The owl was sitting on the stone windowpane staring out over the mountain with its large amber eyes. Night was falling and she was ardently searching for any sign of small movement that would indicate a small animal roaming in the distance.
She swivelled her head around quickly at the sound of arguing voices reaching the cold room. As the two voices grew louder, the owl shuffled to the side of the window to hide herself as much as possible. She did not feel like delivering any post when she could be happily hunting for dinner.
Her body was carefully hidden behind a beam on the ceiling and she peered around it to see the two newcomers. The two boys stopped arguing when another that was slightly taller and a bit more gangly, but shared the same hair as the two boys, joined them. They stared at each other for a few moment before the other boy left them alone.
The owl pushed herself up as close to the wall as she possibly could out of renowned fear of having to deliver a letter, having skipped last night‘s meal in order to deliver a letter. The two boys stopped simultaneously and looked around the rafters in search of an owl worthy of this trip.
The owl was staring intently at the boys when she was rudely clipped by the wing of another owl that was flying out of the room. Wings flailing and feathers flying, the owl fell unceremoniously off of her safe perch atop the window pane and landed with a thud on the floor in front of the two boys.
The boys looked at each other with wicked grins said, “Looks like this one is eager for the job.” Bending down together they attached the heavy parchment to one of the owl’s legs and stood up. “Take this to Ludo Bagman, and kindly wait for a reply. If he takes to long for your liking, do feel free to nip at his knuckles a bit.”
The boys walked, head held high, out of the room, leaving the owl on the floor to regain its composure. She stood up and ruffled her feathers to recover from the fall. Glaring at the door from which the boys had just exited, she flew out of one of the small windows and clicked her beak angrily at the unfortunate luck.
As the owl soared, wings spread wide, over the mountain and lakes, she searched hungrily for the food that she so desperately wanted. Flying low over the trees, the owl looked hungrily for her night’s meal.
Suddenly, and with amazing agility, the owl dove straight through a clump of thin, dark trees, and shot back up into the air seconds later, a small mouse clasped in her beak. Pleased with having found dinner so quickly, the owl flew on with renewed speed.
As the owl’s trip continued, the sun was sinking lower behind the mountains, until it completely vanished from her sight. The owl soared for hours over small towns and mountains, rolling hills and lakes until the sun began to peak over the horizon, and a large city was coming into view. She pushed for speed as she knew her destination was growing closer and closer.
Flying around the outskirts of the tall buildings, the owl came upon a small, quaint village. She found the house she was looking for at the end of the street. It was a small house that showed no signs of any magic, other than a knobbly broomstick and a large, red ball, which were leaned up against the wall of the front porch. A short note written in thick letters was tying them together.
Looking for an entry, the owl flew around the house and searched for open windows or doors. When the owl found no way to go into the house, she sat atop the highest branch of a small tree across the street that had a clear view of the front door, and waited for the owner to appear.
Within minutes, a slightly round man with blonde hair came shuffling out of his front door, clad in a robe and slippers, in search of something. Taking her opportunity, the owl unwrapped her claws from the branch, and soared through the front door as the man was bending over to pick up the broom and Quaffle. She flew through the entry hall and into a small kitchen, and waited. Holding the broom in one hand, Quaffle in the other, the man came padding into the kitchen staring at the objects with a questioning expression.
When the man looked up, he jumped backward at the sight of the animal, and in the process he dropped the two things he was carrying. The owl expectantly put her leg holding the letter out for the man to take. He cautiously picked up the items and set them on the table before hastily untying the message from the owl’s leg. The man carefully unfolded the yellowing parchment and went pale as he read its contents. He practically threw the heavy parchment back onto the table and walked quickly out of the room. The owl did as he was told and took off to follow after him. He flapped his wings and flew back and forth, smacking the man in the face each time.
“I’m not giving a reply, no need to stay around,” the man announced roughly after the owl had gone through her pattern a few times. In return, the owl glared at the man and shot of in the direction of the kitchen to take her place on the back of an old, wooden chair again. She looked around in an attempt to find a way to make the man hurry with his reply so that she could get back to her comfortable nest.
The owl scanned the room until the feathery end of a fluffy, white quill caught her eye. She flew over to the quill and snatched it up with his beak before returning to the letter that had been thrown haphazardly onto the table and grabbed it with her claw.
She continued through the open door of the kitchen in search of the stubborn man. When she found him in his room dressing himself, the owl landed atop the mirrored armoire door that the man was looking at himself in. She dropped the quill on the floor in front the man before clicking her beak expectantly.
The man glared up at the owl with reproach and bent over to grab the quill. The owl then flew down and dropped the letter in front of the man, conveniently clipped his head with her wing, and left the room to return to her spot in the kitchen.
The man returned downstairs in a few minutes, a ripped piece of parchment held in his hand, and a look of utmost fury on his face. He fumbled with the tie on the owl’s leg before righting himself, flattening his hair with his hand, and turning to leave. The owl took off and flew out the door after the man.
The long journey back to her home was long and wet. The wind jerked the owl through the air, and the rain ruthlessly drove itself into the owl’s eyes and feathers, weighing her down as he continued on.
The sky became an angry grey as the owl steered itself back toward the hands of the two boys who had unfortunately given it that letter. When the owl finally flew over the last group of mountains, she rested gratefully in her own comforting nest.
The next morning, when the owls normally delivered their letters to the students, the owl gathered with them and flew through the high window, down into the room. She easily located the matching sets of red hair, and flew directly at them. It landed and stuck out her leg, head turned away, and awaited for its removal.
Once she felt the weight of the wet parchment leave her leg, she took a thankful gulp from a glass of pumpkin juice, and made sure to bite each boy on the finger, hard.
She waited as the boys read the short letter, and flew off in a hurry when the boys let out cries of frustration. She had done what she could.