Through Errol's Eyes


Disclaimer: all characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing, I am just borrowing.

I am Errol, Weasley owl and letter-deliverer extraordinaire at your service. This is my story seen through the eyes of those who know better.

I flew through the dusky evening air, not as fast or as agile as I would have done in my youth, maybe, but still faster than the mouse I quickly descended upon. Well, almost faster, I thought dully, as the creature scampered lightly to one side and I collided with the ground. My right wing throbbed and I'd hurt one of my talons. I felt like crying, but, of course, owls can't cry -- humans don't know how lucky they are to be able to rid themselves of their pain in that way instead of having it throb and ache and eat away at them like a cancer.

I was in physical pain, but that wasn't the real source of my sadness. A year ago, heck, six months ago, I'd have easily readjusted my angle and snatched the mouse up with lightning agility. Old age was fast approaching and I felt insignificant and tiny, helpless to stop it as it ate away at me and reduced me to a shadow of my former self. I was caught in the irresistible swell of a tidal wave falling upon me as I had fallen upon my many previous victims. Cruel irony.

I opened my creaky, tired, old wings and allowed a gentle breeze to lift me from the ground. I flew back home trying to tell myself that I wasn't that hungry anyway; That I couldn't be bothered to hunt, that's all, but I still could if I wanted to; That I was having an off day; That there was no shame in begging the humans for an owl treat.

I swept in through the window and landed heavily on my perch. I tried to make it seem like no big deal, but the truth was that I kept on missing it more and more often these days. I feared that it wouldn't be long before I couldn't land on it at all.

" Bloody bird, " Ron muttered, casting an annoyed look in my direction. He thinks that I'm another example of how poor his family is, which hurt me so deeply -- didn't he think that my uselessness burned me a thousand times more painful than it did him. I would be glad when he left for Hogwarts in a week's time. He would be starting first year and I could see that he was extremely worried. His family probably didn't notice but owl eyes are very, very good, even failing ones like mine.

" I'll miss you so much when you'll be at Hogwarts, " Ginny said regretfully, toying with her food. " Especially now that Charlie's been accepted in Romania and is leaving tomorrow -- I'll be all alone. " I would have snorted if I could; if I could speak I could tell her a thing or two about being alone. I was personally glad to see him go. Even the "animal lover " of the family had deigned to call me a dusty, old feather brush, now that I'd become more of a liability than a letter deliverer. The hypocrisy made me sick.

" Ah, don't worry, Gin, " Fred said affectionately. " You'll be old enough to join us in no time ... and then Hogwarts better watch its back, " he said eyes glittering.

" ... you can join Fred and me in our dastardly deeds, " George added with an identical look of anticipation.

"...we'll scour the corridors at night, "

"...bewitch and bemuse the students, "

"...and teachers, "

"...of our fair school. "

"...Percy's never been interested in joining, "

"...and I doubt Ron'll be much use. "

" Hey, " Ron cried, indignantly. He seemed hurt at the twins' dismissal of his use, but Percy remained impassive. Years of being constantly tortured and tormented by the rest of the family had taught him not to show any weakness. But I knew it was just a facade; I could sometimes hear him cry himself quietly to sleep as I flew by at night.

I felt truly sorry for Percy, and liked him because feeling sorry for him often stopped me from feeling sorry for myself; or it alleviated my self-pity at any rate. The rest of them didn't appreciate him at all. I knew that he wasn't ambitious by nature, but years of being the weakest, the least popular, the outcast had made him strive to be better, to be worth something, anything. It saddened me to think that this kind soul believed that he needed to be a prefect, to end up having a good, responsible job, to earn lots of money to have any self-worth.

" I don't want you to lead your sister astray, or Ron either, " Mrs Weasley said severely. " It's bad enough that you're leading yourselves into trouble, I don't want you giving them any ideas. " I turned my head away from the table in disgust; she cared far too much about respectability, responsibility, a good name and the rest of the empty demands of society.

I suppose it was her attitude, more than anything else, that led Percy to believe that if he became a prefect that he'd be loved and accepted within the family. It didn't matter to anyone but his mother though; Mrs Weasley had seen him in a new light but the rest had ignored or teased him just as before, if anything they were worse. Even Percy's father ridiculed and never seemed to quite accept him. He laughed along with the twins' jokes, something to be expected from a brother, but a father. No wonder Percy had an inferiority complex. But still, I knew that he would never stop trying to be better and better, hoping that someday he'd be good enough for them. I feared this need to fit in with them would slowly contort itself into a ruthless ambition. And I knew the Weasleys would accept no blame for this, but disown him cruelly, unaware that it would be entirely their fault.

" Don't worry little, baby Ronnie will be quite safe in our care, " George laughed, and winked at his younger brother.

" Besides Percy'll be watching him from dusk until dawn, he doesn't have a life of his own, " Fred cackled. The rest of the family tittered appreciatively. Percy, as always, ignored it, surviving the constant mocking comments by pretending it hadn't been made; he wasn't being dignified, as it might seem, he was protecting himself.

" But Hogwarts is good, though, " Ron said hopefully.

" It's wonderful, " Percy reassured. " The classes are fascinating and you learn so much, like before we were practising the Malfarus Charm and Professor Flitwick told us how - "

" Oh shut up, Perce, we don't need to hear you talking, " Charlie said, stretching lazily. I could see the hurt that Percy pushed to the back of his eyes but no one else could - like I said, owl eyes are very, very good.

" Ooooh, don't mess with the prefect, " Fred smirked, his voice weighted with sarcasm.

" Yes, Percy is a prefect, " Mrs Weasley beamed, smiling indulgently at her third son. Percy smiled back trying to act pleased, but I knew it wasn't enough. As well as being proud of him for what he did, he wanted her to like him for who he was. I could empathise. I'd been liked well enough for what I did -- flapped halfway across the country on a regular basis, when it would have been so much easier to apparate and deliver the letter themselves -- but once I couldn't do that very well anymore it became apparent that that's how deep their affection had ever gone.

Mr Weasley rose from his chair, stretched and left the room. The meal was over. They left the table one by one and it was only after they had gone that I realised they'd forgotten to give me an owl treat. I would have to make a successful hunt tonight.

I opened my wings again even though they were tired and heavy, and forced myself to flap through the open window. Thankfully there was a strong gust just outside and I floated as silent as a ghost higher and higher into the air. I flew until I could no longer see the burrow; no longer see Ron cast his regretful glance around his room and wallow in the self-pity of being poor; no longer see Charlie flip once more through a dusty copy of his dragon book, claiming to love all animals; no longer see the twins dream their identical dreams, unaware that they did not live in a bubble of themselves and their actions held consequences and hurt others; no longer see Molly the annoying, patronising hypocrite and Arthur the obsessive fruitcake who chastised others for treating muggles badly while simultaneously going out to treat them like an exotic new species under his microscope; no longer see Ginny the dithering nitwit; no longer see Percy cry himself into sad, lonely dreams because his family hated him.