Hufflepuff
Fourth Year (In-House Stand-In)
Standard
Pairing: George Weasley/Luna Lovegood
Additional Requirement: Must contain a letter or a note.
Word Count: 1220
For the Houses Competition
Dear George,
I suppose this is where a person would usually put pleasantries like, "How are you?" and "I've been fine." I am fine, there's no concern there. Would you have concern for someone you only spoke to a couple times? I certainly would. I think you can feel concern for anyone even if you don't know them. Concern stems from sympathy and empathy.
I'm sure you're sad. It's okay, there's no time-frame for grief. I was sad for the longest time when I lost Mummy. It still makes me sad. This letter isn't entirely about condolences since I'm sure you've had enough to last a lifetime and, I assure you, when you've had your fill people will push them even more.
Anyway, back to the reason I am writing you, George. I know how much you love pranking and I'm certain you're always looking for new things for your shop. I've always found your shop terribly clever and I think what it needs is a terribly clever mascot. The creature I sent you is named Bartholomew. He's rather mischievous, and while he isn't the most interesting creature, I've found on my travels I think he'd be a perfect companion for you.
Sincerely,
Luna Lovegood
P.S. I will be by in two weeks to see how you and Bartholomew are getting on.
P.P.S. I attached care instructions.
George set the letter down and looked contemplatively at the holey box. He'd never really talked to Luna Lovegood, but he knew she was barmy in the best sense of the word. Had she been in his year, he, Fred, and Lee would probably have sought her out as a partner in crime. Crazy people had the best ideas. It had been almost three years since the Battle of Hogwarts and he was still easily driven to tears.
Hermione had been a good friend and helped him dye his hair brown, so it couldn't be reversed by a charm and Lee was there when Angelina left.
George wasn't even sure why he tried a relationship with Angelina anyway. She was a lovely girl, but he and Fred weren't interchangeable, and it wasn't fair to either of them. They ended up fighting half the time and even with his damaged ear she'd called him Fred twice.
But it had been ten months since their separation. He'd been living in the flat above the shop by himself through that span of time and it had been some of the loneliest of his life. He'd never been by himself before and he learned how easy it was to close yourself off from others.
He had just closed the shop for the day when Luna's letter and package arrived via owl.
The box rattled. Might as well see what was so "terribly clever".
He cut off the twine and the box fell away easily. Sitting in a square cage was… a raven.
George rested his chin in his hands and studied Bartholomew. The creature clicked his beak and studied him right back.
"Luna thinks I'll like you," he said.
Bartholomew fluffed his neck ruffles and cackled. George scowled.
"What? You think we won't?"
"Food," Bartholomew warbled.
George stilled and looked at care instructions.
Ravens can mimic human speech.
Ravens will eat fruit, seeds, and bugs, as well as meat.
"Fine," he said and stood up. "I'll get you some food."
He opened his ice box and found an uncooked steak he bought and intended to cook. It was supposed to expire that day, so it was probably still good. He diced it up with a chef's knife he got for Christmas and placed the pieces on a plate. Wrinkling his nose, he turned back to the table and found the cage empty with the door open.
"Bartholomew?" he called tentatively.
"Here."
He cried out in surprise when he realized Bartholomew was standing on the plate scarfing down the meat.
"Where the hell did you come from?"
"Neither here nor there nor anywhere!" Bartholomew flapped his wings and hopped onto the counter. "Can I really be from if you have never been?"
Perplexed, George set the plate down and snatched up the letter.
He speaks in riddles we can't yet comprehend.
"Oh, that's fascinating!" said George crossly. "I suppose it will also be at all hours of the night! What else is there?"
If he's just eaten: Duck. If you would please, note what color it is.
He dropped to the ground to avoid a purple blast of fire.
"Bloody hell!"
"Made ya look!"
That wasn't the end of it.
Obviously, Bartholomew was no ordinary raven. The fire and riddles weren't even half of it. Bartholomew could change colors to match his surroundings, pop in-and-out of existence, and he yacked on George's favorite blanket. Luna really was loony to send him something this chaotic and destructive. He found himself chasing the damn thing almost as much as he was avoiding it.
George was crawling around the house and listening under the floorboards and against the walls wondering where it was when a knock came at his door. Running his fingers through his hair, which was already vibrantly orange at its roots, he opened it to see his friends and siblings standing there with a cake.
"Happy Birthday," they said cheerfully.
George blew out the candle, slammed the door, and leaned against it, unable to stop the waterfall of tears.
"I told you it was a bad idea," said Ginny.
"Let's just leave him alone," said Lee. "We'll get him out tomorrow."
George buried his head in his knees and sniffled.
He lifted his head to see Bartholomew standing in front of him, studying him with those beady black eyes.
"What?" he said flatly.
"Sadness is easily shared but not easily felt."
"What does that even mean?"
"Fortune cookie." Bartholomew hopped closer and flapped his wings enough, so he could perch on George's shoulder.
George tried to push him off, but Bartholomew just tightened his grip, so George gave up. Bartholomew fluffed up, settled in the crook of his neck, and made a soothing, purring sound. Not realizing how tired he was, George drifted off to sleep.
When he woke, he was on top of his bed. How he got there was a mystery until he saw Bartholomew asleep on his stomach. The bird must be able to transport things as well as himself. Which would explain what happened to all his left shoes. This thing was absolutely insane and yet… George realized this past week was the liveliest he'd been since Fred died. Luna sent him a friend that would be his equal. If George were an animal he'd want to be one as chaotic as Bartholomew.
"Thanks," George whispered, stroking Bartholomew's feathers.
"Thanks," Bartholomew echoed in a different tone.
As promised, George met Luna for tea at a local shop with Bartholomew perched on his shoulder. Luna had already arrived and was perusing a menu. She looked as eccentric as ever with her floral embroidered overalls, patterned shirt, and winged glasses perched on top her yellow hair. She looked up and smiled.
"Hello, George," she said pleasantly. "How are you and Bartholomew getting on?"
George and Bartholomew exchanged looks.
"Where do I begin?" he said with a light laugh. "First off… he's terribly clever…"