over and bending down. He puts his fingers onto the ashes the fire has made and is reminded immediately of Muggle gunpowder.
"A phoenix," Albus whispers, watching a small head pop out of the ash. "How'd you get here? You're supposed to be really rare…"
The phoenix just blinks at him with wide eyes instead of answering his questions, and Albus decides to scoop it up in his hands. Maybe this is the universe's way of repaying him for destroying his family.
"Well, how about you come home with me?" The phoenix blinks again, so Albus takes that as a 'yes'.
He walks out of the graveyard, still holding it, thinking of a name. Looking down, he can see that the gunpowder-like ash has stained his hands.
Gunpowder…
"I think I'll call you Fawkes," Albus muses to it. "How does that sound?"
Fawkes makes a content noise, and Albus says the name again, just to feel it on his tongue.
"Fawkes."
for:
the houses comp [gryffindor, year 7 - drabble - phoenix prompt]
assignment 4 [care of magical creatures, task 3 - write about something rare]