Disclaimer: Winners don't do fruitcakes.
Jamesley suddenly felt that something was wrong.
He wasn't quite sure how to describe it, but somehow he had a vague feeling of wrongness about him, somehow concentrated at his top side. Jamesley tried running a quick diagnosis, but soon discovered that he had no idea how the physiology of a fruitcake worked, and so decided instead to try looking around him for the source of this wrongness.
Very quickly, he discovered the source to be the golden bird from before, which was now pecking at him.
'Agh! Gerroff you bird!' he cried, or at least tried to cry, towards the bird. However, due to his lack of a mouth, he was unable to make any sound to deter the bird.
The Sorting Hat, however, was not so restricted. "Oy, you lousy sack of feathers," it said, vocalising this using a slit near its brim. "Stop that! That fruitcake's alive!"
The Phoenix looked up from its pecking to look at the Sorting Hat oddly. "Whoa man," it squawked from its beak, "it's a talking hat."
The Sorting Hat groaned, a sound that caused its brim to vibrate slightly. "Merlin, Fawkes. Have you been at the sugar again?"
Now, one thing you must understand about Phoenixes is that to them, sugar is more than just a sweet powder that is added to dough or slapped out of the hands of small children. You see, Phoenixes emanate fire all the time, and doing so takes an awful lot of energy and puts them under a great deal of stress, much like an overworked office worker or a college student with a test due the next day. And like the office worker or college student, Phoenixes learned to turn to various substances to alleviate this stress. Chief amongst these substances is sugar, as the crystals provide sufficient energy to power the Phoenix's combustion. The consumption of sugar takes the strain off of the Phoenixes, allowing them to drop into a more relaxed state. Thus, sugar is practically essential for the Phoenix body, and is desired by them more than anything.
Jamesley, however, knew none of this. Thus, is it perfectly acceptable for you to laugh when he asks the Sorting Hat, 'What's all this about sugar?'
Ha ha, you might say, I know something that he does not! How ironic! At this point, however, you must remember that Jamesley also knows a great many things that you do not, such how it feels to be a fruitcake, or the true meaning of human existence. However, I suggest we move on from all this finger pointing about who knows what, or how they know it, and bring ourselves back to the story at hand.
'What's all this about sugar?' asked Jamesley, quite confused by this statement (as has been previously established).
The Sorting Hat grumbled, and told Jamesley that he would explain it to him later. Then, the hat turned back to the flaming bird. "Fawkes, don't eat that fruitcake. That's my new friend Jamesley."
"Oh," said Fawkes. As confused as the bird was by this turn of events, it still knew that friends were not for eating. That old habit had been trained out of him by the Headmaster after the third gerbil had disappeared. Still, old habits died hard. "Couldn't I just have a bit of a nibble?" he asked pleadingly.
The Sorting Hat's mouth slit bent into a frown. "No Fawkes, you may not even have a nibble. If you want sugar so badly, why don't you go bug the house elves?"
Fawkes threw his head back and groaned. "Man, I wish I could. Ol' Dumbie told 'em not to give me any more sugars though. Said it was gonna make me fat." The Phoenix straightened back up, muttering a few choice words about what he thought of Dumbledore's opinion.
"Well you're certainly not eating Jamesley," said the Sorting Hat. "Why don't I explain to old Dumbles that you need the sugar? Then you'll be able to have all the sugar you want."
Fawkes perked up at this. "You'd do that for me man? Thanks loads!" Then the bird hesitated. "Wait, but you can't ask Dumbie until he gets back, and that might be hours. I don't think I can last that long, man." He began to jump from foot to foot impatiently, as if the simple occurrence of this thought made it suddenly that much more unbearable for him to wait.
The Sorting Hat somehow rolled its eyes (despite not having eyeballs). "Alright Fawkes, how about this. Why don't you pick me up and Flash to the kitchens with me. Then, I'll tell the House Elves about your little situation, and you bring me back here. Then, you get all the sugar you want, and you don't have to bother Jamesley and I anymore. Are you happy with that plan?"
Fawkes was evidently extremely happy with that plan, so much so that he tried to give the Sorting Hat a hug, forgetting that burning birds and leather hats don't generally mix very well. The Sorting Hat was luckily able to prevent its own demise, and soon Fawkes was instead preparing to Flash both himself and his passenger off.
Suddenly Jamesley spoke up. 'Hey, Sorting Hat. I don't suppose I could come along with you two to the kitchens, could I?'
The Sorting Hat raised an eyebrow, but still signaled to Fawkes to wait. 'You want to go to the kitchens? Are you sure about that, Jamesley? What if you're mistaken for a simple foodstuff, or chopped up by some House Elf?'
But Jamesley was as determined as he was sugar filled. 'Even though I just came into existence not long ago, I already know that I won't be content to spend my entire life just sitting here on this shelf. I want to go out and do things, maybe have adventures, and this sounds exactly like the start of an adventure.'
The hat shrugged, raising and lowering its brim slightly. 'Well, I suppose that's fair.' "Fawkes!" he called out loud, "Looks like you have another passenger. Bring Jamesley along as well, and no mid-flight snacking!" The bird's mischievous grin that had appeared when the hat mentioned bringing Jamesley suddenly disappeared, and Fawkes grumbled a bit, annoyed, as he picked the two of them up.
The group of three rose a few centimeters before disappearing in a flash of light. Thus began the Adventure of Sugary Kitchens.
A/N: Yay! Adventures!
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