A Familiar's Duty
"You're owl's a nightmare." Harry said, lying in his four poster bed, face down into the pillow. "I don't think I want to go to breakfast."
Ron grunted in agreement, copying Harry with a blanket covering him from head to toe.
"You shouldn't have given him pumpkin juice." Harry said. Breakfast has become a nightmare for the golden trio. Every morning, like clockwork, the little lump of feathers would show up and plunge itself into the pumpkin juice, splashing everyone and everything near. Many plates of food was ruined. "Think it's safe yet?"
"I'd give it five more minutes." Ron mumbled.
'Morning again' Pigwidgeon thought to himself, shaking his feathers and stretching his wings before heading off to the great hall. "Hoo." He greeted to Hedwig, who returned the greeting before cleaning her white feathers. Pig took his normal place beside her in the rafters. He peered closer to the table his master sat at, noticing he wasn't there. Pig relaxed, cleaning his feathers for the moment, they were so sticky lately. In a few minutes he saw his master come out, wary and tired. He took his normal spot.
Pig stopped cleaning his feathers, eyes locked onto the table, waiting, knowing it was going to happen sooner or later. He puffed up in anticipation and saw his cue. The twins thought they were subtle, using their wands in their sleeves, but Pig saw, they had to point to it to use it properly. He knew they had used their magic to try and trick his human.
Pigwidgeon jumped into the air and dived, heading straight toward the pumpkin juice. He couldn't let his master drink it! He wouldn't be a good familiar if he did.
"Oh no," Hermoine said, noticing Pig's dive. "Incoming!" She used her wand and shielded herself, unfortunately, Ron and Harry did not react in time; they were covered in the sticky liquid.
"Not again, Pig!" Ron moaned, "This was my last clean pair! I won't be able to get another one until tomorrow!"
Pig peeped his head out of the pitcher, giving a happy coo. He was a good familiar, he had protected his master. He just wished that pumpkin juice wasn't such a sticky headache.
The End