Amu4ever thank you very much. Haha looking at past reviews helped me out quite a bit.

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A letter arrived, a week after the incident and Fawkes hatching. Addressed to one 'Harry Potter' and delivered from the Malfoy house elf, it left no thoughts to whom it might have come from. Smudges of ink, and scratched out greetings, ranging from the simple 'Potter' to the uptight formal of 'Heir of House Potter' littered the beginning, a wrinkle here and there gave away the older boy having trouble with letter writing. It warmed Harry's heart nonetheless though when he realized that Draco had not been bluffing in their restart.

Harry Potter,

How are you doing? I'm doing quite well here. Mother has been teaching me more stuff about the Malfoy family, something about 'how to take care of the Familia when I'm older'. It's all rather boring but I try to learn. These would be important in the future right? Father seems rather quiet these days. He's been asking questions about you y'know? Anyways…

The rest had ended in some rambling of what he had done that day. It was simple. It was a start, one that Harry was more than happy to continue to let grow.

'Who knows,' He thought, humming as he opened a drawer pulling out a sheet of parchment and ink bottle. 'Maybe Ron could learn to like him-or at least not spout any bias.' A chirping sound interrupted his thought process and he turned his head to look at the young bird on the desk next to him. Fawkes was already growing his feathers in, a beautiful red, with a strong hint of orange.

Absently, he wondered if the Pheonix had that colour on him before or if this was because of his rebirth. (He has a feeling as to why it was such, but he was hesitant to ask. It would be embarrassing if he was wrong.) Currently the baby bird was enjoying themselves on some fruits and seeds. The occasional chirp of happiness would be heard and it never failed to make the young boy smile.

A squeaky 'ahem' had him turning to see a house elf was standing behind him, Prum, if he recalled. She was the one assigned to take care of the west side of the castle, a part that he currently lived in.

"Messr. Potter, lunch is ready." Harry smiled.

"Mhmkay! I'll be down in a bit. Thank you, Prum." The house-elf smiled before disappearing with a soft click. He put down the feather. He'll respond after lunch. And without much fanfare hopped off his chair, practiced ease hardly disturbed the little immortal on the desk. Though he would have to disturb him, if only to transfer the little immortal to his head.

The bird chirped happily, enjoying both the view and ride as Harry bounded down stairs, twisting through hidden corridors, and laughing wildly as suits of armours played their part of being 'obstacles' for the only child in the castle to jump or slide under. Waving a hello to whatever painting happened to be awake and moving, sneakers skidded to a stop before the large doors that led into the banquet hall. Its doors swung open on its own, having recognized who wanted to go inside.

With a skip inside, he smiled, smelling the wonderful food the elves had made. Easily he picked out the straggling teachers who's homes was the castle much like him. Many were some he actually couldn't recognize, looking much younger than Professor Mcgonagall or Dumbledore. (Then again, nothing looked older than Dumbledore. That's what he thought at least.) Maybe they were new teachers?

Whatever the case, the subject of teachers and new people left him soon enough and he was plopping down eagerly awaiting whatever meal the elves had made for him.

The clinking of glass made itself known as two potions popped into existence and he sighed, scrunching up his nose. He did not like the taste of these. Always bitter or bland. But he sighed, a mug of apple juice appearing next to the glass. He shrugged to himself before grabbing the first one, pulling the cork off with little difficulty and downing the contents of the small bottle. He pouted, swallowing and immediately repeating it one more time.

With a disgusted sigh he grabbed for the mug, swallowing the juice to wash away the strong bitter taste. He stuck his tongue out, expressing his displeasure to no one in particular. Nasty.

But soon that was over and he was happily digging into his food. Bacon, eggs and muffins. Simple but good for him. He almost didn't notice the tiny bird flaming on top of his head.

The stragglers barely blinked at this, probably too tired to notice or maybe never noticed in the first place. Iggy chirped, happy in its spot amongst the nest of hair.

Once done he hummed, piling his empty plates and taking a final sip of apple juice.

"Thank you very much mister House Elves," he said, cleaning himself up before going off to explore the castle. I mean, what else was he going to do? Fly on his broom? Sure, why not. That sounded much better. He turned around, trotting along and quickly grabbing the broom that had poofed into existence against the wall.

Flying in the hallways? Yes.

A child's laughter could be heard echoing through the halls of Hogwarts. Those that heard only smiled, some a bit confused but spirits lifted at the sound of happiness.

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A/N: Overall, I'd say this is a warm up. Here's saying I'll be able to get it going soon yes? Also yes I'm alive. Sorry bout the silence.