✔️ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎 → ℎ. 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

01 | A R R I V A L

you don't know my mind.
             you don't know my kind.

   IT WAS EXCITEMENT mingled with fear that left her breathless sitting in Ron's room, throwing gazes at the clock every now and then. Ever since Ember was told about the Dementors attack, she couldn't wait to have Harry here all safe and secure. Although knowing he would be as mad as never before. Neither had Ember written to him, nor had Ron and Hermione sent him satisfying answers to his questions, and it was not even twenty minutes ago that a furious Hedwig had attempted bloody murder on them, delivering three equal letters for each of them. But as it was thirty minutes ago that half of the Order had left Grimmauld Place to fly all the way to Little Whinging, Ember as well as Ron and Hermione didn't reply on his letter — again.

   Ron and Hermione stood in the middle of the room, enlighted by candles and torches; enveloped in shadows, Ember watched them, and said shadows seemed to grow darker with every passing second. Their whispers sounded like angry rattle snakes in her ears, their heads stuck together so close.

   We won't go anywhere. That's what he, Ron, had told Ember. But why did she feel ever since they had arrived here that she was left alone? And with time running on, Ember recognised that Ron and Hermione were not her friends; they were Harry's. They might got along with her as long as Harry was around, but they didn't really care for her if he wasn't. No, Ember had her own friends; Susan and Hannah, both writing Ember weekly, and of course Cedric; Cedric, who would never write to her ever again.

   Blinking the brimming tears away, the shadows around her seemed to lift a bit, right on cue to see Ron patting Hermione's back.

   Sliding from the bed, Ember crossed the room, her hand already on the door handle when Ron said, "Where are you going? Harry must be here in no time."

   "Fred and George", Ember muttered. "Don't want to bother you two."

   There was no answer, and Ember didn't really expect one when she sneaked through the door and took the stairs to the next floor, where not just the twins' room, but also her own was. Hearing Fred and George laughing, she passed their door, slipping into the quietness of her own four walls.

   Almost she did scream when she turned around after closing the door as quiet as she could, but in time she covered her mouth with her hands, staring at the little screech owlet sitting on her bed, a dead, headless mouse in one claw, a blood crusted letter in the other. This owl was new. Susan owned a scops owl, Hannah a tiny elf owl; and the bird she was awaiting was a majestic barn owl the size of a baby dragon.

   When Ember stepped closer, the owls shooed in excitement, jumping up and down the mattress. The mouse fell to the floor, leaving bloodstains on her blanket. Her face a disgusted grimace, Ember told herself to ask Fred and George to clean it later, while the owl stretched out her foot with another shoo.

   "Who do you belong to, huh?", Ember asked, absentmindedly patting the owl's head as she tried to read what's written on the envelope, but blood had covered the sender. The bird nuzzled his feathery head into Ember's palm. "Seems like this was your first delivery, was it, little friend?", she snorted, opening the letter. The owl wasn't that old, still wearing those extra soft feathers on her belly. With a sound like a purr, it jumped onto Ember's shoulder, and Ember started reading, immediately recognising the handwriting.

   E.,

   those questions are impossible to be answered in a letter. My home isn't safe any longer for your letters to arrive, and sending a showy splendid white owl for delivery is such a stupid idea, I would have expected from your brother, but not you.

   Yes, I know what is going on, but I don't know what caused it. You need to be careful, they are still after you.

   Tell me a date where you're in Diagon Alley. There wouldn't be much time, but telling you details face to face could save both your and my life. Owls are going to be controlled from now on in my house, so for Merlin's sake don't use your brother's owl!

   This owl I sent you is trained to deliver your letters to a safe place, even though I cannot promise that it will stay like that. Write me a date, anything else we will discuss when we meet.

   D.M.

   PS.: This owl is yours now. It's an attention seeking, annoying beast, so it perfectly fits you. See it as a belated birthday present, and I dare you to make a fuzz out of it.

   Ember turned the letter around, hoping to find more information, but was disappointed. Then her eyes turned to the bird, that just now was landing in her lap.

   "Annoying little beast you are?", she asked, tilting her head. "I think he's exaggerating, that's what he can do best." The little bird again gave a shoo, jumping up. "You need a name, little creampuff. What do you think about Woody?" Spreading his wings, the owl nudged her head into Ember's tummy. "Uff, so then Woody it is. Oh, Hedwig will be absolutely disgusted by you, I am —"

   But she was cut off mid sentence, the owl jumping up flustered, as loud screams filled the house. It was a wonder that Mrs Black didn't join the serenade that was raising through the floor from the room right below hers; a voice filled with so much anger and frustration, Ember's heart was breaking just from listening.

   Harry had arrived.

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