They Hate Harry Potter

Chapter One: Owls

Bex had seen many owls in her life. They were nocturnal animals after all, just like her. 

Her father was a hunter, and every night, the two of them would go out into the woods that they lived in and hunt for food. Her father would do most of the shooting, chasing and staking, while Bex did more of the gathering, digging, and picking. By time dawn came, the collective efforts of the duo brought on a nice spread of meat and berries. Then, they would go home to their little wooden cabin on the outskirts of the woods, and watch as the sun rose, while they ate their early breakfast. 

There would be a lot of owls out then. They flew through the trees, dipping and diving and letting out soft hoots to the night sky. "Look, Bex!" Her father would whisper-yell whenever he saw one. "It's the Blue Jays of the dark!"

She always wondered why they only came out at night. And one day, she asked her father about it. They were sat outside of their cabin, in those little wicker chairs that Bex's father had built himself, eating berries that they had recently gathered that morning. After her question, he turned to her, his bright smile visible even in the dim light of the early sun. "I'm sure that they will come in the day. When they're ready. Or, I should say, when you're ready." 

For the longest time, Bex pondered what he meant by that. 

Her father was always rather aloof, a very ambiguous man that most couldn't understand. No one could. His parents, who sent letters every other week, begging him to come visit, bring their granddaughter over for once, never knew why he always refused. They hadn't seen their son in years, all they wanted was a relationship with him. His friends wondered why he stopped reaching out, ever since he had that little daughter named Bexley. Even Bex herself, as she aged, started to wonder, but he never gave her a straightforward answer. 

So how should now have been any different? Her father was always going to be that man. The man that lived in a cabin in the woods, hunting and gathering for food, never remarrying after the tragic and sudden death of his wife, homeschooling his daughter by himself. So, Bex forgot about it. The owls and their many mysteries were a mere background thought, something for Bex to muse over late at night as she tried to fall asleep, but nothing of importance.

Until the day came. Just as her father said, when she was ready. 

It was a normal, hot summer day in mid July for Bex. She was excited, because her eleventh birthday was very soon, on the twenty first of the month, exactly a week from then. She lay in the grass outside of her home cabin, arms folded behind her head, staring up at the sky, watching the clouds and imagining what they could be. A duck, perhaps? A frog? 

She was bored, but her father had sent her outside while he worked inside the cabin. Since he never left those woods, he was everything for them. The doctor, the chef, the hunter, the teacher, and, at that particular moment, the handyman. He needed the energetic ten year old out of the way while he fixed up the hole in the roof, brought on by a recent bad storm. It was true that the man never slept, he woke up early to hunt, made breakfast, and then immediately got to work on the roof. 

So, she was stuck, picking up grass, watching the clouds, and fantasizing about her birthday. would her father risk his yearly trip into town to get the ingredients to bake Bex a cake? She hoped he would. She loved that yearly trip into town, seeing all of those other people. Other children her age. She hoped that one day on her birthday, her father would let her spend the entire day out there, but until then, she was content with a mere hour of sight seeing.

From the inside, she could hear pounding, a steady rhythm caused by her father hitting his tools against the nails on the roof. It lulled her into peace, and for a short while, she found herself almost falling asleep to the hard taps against wood. 

But, just as her eyelids were slowly falling shut, she saw it. 

She sat up abruptly, rubbing her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing things. But yes, it was exactly as she had thought, clear as day. An owl. An owl was flying through the sky, even though the sun was out and shining brightly. How was that possible? 

She stood, craning her neck to get a better look at the peculiar sight. The owl was still fairly far away, but she could just make out the features of the bird. It was a brown barn owl, its large wings spread wide as it flew. Bex knew she must've imagined it, but she could've sworn that the owl was flying straight towards her. But...that couldn't have been. that made no sense. Then again, an owl out in broad daylight didn't make much sense either.  

Suddenly, she realized her father would've loved to see this. The memory of their conversation about owls popped into her mind, and she turned, running into the cabin to go get him. 

"Dad!" Bex called as she rushed into the cozy living room. In the center, stood on the top of a ladder, hammer in hand, was Bex's father, the top of his head hitting a soft patch in the ceiling that he had just patched as he looked down at his daughter, an easy-going smile plastered on his face. 

"Bex, I know you're bored, sweetie, but you can't keep faking a Bigfoot sighting just to get my attention." He told her gently. 

She crossed her arms over her chest, rolling her eyes. "Dad! I only did that once! Anyway---I'm not here for that, it's something even more weird!" 

He raised an eyebrow, carefully climbing down from the ladder. "Weird? I like weird." He reached the floor coming over to Bex. "What's up?" 

"There's an owl, Dad! An actual owl---outside, right now! In the daytime!" Exclaimed Bex.

She expected her father to be, surprised, perhaps excited by this astounding phenomenon. Instead, his face contorted into an expression of pure worry. His easy-going smile was replaced by an apprehensive frown. His eyes gleaned not with amusement, but with anxiety. He looked down at her, and the tone was suddenly serious. "You're not joking...are you, sweetie?" 

Bex frowned, confused as to why her father was so suddenly troubled. "No, I'm not. Are you alright, Dad?" She searched his face for some kind of answer as to why he was scared. 

Before he could respond, there was a knock...at the window. Three short raps. 

Both of them turned to the window, startled by the sound. Still, they both had very different reactions to the sight they saw. At the window, perched on the sill, was the same brown barn owl that Bex had spotted flying over, and, now she noticed, tied to its leg was a rolled up piece of parchment. 

Bex was even more bewildered now. She looked at her father, and a solemn wave of resignation had washed over his face. "Well, I always knew the time would come. I really hoped it wouldn't...but I knew." He said quietly. 

"Dad?" Bex watched as he walked over to the window, opening it to slowly untie the parchment from the bird's leg. "What's going on? What is that owl doing? What are you doing?" 

He didn't respond to her at first, just finished untying the parchment, holding it tightly in his left hand as he watched the owl fly away. Bex watched it too, still wondering what in the world was going on. 

Then, he shut the window tightly, and walked back over to Bex, putting a firm hand on her shoulder. She looked up at her father, and she had never seen him so stoic before, so serious. He was always joking, amused, but now...he wasn't himself. 

"D-dad...?" Bex stammered, officially scared. 

He looked down at her, and she noticed tears welling up in his eyes. "Bex. It's time I told you something I probably should've long ago. Are you ready?" 

She looked into his eyes, unnerved. "Dad...what is going---" 

"Are. You. Ready, Bex?" He repeated.

She took a deep breath. "Yes, Dad. I'm ready."

What other choice did she have?