The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

38. Mr Brightside

By the time Sloane had folded the letter carefully and slid it into an envelope, her anger had dulled into something heavier.

Sadness, maybe. Or exhaustion. Probably both.

She addressed the front neatly before hesitating briefly. Then, after a moment's thought, she reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out the little bluebell she had picked on the walk across the grounds.

It was slightly wind-beaten now. Still pretty though.

Carefully, she slipped it beneath the string sealing the envelope. Joanna would understand. The flower had become something of a tradition between them over the years. Whenever Sloane felt overwhelmed or homesick or frightened growing up, Joanna would leave little flowers on her bedside table without explanation.

A silent reminder that someone loved her.

The memory made her chest ache painfully.

Before she could spiral further into her thoughts, footsteps echoed from the staircase leading into the Owlery. Sloane sighed heavily.

Of course someone had followed her.

Quickly wiping beneath her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan, she straightened herself just as a beautiful brown owl with white spots swooped gracefully through the open window and landed beside her on the ledge.

It wore a small Hogwarts tag around its leg. School owl.

Sloane smiled softly despite herself and stroked its feathers gently. "Feel up for a delivery?" she asked quietly. The owl hooted proudly and puffed its chest out. "Excellent." Sloane laughed faintly. "Very professional of you."

The owl clicked its beak impatiently. "Alright, alright." She tied the letter carefully to the bird's outstretched leg before smoothing its feathers once more. "Take your time," she murmured softly. "I'm in no hurry for an answer."

The owl tilted its head at her.

Then, surprisingly gently, it leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek. Sloane blinked. The bird hooted once more before launching itself back into the cold morning air, wings stretching wide as it disappeared across the grounds.

"Did that bird just kiss you?" Sloane turned sharply at the voice.

A tall boy with messy brown hair stood leaning against the small stationery desk near the entrance, grinning lazily at her.

Theo Nott.

Beside him stood Pansy Parkinson, who looked significantly less amused to be there.

"Uh..." Sloane touched her cheek awkwardly. "Yeah, I think it did."

"Gross," Pansy said immediately, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"On the cheek, obviously, Pans." Theo rolled his eyes dramatically before wandering further into the Owlery. "Though honestly, who knows."

Pansy gagged theatrically. Theo ignored her completely.

"You must either be a bird whisperer or a very lovable person," he continued conversationally, folding his arms against the ledge opposite Sloane. "I heard owls can sense personality."

"Well if that's true, you must terrify them," Pansy muttered.

Theo gasped in mock offence. "I'll have you know animals adore me."

As if the universe itself wished to humble him—

An owl suddenly swooped overhead. Then promptly relieved itself directly onto Pansy's shoulder.