Disclaimer: This Fanfiction was made with the same equipment as a fruitcake.
Jamesley was pretty sure that if he looked up the word "chaos" in the dictionary, it would be a picture of the Hogwarts kitchen.
Actually, scratch that. If a picture dictionary existed, and one that had pictures of the magical world as well, and Jamesley owned a copy of that book, then he could probably find a picture of the Hogwarts kitchen under "chaos".
Regardless, such a dictionary probably doesn't exist, and Jamesley, being a fruitcake, certainly didn't own a copy. Thus, you'll just have to imagine that he does.
The three of them appeared in the Hogwarts kitchen with a burst of fire that completely terrified the House Elves that were the closest to their arrival point. Which, considering Fawkes had managed to have them arrive directly in the middle of the food preparation table, was quite a lot of them. The scene was so utterly filled with tools, elves, and food, that Jamesley briefly considered trying to make a list, before realising that if he did, he would be here forever.
"Augh!" cried one House Elf, named Malty, who was so startled by their arrival that he reflexively threw the dish he was working on at Fawkes.
Using his Sugar Sense, a psychic sensing energy honed through decades of insane sugar consumption, Fawkes was able to quickly detect the sugarlessness of this dish, and thus destroyed it with a burst of fire.
"Man, what's up with chucking foodstuffs at me? That was so unsugary that it made my Sugar Sense try to kill itself," said Fawkes unhappily, landing in the middle of the table and dropping the Sorting Hat and Jamesley before landing a bit unsteadily himself.
The Sorting Hat bowed apologetically to the distraught House Elf. "I am greatly sorry for my companion's behavior," he said. "I hope that we have not disrupted your cooking too much."
Malty stood there in shock and horror for a few moments, mourning the loss of his dish. Behind him, all of the other House Elves in the kitchen burst into cheers.
"Oh thank Merlin!" cried one. "It has at long last been destroyed!" cried another. "Guys, don't be rude to Malty," said one, but he was quickly ignored.
One particularly happy House Elf came over to Fawkes to shake his hand- er, wing. "Oh great Phoenix, Bringer of Flames and Destroyer of Malty's Cooking, ask for anything and we shall give it to you."
Jamesley looked troubled, or at least, looked as troubled as a fruitcake can look. This pretty much translated to some of his fruits and nuts twisting uncomfortably. 'Um, Hat? Could you ask them why they're so happy about this Malty's cooking being destroyed?'
The Sorting Hat nodded, then spoke out loud. "My friend here would like to know why you are all so happy about this," he said.
One scrawny looking House Elf stepped forwards nervously. "Um, you see, great Sorting Hat, the problem here is, well you see, Malty, who is that House Elf over there, Malty is, well…"
A much larger House Elf interrupted him. "Malty's cooking sucks," he said, flatly.
Malty looked at the big House Elf, offended. "My cooking does not 'suck', it is simply far to sophisticated for a droll such as yourself to understand! Like all avant garde artists, my work is misunderstood by the ignorant masses."
The House Elf chuckled. "No, we understand 'Year-Aged Dried Horseradish-Cheese' just fine."
Now, before you begin to feel bad for Malty, it must be established that his cooking really does suck. While some, such as Malty himself, would argue that taste is subjective, the suckiness of Malty's cooking is certainly not a matter of opinion, unless one finds dying of poison, and nasty tasting poison at that, enjoyable. Even if they did, they likely wouldn't last long enough to tell anybody about how delicious they found the food. It is really only through Malty's continued insistence that he can cook, and the efforts of the other Elves to destroy the cooking before it can reach the Hogwarts tables, that Malty continues to work in the kitchens.
Currently, though, Fawkes decided that he'd had quite enough of this last paragraph. "Hey, don't I get my request, dudes and dudettes?"
The various House Elves all turned to him, and the one from earlier immediately threw himself at Fawkes' feet (or rather, talons). "Oh great Feller of Foul Food, Destroyer of Disgusting Dishes, Razer of Rancid Rations, Annihilator of Abhorrent Aliments, Smusher of Sicky Stuff, yadda yadda yadda, ask and you shall receive!"
Fawkes got a silly grin on his face, and he smirked at the Sorting Hat superiorly. "Looks like I don't need your help anymore, Hatty. Gimme all the sugar you got!" he demanded.
The collected House Elves gasped. "Anything but that!" said one elf, who had turned white as a sheet and was shaking like a washing machine that had been set to high while it had a brick in it.
The Sorting Hat actually raised a fold in its fabric that resembled an eyebrow at that. "What is the problem?" he asked inquisitively.
The House Elf was too nervous to speak, so the large House Elf from earlier took over. "All our sugar was stolen a few days ago, by a Kitchen Gremlin" he said gruffly. "The Gremlin took all the sugar bags and ran off with them to his lair in the deepest levels of the kitchen. He's been holding the sugar hostage, and demanding that we bake him giant cakes in return for the sugar. This extra work, in addition to the normal Hogwarts load, means that us Kitchen Elves have been getting almost no sleep."
The House Elf looked sorrowfully at his companions, who, Jamesley just noticed, seemed very weary and tired, almost to the point of falling asleep on their feet. Jamesley felt so bad for them, that he almost didn't notice when he started talking to the Sorting Hat.
'Tell them that we'll get the sugar back for them,' he said, his voice firm and determined.
The Sorting Hat regarded him with surprise, but nodded. "Elves," he said loudly, "We will recover your lost sugar for you." Fawkes seemed about to object, but when he remembered what was on the line, he merely nodded in agreement.
The Elves' relief and thankfulness was apparent, especially as some began to fall to their knees and thank them. The Sorting Hat nodded to Fawkes, and the Phoenix flew over and picked the two of them up again.
Suddenly the big House Elf stepped forwards again. "We thank you so much for this, but I worry that you may not know the way. The Hogwarts Kitchens are complex and dangerous, and those not sufficiently well versed in its corridors may find themselves lost in its twisting corridors."
The Sorting Hat nodded. "Thank you for warning us of this. I understand that the journey will be very dangerous, and possibly wrought with peril, but could one of you accompany us to guide us?"
The room fell into silence, as every House Elf in the room turned to look at Malty.
A/N: House Elves! They make food and stuff.
Personally, I think Malty's food tastes awesome. By which I mean the taste is so bad that it inspires awe. The fact that I had to build up a resistance to all forms of poison before being able to taste enough to tell you that only adds to the awe.
Pixel and Stephanie Forever: I don't know yet, but it's likely that Jamesley will attend Hogwarts at some point, probably along with Harry. Keep in mind, though, that within the story it's still November 1st, 1981. That is, the day after Voldemort's death. If the story continues at this rate, it'll be at least 18,250 chapters before the start of Book 1. And I don't think FanFiction will allow that many chapters.