I'd never really liked storms; there is just something about them that makes me feel uneasy. As a child I would watch the bright flashes illuminate my room from the safety of my closet, where only a small crack would allow me to see the white bars of lightning. Even now I seek the comfort of a warm bed, with the windows tightly shut and a good book balanced on my knees.

I had been trying to read the same page of my book for the past half an hour, but with each flash my eyes would be torn from the beautifully descriptive words to the black curtains. I had bought those curtains with the hope that they would help block out the storms that seem to rage every other day, they don't appear to be working.

I force my eyes back to my book, knowing that sleep will never overpower me while this storm continues to rattle the earth. I stare at the words until my eyes begin to hurt, reading the same line several times but finding that I remember none of the events that the words describe. A sudden screeching noise followed by a crash causes me to jump, my eyes snapping up to the closed window.

Placing the book down on the wooden chest of draws I crawl out from beneath the safe covers and approach the black veiled glass. My hands shake as I reach towards the material, my fear of lightning and storms evident in each tremor

Taking a deep breath I yank the curtain aside with such force that it comes away from the rail, landing in a heavy heap to my right, the following scream that echoes around my room was in no way high pitched and girly. My hand flies to my chest as I take deep steadying breathes. On the other side of the window was nothing more than a big black owl, repeatedly flying into the glass.

Recovering from my shock I realise that the poor creature must have gotten disorientated in the storm and I rush forward to open the window. As soon as all the bird's feather are safely within the house I slam the window in an attempt to stop the storm from following the owl inside.

Turning my attention from the frightening storm I briefly glimpse at the pile of fabric that I would have to re-hang on the railing if there was to be any hope of sleep, before turning my full attention to the battered animal clinging onto my left arm with sharp claws.

The owls eyes were blown wide with fear, blinking in confusion as it realised it hadn't gotten to wherever it was trying to go. Its left wing was bent at a slightly odd angle; probably from smashing into the glass and its sleek black feathers were blown in all directions. It was obvious that this owl wouldn't be flying anywhere else for a while.

Shaking my head at the bewildered animal's almost comical facial expression I moved round the room to the empty owl perch. Normally my owl Tridgewick would rest here, but I had sent Tridgewick on an errand earlier in the day to the Romione residence and I know Hermione would not have let him back out in this kind of weather.

I took me several minutes to coax the terrified creature off of my arm and onto the perch. After he had released my now throbbing arm he stared at me with wide intelligent eyes, with the fear no longer present in the black depths of the creatures stare I moved to pick up the curtain and set about re-hanging it. Determined to get at least a few hours sleep before dawn and the necessary trip I would have to take to the vets.