Jon Hart, however, had no idea that far away in Cokeworth, the newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts had already managed to completely bamboozle one of his students' parents.
Jon himself was now facing a minor predicament.
The root of the trouble lay with that Phoenix—just two days old... no, reborn from the flames two days ago.
Bending down to kneel in front of the hearth, Jon spoke earnestly, "Fawkes, you're a mature Phoenix now. You should learn to fly on your own to find Dumbledore!"
The plump little bird on the floor briefly paused her meal to lift her head, flapping her still half-feathered wings a few times to show she couldn't fly, then promptly lowered her head and kept eating.
Indeed, Fawkes now looked very much like a ball of meat; she hadn't grown many feathers yet, but her size had increased several times over. From a distance, she looked like a plucked turkey—a very overfed one.
Jon finally understood why Albus Dumbledore would never let this stupid bird eat her fill—she just ate far too much, and never seemed to stop.
At first, Jon hadn't thought much of it. He simply tossed a ten-pound bag of herbs down beside the fireplace, thinking that much would surely last her ten days or even half a month.
But when he saw the empty bag only half a day later, Jon just froze on the spot.
Once she'd had a taste, Fawkes naturally refused to let it go... She clung to Jon at all hours, begging him to feed her, occasionally letting out those pitiful "woo-woo-woo" cries that could melt anyone's heart.
More importantly, if you didn't feed Fawkes until she was full, you could forget about getting any rest.
A Phoenix's song stirred courage and excitement... Once Fawkes got hungry, she would start singing to him in the middle of the night. With his adrenaline surging and courage overflowing, Jon simply couldn't fall asleep.
With no other choice, Jon had to run to the herb shop again and haul back several heavy sacks of herbs. After stuffing them in front of Fawkes to keep her beak occupied, Jon finally won back his freedom.
The only drawback was that in just two days, Fawkes had eaten herself into a ball of meat.
"It's not my Phoenix anyway!" Jon muttered under his breath. "I'm only looking after you for a few days. Once you can fly, I'm throwing you back to Dumbledore and letting him cry over a blob of flesh!"
...
The Daily Prophet still carried no major news; it was just that no more Death Eaters had been captured in the past two days.
Lying bored on his bed, Jon toyed idly with his wand. Suddenly, inspiration struck, and he gave it a light flick.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Silver threads shot from the wand tip, eventually coalescing into the shape of a small Panda Patronus. It looked a size larger than the last time Jon had seen it, its black and white fur now more sharply defined.
It pouted at Jon in clear displeasure, as if demanding to know why he had taken so long to let it out again.
Jon reached out and gently stroked the little panda's paw—
But soon, the Panda abandoned him. Clearly, it had discovered another magical creature in the room.
It shot toward the Phoenix, who was still feasting heartily in front of the fireplace.
"Wait!" Jon hurriedly waved his wand, signaling the Panda Patronus to come back.
But it was no use. He couldn't control a Patronus like a puppet; he could only give it instructions. Whether it chose to obey was entirely up to the Patronus itself.
...
Fawkes, still eating, quickly sensed that something was wrong.
Something seemed to be approaching her...
Fawkes spun around at once, shielding the unfinished bag of herbs behind her with her body, and stared at the magical creature glaring at her.
The Phoenix waved her claws at the Panda, as if demanding, "What are you, and how did you end up here?"
The Panda lowered its head, all four paws planted firmly on the floor, assuming a stance as if it were about to charge at the Phoenix. At the same time, it seemed to retort, "What are you, and why are you at my master's side?"
The two XXXX-class Magical Creatures thus squared off by the fireplace.
"Kreee—" The Phoenix was the first to let out a warning cry.
"Awoo—" The Panda replied with a low, unyielding roar.
"Kreee—"
"Awoo—"
"Kreee—"
"Awoo—"
...
The two XXXX-class Magical Creatures were like two children who wanted to fight but didn't quite dare. One shouted, "Come over here if you've got the guts!" and the other yelled back, "You come over here if you've got the guts!" After trading taunts for ages, neither was willing to take a single step forward.
"Enough!" Jon couldn't stand it anymore. He shouted, cutting off the Phoenix and the Panda's "battle."
"If you dare make that weird noise again... believe it or not—believe it or not, I'll boil you into a pot of medicinal Phoenix stew!" he yelled, jabbing his finger at Fawkes' beak.
Fawkes merely glanced at Jon without a care, as if saying, Go on, boil me. I'm ready for my herbal bath.
With a sharp "snap," Jon set the silver regular octahedron down in front of Fawkes, letting out a cold snort.
Fawkes glanced at the little box, and a flicker of apprehension crossed her face. Fiendfyre, though also a kind of flame, could indeed harm a Phoenix. She wasn't afraid of dying—but if she died and had to be reborn again, wouldn't everything she'd eaten these past few days go to waste?
Fawkes quickly lowered her head, no longer daring to meet Jon's eyes.
"As for you... if you dare disobey me again, believe it or not—believe it or not, I'll change my Patronus!" Jon then pointed at the little Panda and barked.
The Panda's expression changed at once, horrified. He dropped onto his backside in a hurry, letting out a pitiful series of whimpers.
...
The room finally fell quiet, but then a knock sounded at the door.
"Sir, what was that noise coming from your room just now?" Old Tom Abbott called slowly from outside.
"Nothing, just practicing magic!" Jon answered as he pulled on his black robes and walked over to open the door.
Old Tom handed over a soft, white bundle. "An owl came looking for you. It seems to have brought you a letter!"
"Alright, thanks!"
Closing the door again, he untied the letter from the owl's talons.
Then the snow-white owl "Jorglin" cheerfully took off from Jon's hand.
She circled Jon happily several times, cooing "coo, coo, coo."
Suddenly, Jorglin sensed that something in the room was off.
She turned, trembling, and looked toward the fireplace...
Four dark, hostile eyes were glaring right back at her.
Under the oppressive aura of the two Magical Creatures, the poor owl felt everything go dark and fainted on the spot.
Then she dropped out of the air in a neat parabolic arc.