Chapter 1:

"How about let me out of the fucking cage."

Magritte WestCraven froze, not even breathing for a moment as she wondered if she were going insane. Hearing voices was a sign of that. She'd read that in a Muggle psychology book last year. She wasn't a Muggle or even a half blood, but her father, Raislen WestCraven had one of the largest personal libraries probably in the world. As such she had access to all manner of books on just about everything. Including Muggle psychology which she found particularly fascinating. Understand a person and you knew the best ways to deal with them for your own ends, after all.

She had just gotten back from shopping for school supplies in the alleys with her parents. The last thing she'd bought was her pet. Her mother said it was best to do that last so whatever poor animal she chose didn't have to be dragged around to every other store. Mag wasn't sure what sort of animal she wanted so had just looked around. The owls caught her eye but in particular a large white owl that had come out to the front of the cage where all the owls were kept. The owl had just stood there watching her expectantly, and intrigued she'd told here parents she wanted that one. The young wizard who caged the owl up said he was male. He had remained oddly calm until they got home, sitting very still on the floor of the cage, staring wide eyed seemingly at nothing.

Slowly, Mag opened the owl's cage just to see what would happen. Owls couldn't talk in people's minds, she knew that. She also knew, until a moment ago, that she wasn't insane. So she was curious, as such, to see what the bird would do when the cage door was open. The owl sprang out, wings snapping open as he flew to land on the bottom ale of Magritt's four poster bed.

"Fuckin' took you long enough, but thanks I guess." The voice spoke while the owl's head turned to regard her. Could it be?

"Are you talking to me," Mag said, speaking aloud, beginning to feel a sense of wonder as the fear that she was going insane began slowly dissipating. "I suppose what I meant is are you really...talking," she clarified, feeling immediately stupid.

"Obviously," the owl replied, eyes still on her as he spoke...thought? "I'm Nightshade."

"I'm Mag," she replied. "How are you able to do that? I don't think other owls can do that."

"Of course they can't. All other owls are tard babies," the owl proclaimed.

"What's a..."

"A tard baby is a very stupid retarded owl," Nightshade defined.

"Oh," Mag said, for lack of anything better, all considering. She had a thinking/talking owl, and that shouldn't be possible except for the fact that owls from wizarding pet shops did have some sort of magic if they could handle the mail the way they did.

"Yeah but that's all they can do so they're tard babies. And about the mail shit, I won't be doing that."

"Why must you swear so," Mag asked.

"Again not doing the mail thing," the owl replied.