Author's Note: I'm fairly new to this fandom so I'm a bit nervous about submitting a nonsense drabble among the wonderful reads on here, but I needed to write something light. I have a few more ideas for Ron's Scabbers, the Weasley's Errol and Snape's first pet (perhaps a few more), but for now, Dumbledore! =) I hope you enjoy it or at least make you smile (oh, fluff me up). Reviews would be lovely!

Albus and Fawkes

I wouldn't have called it love. Perhaps for bubbly, seven-year-old Albus it was love. For his glorious Phoenix (a pompous little devil stemmed from only the finest Avian family tree, I suppose) it was something else. It wasn't hatred nor was it indifference. That's much too harsh and clearly I'm not giving the bird enough credit. I think I can say with great aplomb that it was definitely one-sided.

Yes, that's satisfactory.

"Gid'yup, Fawkes, let's round up them cattle!" cried Albus in his very best American accent, which sounded more Irish than it did anything else.

Fawkes trotted around the front yard sluggishly. When his vision came to, he remembered to breathe. This was punishment. He was sure of it. Oh, it was fine when little Aberforth hopped on his back, in fact, that was very cute, but when Albus nearly took his back out leaping from off the patio for a turn, that was torture.

"Albus, sweetheart, don't play too rough," called Kendra from the house.

"I want to be just like Father and ride with the cowboys. Gid'yup!" He pulled the lasso tied around the Phoenix's neck and gave him a kick or two.

It was a surprise the bird didn't collapse.

But, it did burst into flames.

Fortunately, Albus came out unharmed. All of that was left of the Phoenix, however, were ashes and the smell of burnt chicken.

"F-Fawkes…?" A wide-eyed Albus sat there agape. "MUM! I KILLED FAWKES!"

"That's nice dear," Mother called from the open door.

"I sat on him too hard…" he whispered in disbelief. "Fawkes, I'm so sorry I'm too fat and sat on you too hard." Tears shed for he really did love that bird.

A miracle. A small chick dug its way from underneath the debris and smiled smugly at the little boy.

"Wow. It's magic." Yes, Albus. Magic. "I will christen you… Fawkes… the Second."

A sudden burst of flames and a new(er) chick appeared.

Albus looked at it confused. "Erm… Fawkes the Third."

Burst of flames again.

"The Fourth."

More flames.

"Fifth."

Flames.

"STOP THAT!"

Fawkes was enjoying this much, methinks.

Later, that evening…

"And what are you going to do when you die a billion times? I can't count that far! It'll take years! You'll just be nameless, is all."