and the Owl Post
Chapter One: The BicycleCatriona awoke to the faint sound of tapping and clicking at her window. It was still dark outside. Springing up in her bed, she gasped.
"It's Saturday! Zooks! I've slept in!" she cried, rolling out of bed with a clunk and pulling on her boots and robes. The tapping didn't stop.
"Sorry, Orion," Catriona breathed as she opened the window of the dormitory to let in a small, tawny owl. It hooted and perched on her shoulder. She looked at her watch, which had revolving stars and planets on it. She moaned. "Oh, not again! Mr. Chesson's going to KILL ME!"
She burst through the door and charged through the empty Common Room.
As she made her way across the sloping lawn towards the broomshed, she muttered angrily to herself, "Everyone else gets to sleep in. It's Saturday," she said, in a mocking voice. "But does Catriona? Nooooo. SHE has to get up early to work."
She opened the weathered wooden door to the shed, not to pull out a broom, but a light blue, rusty bicycle. A Muggle bicycle.
"Come on, ya piece of junk," she growled at the contraption. It looked tired and weary. Almost as tired as Catriona herself, who had dark bags under her eyes.
Orion hooted and rustled his feathers. Catriona jumped, seemingly not remembering that he had been perched on her shoulder all the while.
She grabbed the handles of the bike and pulling back with all her might, freed it from the tangle of broomsticks. Catriona, in her patched and worn robes, looked quite the pair with the pike. Its rims were bent and out of shape with several spokes missing. The tires were worn bald. They were so old they creaked and cracked as Catriona swung her leg over the ripped leather seat and put her weight on them. The bicycle groaned.
As she kicked off the ground and began peddling, the pedals jerked and gave way beneath her feet. With a clack, clack she headed down the path to Hogsmeade. The pedal began to scrape and hit against the loose kickstand. Click, click. The chain, which was altogether mangled and kinked, clonked along.
Catriona and her bicycle were a moving orchestra, Click, click, clack, click, click, clang!, Accompanied by Catriona's curses and cries.
She decided to take a shortcut through the small woods, but, like most short cuts, she had to duck constantly under branches, peddle out of the squechtling mud, and came out five minutes later than if she had taken the trodden path.
She rode into Hogsmeade as the first early morning light streaked the misty skies. Catriona dismounted in front of the Owl Post and let her bike clatter to the ground, not bothering with a kickstand.
After silencing the bell over the door with a charm, she crouched down and slipped by the front counter and into the back room.
"We can't keep her, Sage," Mr. Chesson, the Owl Post owner was saying behind the counter. There was the sound of money being counted.
"Avery," Mrs. Chesson said, exasperated, "You're talking like she's a stray dog. She's got a way with the owls and she's a decent worker. It's hard enough with the owl shortages, but to lose employees…" Catriona held her breath and listened. They were talking about her.
"She's very well near a stray dog. No parents… just wanders around, she's not even reliable. Look, 5:30 and she's not even here. She's not dependable, Sage. First paycheck she gets she'll make off with it like a-"
"No. She's right honest," his wife persisted. "Dumbledore recommended her, and as far as I'm concerned, that's good enough for me. Merlin's beard, Avery, it's only her third week. Give her a chance, will you?"
There was a grunt from Mr. Chesson. "Oh, alright, but if she doesn't show up in the next ten minutes or so, she'll be up cleaning to stoops."
Catriona sighed. Some impact I've made, she thought bitterly as she put on her falconry gloves. She heard someone behind her and quickly turned.
"Hello," Aramais Chesson, a 17 year-old Hufflepuff said. His parents owned the Owl Post, and he often came to work for them on the weekends. He was tall, at least a full foot and half taller than Catriona. He had long brown hair which he tied back, and deep, hazel eyes. Catriona smiled weakly.
"You're here," he said, smiling politely. "You'd best get cleaned but before going on duty." He pointed out, tipping his head to the mirror.
She nodded and faced the mirror. She gaped at the girl looking back at her. Her uncombed hair housed several leaves and twigs. She had scratches on her face and dirt on her chin. Aramais left the room and entered the front, shaking his head and smiling.
Five minutes and seven band-aides later, Catriona came out as well.