Wow! Over sixty reviews already! Give yourselves a hand, everyone! WOO! Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter, but I do own Ethan and, to some extent, Fawkes's personality. :-P
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When Ethan awoke, the hammock was passing over the English countryside. Well, Ethan guessed it was the English countryside by the endless maze of old stone walls that divided the pastureland below into slightly lopsided squares, and the obvious fact that England was their destination.
"Well, look who's awake!" Fawkes looked down at Ethan, and the boy got the impression that the bird would have grinned nastily if his beak allowed him to.
"You said you would wake me when we reached land!" Tearing open the bag of chips, Ethan dug in and glanced accusingly up at the phoenix. "Why didn't you?"
"You just looked so cute lying there, all curled up in your blankies." Fawkes started cackling, which rapidly degenerated into a hacking fit so severe that the boy half expected to see a chunk of Fawkes's lung fly out. The bird recovered and continued in his usual, maliciously sarcastic tone. "Just like a liddle angel!"
"Oh, shut up," Ethan grumbled, hurriedly scribbling a note to his mother and talking a seagull into taking it back to America.
"You really ought to be more polite to someone who's been heaving your sorry arse across half a country AND an ocean," Fawkes commented once the seagull was gone.
"Well, I could have taken a plane," Ethan replied icily.
"Yeah, we thought about that, but Trelawny had one of her visions of doom, so Dumbledork told me I had to take you myself. I wasn't thrilled about it, let me tell you" the phoenix trailed off, squinting into the distance. "Well, there's Hogwarts! About time, too"
Ethan leaned forward to get his first glimpse of his home away from home. There was the lake he had read about; as he watched, a giant tentacle shot out of the water, wrapped itself around a crow, and disappeared beneath the surface with the bird in tow. Ethan winced. Note to self: absolutely no swimming in the lake.
He raised his eyes and there, in all its glory, was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And he had to admit it looked good. Better than the books had described it. Its ridiculous amount of towers gleamed in the early morning sunshine, which reflected brightly off the windows of what must have been the Great Hall. In the distance, Ethan could see Hagrid mowing the lawn by herding a flock of what appeared to be sheep with fish tails bursting out of where their bottoms should have been across the grass.
"Mersheep," Fawkes explained as Fang rounded up a few strays. "Hagrid's got 'em trained up; they eat the grass down to two inches and move on."
"They were never mentioned in the book."
"There was plenty left out! And they live in the lake, mostly, anyway." Ethan watched with widening eyes as a stray mersheep Fang had missed wandered a bit too close to the Whomping Willow and was batted thirty yards through the air like a baaing badminton birdie. It lay motionless for a moment, then picked itself up, shook itself off, and staggered back over to the rest of the flock, none the worse for wear. Was that a regular occurrence?
Before Ethan could ask, they were spiraling down towards the lawn, which was empty except for Hagrid and his flock. Fawkes stopped and hovered several feet above the lawn.
"Climb on out and follow me. We can take your stuff to your room before we go to Diagon Alley."
"My room? But I haven't been sorted yet! And where is everyone?"
"Kid, you're the main character. You're going to be in Gryffindor. If that senile old rag of a hat tries to put you anywhere else during the sorting tonight, just threaten to burn it. That usually works. And everyone else arrives tonight; we're just a bit early." Fawkes set the hammock on the ground and picked up Ethan's suitcase, then started flapping towards the gate. Ethan jogged to keep up, wincing at the stiffness in his legs.
If the outside of Hogwarts castle was impressive, it was nothing compared to the inside. The moving portraits took one look at Ethan and immediately began whispering amongst themselves and pointing at him. The phrase "main character" pursued him down the halls as Fawkes led him towards the Gryffindor common room. Ethan immediately began keeping track of where they were going, more than a little bit worried about becoming lost in the numerous corridors. Left, right, up a staircase, right, behind the giant tapestry of a dragon, left, up another staircase, right, right, right, right
"You led us in a circle!" Ethan accused. Fawkes laughed nastily.
"Heh heh heh sorry, kid, it's this way"
A few minutes later, they had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Fawkes obtained the password by holding a flaming pinion inches from the canvas. "It's all over if you don't sing, Fat Lady!" he had cackled maliciously as she whimpered and clutched at her pink dress. They were admitted with astounding swiftness, and Ethan got the impression that he would never need a password again.
They passed through the scarlet and gold common room, with its numerous squashy chairs and couches, and up the stairs to the boys dormitories. Ethan pushed open the door marked "first-years" and dumped his suitcase at the foot of one of the beds. A blank, brass nameplate on the wood automatically engraved itself with Ethan's name.
"Well, that's done. Now we have to go to Diagon Alley and get your things"
"Can we get breakfast somewhere?" Ethan asked as they climbed (or flew) out of the portrait hole, the Fat Lady watching them with wide, frightened eyes.
"Yeah, we can make a pit stop in Hogsmeade." Fawkes led Ethan back out of the castle and picked the hammock back up. "Sit yourself down; it's a short flight."
Hogsmeade, to Ethan's surprise (and slight dismay) had a McDonald's complete with a fly-thru window. The owners had clearly tried to make the restaurant look and seem magical and mysterious, but its golden arches were still evident beneath the swarms of pixies. He didn't even have to leave the hammock to order his meal (which he received free as soon as the young wizard in the window got a good look at him). Inside five minutes they were heading towards Diagon Alley through the clear morning sky, Ethan munching on his Expecto Egg McMuffin and slurping a "Bubbling Bludger Brew" that tasted suspiciously like regular Coke.
Fawkes flew much faster than usual, as he was really getting tired of carrying the hammock around (and Ethan was really tired of both sitting in it and hearing Fawkes complain about it). They reached Diagon Alley within an hour and landed in a small, empty alleyway. Ethan stumbled gratefully out of the hammock, and Fawkes incinerated it with relish. Two charred metal rings were all that was left, and they clinked as they struck the cobblestones.
"Here, you can carry me for a while," Fawkes grumbled, landing on Ethan's shoulder. "First stop is Gringott's. Head out of this alleyway and take a right."
Boy and bird walked up Diagon Alley, Ethan taking as much of it in as he could. The street was full of witches and wizards and their families, all chattering and jostling together, a pickpocket's dream. On each side there were fascinating shops, everything from apothecaries to cafés (it was bad, Ethan decided, when you couldn't quite tell the difference) to owleries. And up ahead were the large marble columns of Gringott's.
"Fawkes," Ethan said softly, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he was speaking to a bird, "I don't have any money here. All I have is an ATM card."
"You worry too much, kid. Dumblebum set up an account for you and deposited two busy-galleons in it, so you're set."
"From what I've read, two galleons isn't going to buy me all of my things!"
"These aren't galleons, they're busy-galleons."
"Well, what the heck are busy-galleons?"
"Galleons that get busy," Fawkes said with a suggestive snigger. Ethan stared at the bird for a long moment.
"You've got to be kidding me." He shook his head. "Even if there is such a thing as money that can can breed it can't be legal."
"Hey, Dumbledore set it up so the bank gets every coin's firstborn, so the goblins are making a tidy sum out of the deal. And making tidy sums is about all they care about."
"But if every busy-galleon makes more busy-galleons, then that means the money in my account is going to grow exponentially until it I dunno, bursts out and starts flooding the streets!"
"They start slowing down once they run out of room," Fawkes explained as Ethan climbed up the wide steps. "What did I just tell you about worrying, anyway?! Clean out your ears, bucko!"
"Sorry, sorry," Ethan muttered under his breath as he passed into the dark, cool interior of the bank. A long counter ran down one wall, at which sat dozens of goblins scribbling on parchments, counting coins, and measuring precious stones on scales.
"Okay," Fawkes said, "see that particularly ugly one on the end with the nose that looks like something's been chewing on it? Walk up to him and tell him who you are."
Ethan approached the goblin, glancing at Fawkes for reassurance. The bird had produced a cigarette from somewhere and was lighting up again.
"Um," Ethan said timidly. The goblin looked up from the fist-sized emerald it had been polishing and sneered at him, revealing a mouthful of small, sharp teeth. "H-hello I'm, er, Ethan Williams." The sneer became more pronounced, if anything.
"Not your name, nitwit!" Fawkes blew a smoke ring. "Your title!"
"I don't have a title," Ethan whispered vehemently back, "I'm just a boy!" The goblin raised an eyebrow; he had never seen anyone start chirping angrily at a bird before.
"Tell him," Fawkes explained slowly, as if Ethan didn't understand English, "that you're the main character."
"Fine." Ethan turned back up to the goblin. "I'm the main character."
"Ah!" The goblin's features split into an ingratiating and quite scary smile. "Of course! Griphook here will assist you." He snapped his fingers, and a goblin with somewhat shifty eyes and a pointy beard leaped forward and bowed.
"Right this way, sir." The goblin led Ethan to a small wooden cart on a set of metal tracks, looking like a very cheap roller coaster. Ethan climbed in, and a moment later they were rocketing deep underground, bright orange blurs of torchlight whooshing by on either side. Ethan gripped the sides of the cart and prayed that it would be over soon; Fawkes started swearing a blue streak when the rushing air snatched his cigarette from his beak and tumbled it out of sight.
Just as Ethan was starting to wonder how deep Gringott's could possibly go, the cart screeched to a halt. Ethan climbed out, legs trembling slightly, feeling both exhilarated and on the verge of collapse. Fawkes lit up again, grumbling incoherently.
"Vault number five thousand, two hundred and eighty-seven!" Griphook announced. Then the goblin stood aside and looked expectantly at Ethan.
"Um," Ethan said nervously, looking down at the goblin. In a moment of extreme unhelpfulness, Fawkes took a long drag and blew a stream of smoke down the tunnel. Ethan gave the bird an annoyed look, then turned back to Griphook. "Uh, is there something I should be doing?"
"It's quite simple," Griphook said with his own variation of the trademark large, scary grin. "You must run your finger down it, like this -" he demonstrated, and almost immediately disappeared with a quiet pop. A muffled "shit" emanated from behind the door.
'You've got to be kidding me,' Ethan thought, eyeing the door with considerable trepidation. "Isn't it supposed to work the other way around?" he said aloud.
"What is it with you and going on about everything?!" Fawkes demanded, tapping ash off the end of his cigarette. "Just because you've read the books doesn't make you a friggin' expert, kid! Now do what the damn goblin said; we haven't got all day!"
"All right," Ethan said, nettled. He reached out and ran his index finger down the door. It swung open with a creak, revealing an embarrassed looking Griphook and a mound of galleons that nearly reached the ceiling. "Whoa."
"As you can see," Griphook said, "no one but yourself may enter your vault and be able to leave."
"Right," Ethan said dazedly, still gaping at the towering piles of gold.
"Just grab one or two and stick 'em in your pocket," Fawkes advised, ruffling his feathers. Ethan obeyed, grabbing three to be safe and slipping them into the pockets of his jeans. A few minutes later, they were rocketing back up the tunnel.
As Ethan stepped gratefully out of the bank and into the sunshine, Fawkes told him to check his pockets. Already there were five galleons in one pocket and three in the other. The boy couldn't decide if the fact that his money was getting jiggy in his pocket was fascinatingly convenient or disturbing and slightly wrong.
"All right, kid," Fawkes said, flicking his cigarette away, "time to get your school supplies."
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This may seem like a bad place to cut off, but if I didn't, this chapter would be a doozy and every chapter afterwards would seem woefully short by comparison. And we don't want that. I can, however, tell you that you are going to enjoy the next chapter very much! Muahaha!
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Well, I'm glad you're enjoying the fic, but sad that I made you wet your pants, even if you did have protection. :P
Vanyaria Darkshadow: Your review honestly made my day! I got all teary when I read it. Thanks so much!! (hug)
Skimbleshanks: Good way, bad way (shrugs) And the reason that I didn't include lyrics is because I don't think I could have written any of them down in good conscious. ;-)
Anamaria Elentari: Enjoy your plushie, hehehehe. I'm surprised at the positive reaction Fawkes has been getting.
Billy Idol of Platypi: Hehehe, Legolas if I wasn't already doing a LOTR-HP crossover with Nigel, I would. As of right now, I think Ethan's enough, lol.
Witch of Darkness: Glad you like my characterization of Fawkes so much! Yes, Ethan at Hogwarts shall be interesting. So shall Ethan doing his school shopping, muahaha!
christy the badger: Fawkes has his own stash, I imagine. Maybe he keeps them under his feathers, or steals them from passerby. He's a phoenix; he has his methods, I'm sure. :P
Fuji the Hobbit: Well, the next few chapters, for sure. He seems to prefer Ethan's company to anyone else's. Thanks!
TheSiriusSparrow: The good news, yes it does. The bad news, only parrotmouths can understand it. Wait, that is also probably good news anyway, thanks for the review! :D
phaidra: Glad you liked phoenix song, hehe. You wouldn't have liked it if you had heard it!
Ember the Angry Firedrake: The plushie sings, you just won't hear the lyrics, hehehe. And this chapter ended up being longer than I had originally planned, so NEXT chapter will be the fun one.
Kathryn Bushore: Hysterical is a fun word, isn't it? No one wants to know what he sang. It was awful and emotionally scarring for poor Ethan.
FrighteninglyObsessed: Well, not literal torture. Fawkes is really feeling the love right now, sheesh
Hirilnara: Muahahahaha! I've corrupted you! Good look keeping pure, hehehe! I don't even know the words, all I know is that it was bad. And Fawkes is currently taking the opportunity to blow off all of the steam he's been keeping in for so long he'll get a bit nicer as the fic progresses and he runs out of things to rant about. ;-)
The Weaseling Dragon: Here I was, assuming that everyone already knew cigarettes were dangerous. Silly me. :-P Hope this is up soon enough for you not that I condone procrastination or anything
Lady Lifecharm: Well, if you didn't have a least favorite part, that's good enough for me! Thanks!
morph: It's great having reviewers who watch my back, hehehe. Phoenix song as become suddenly very, very ironic, hasn't it? :-P
McLean: Aww, no problem. I'm just glad you're reading it and liking it!
Katie115: (Jack Sparrow accent) That's verrrry interesting. :P
Laire: Comedies always are more fun plus, novelty is more fun as well. I mean, look at me; this is chapter four of this fic, and I haven't updated the Sequel since I started this! Shame on me that's going to have to be my next project.
D6: Well, considering that Fawkes is going to be around yes. Yes, there will be considerable Harry bashing. ;-)
Rachel the Insane Unicorn: High one, then! I'm kinda surprised at how Fawkes is reminding some people of real people. Weird. And slightly disturbing. Glad you like it!
Yay for my reviewers! Two busy-galleons for everyone! Fwahahaha!
-Platy
