A/N: Hello there, thank you very much for clicking on this story, I hope you enjoy it!

A big hug and thank you for gote, who has helped me so much with this story. Thank you, you're the best! :D

This story is written for Round 13 on the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition forum. There was no challenge this round, we could write about anything we wanted, as long as it was rated between K and T, and was at least 1000 words and no longer than 3000 words. And without the A/N's it's below 3000 words, so... here it is :P

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

The Third Weasley

Brightness. So much brightness. Quick, back to the darkness, quick. And noise, so much noise. I listen to it in wonder, though I don't understand it.

And there, brightness again. And darkness. And brightness. And darkness. I can control the light. Oh wow, I can control the light.

Then I realise that I'm blinking. And I can see.

First, it is vague. But the more times I blink, the less vague and blinding the brightness becomes. Some things look darker, other lighter.

Figures and forms, I think. They get more clear. It's not bright, but it's not dark either. It's a colour. It's all colours, all different and they move. I don't know what I see. It's difficult, very difficult.

A sound, louder than before. Different too. It made me feel. I felt it. It had vibrated in me. It wasn't just like the noise, it was a sound. My sound. I can make sounds. I make the sound again, surprised, and excited and happy, those feelings filling my chest.

I try again, and again, that feeling and that sound. Something is placed in my beak. It feels weird. I can taste it. I swallow and it's gone. I don't know what it was, but I liked it. It had tasted very nice. I want more.

I try again. I open my beak, and I make the sound again, I know I make the sound, because I can hear it, I can hear it over the noise, and I can feel it, feel it in my chest.

It works. Something is placed in my beak, I taste and I swallow, and I feel it settle in my stomach. It feels good. I feel good. Still, there's the noise. What's the noise?

Sounds. They are all sounds, all sounds like my own. So many sounds. All different. Like my own, but different. It's too hard. I don't know what to do with them. My head hurts.

And I feel tired. I feel so tired. So, so tired. I close my eyes so it becomes dark again. I stop trying to listen to the sounds, stop trying to understand them, and the sounds become only noise once again.

And then the world turns dark again.

"Ah, congratulations you two," an old man whispered, as he tentatively reached out to pat a grey owl. The animal hissed at him, spreading her wings threateningly.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't touch your babies with a finger." The man chuckled, but pulled his hand back nonetheless.

"He looks good, doesn't he?" the younger man standing next to him asked.

"Oh yes, he looks good. They all do. Three beautiful little chicks, they'll do great. I have big hopes for this litter."

"And the other two...? Tomorrow and the day after tomorrow?" the younger one asked.

"Yes, very probably. You're getting an eye for this Elroy," the older man replied, smiling. "I don't doubt that you'll do very well in a few years."

"A lot of years," Elroy quickly said. "You won't be out of this shop in just a few years, Dad."

The two men had turned away from the nest, leaving the two parents and their brood alone. "We'll see about that boy, we'll see about that."

"Three, stay here," Mummy says. "You can't go outside yet, it's-"

"Oh let him, Aga, the boy is almost three moons," Daddy says, and I let out an excited sound. Daddy is always on my side.

Mummy opened her beak to say something, but Daddy adds, "Four and Five are already outside too, Three can go, it would be unfair otherwise."

"Alright, but don't-" Mummy says after being silent for a moment, and I finish her sentence, "Go to the front, yes, I know."

"Just be careful," Mummy says, and I turn around to look at her. She's worried, I see that. One disappeared just a few nights ago. Mummy said that it was normal, and Daddy said it couldn't be helped.

"Of course," I say, but I wonder what happened to One. And why Mummy and Daddy are so worried about us.

Just as I fly away, the door opens. Three creatures – humans, I have learnt – walk in. Everyone hoots and croaks and rasps and squeals as more brightness comes from the open door.

I land on one of the shelves on the side of the broad aisle and watch the humans walk further in Home. I recognise one of them, it's Grey One. He always brings us the food, he and Brown One.

The humans walk in further and make human sounds, sounds I have heard before but that I can't understand. They are looking at us.

Everyone is uneasy, waiting. I don't know what they are waiting for, but it's making me feel nervous too.

The humans are still making sounds and walking around. Then suddenly, Grey One turns to me and grabs me. His claws close around my body, making it impossible for me to flap my wings. I squeak and squeal, trying to wriggle myself free.

It doesn't work. I am still stuck, no matter how much I try. The humans are still making sounds, and the other two are suddenly very close, watching me.

Then they turn away, and the humans start walking again, back into the brightness of the open door. We are walking again, because Grey one hasn't let me go.

"Mummy, Mummy!" I yell, panicking and wriggling even harder to get free, but Grey One's grasp on me only tightens, making it harder to breathe. The light is blinding me, I can't see anything, where is he taking me? What is going on? "Daddy! Mummy!"

I can hear them, hear them calling out to me, and the others yell too, but their sounds slowly fade as Grey One takes me further and further away from my family.

Slowly my eyesight gets used to the brightness, and I can see again. The air is different too, less musty and aromatic. I don't know if I like it.

Grey One finally releases me, but I'm not Home anymore. I'm placed in a small cylindrical thing, being kept inside by black thin bars, starting at the floor of this thing, then going up and finally coming together right above my head.

One of the humans, red and round and smaller than the other one – a female, I realise – looks at me through the bars and makes some sounds at me. I don't know what to do, so I just stare back at her.

Then she picks up me, in that thing, that cage, and takes me further away from my home. And then I know that this is what happened to One too.

"He's such a cutie, isn't he Arthur?" the young redhead cooed, as she and her husband walked through the crowded Diagon Alley.

"Oh yes, he definitely is. Don't steal my wife away, eh?" the man called Arthur said, addressing the last bit to the young owl in the cage.

"Plus," he added, "It's a Great Grey Owl, those tend to live really long."

There was a silence between the two, only filled with a bit of humming. Then he asked, "How are we going to call him?"

"Hmm... what about Errol?" she said, and answering the unasked question of her husband she continued, "I don't know where I got it from, but I like how it sounds..."

"Errol..." Arthur tasted the name. "Yes, yes, I like it. Errol it is then."

"You hear that, little owl? You're Errol now. Welcome to the family," Molly said, smiling at the owl.

"The Weasley family," the man added, grinning.

"Yes, yes, I get it, I'm married to you, I'm a Weasley now," she said, chuckling. "Stop flaunting it around already."

"Flaunting it around? Oh Molly..." He laughed, and as the couple turned around a corner, their hands linked together.

Here they come again. I can hear them running towards me, their feet hitting and slipping over the floor. Groggily, I open one eye to look at the interrupters of my sleep. The night is almost beginning, and I had arrived when the sun had been on the highest point, after a journey of over one night. Couldn't they let me rest first?

"Errol Errol Errol Errol Errol!" they squeak in their high human voices, jumping up and down. They make other sounds too, but I don't understand them.

"What?" I hoot at them, finally opening my eyes. They are with four, the eldest four that are still in the house, as the one I call First One had left House to go to Castle, leaving only Wild One, Four Eyes and both of Those Two to bother me. Those Two are almost always together and look very alike, making it very hard for me to know which one is which. They're just one.

There are actually two more little humans in the house, but Another One and Small One usually leave me alone. But ever since First One has left the house a few nights ago, the four now standing in front of me expect me to fly from House to Castle and back, heavy letters attached to my claws.

When I notice Four Eyes holding a big pile of parchment, I know I will have to fly again. I never have a moment rest in this household...

The humans are still squeaking and yelling, making a lot of noise and deafening me, until Four Eyes starts making hissing sounds, then the others finally turn silent.

Then he turns to me, and after pushing the glasses he has further up his beak, he says in that special voice of his, "Errol... letter... to Bill Weasley... Hogwarts."

He says some more, but I'm not listening anymore. I'm translating. Me. Heavy pile of parchment. To First One. At Castle.

With a tired squeak I tell them I am tired, but that I will try nonetheless. I don't know if they have understood me, as they just make more sounds and then attach the heavy pile to my claw.

When Wild One says something, Those Two pull something out of their pockets and hold it out for me. Curiously, I bend forward and vaguely smell something. I pick at it, carefully not to hit their little claws. That didn't work out very well before, I remembered. Humans have very sensitive claws.

It's food, what Those Two are holding, it's food! Gluttonously, I quickly eat the food, enjoying something else than the usual mouse and leftovers from human food.

Those Two squeak, and they sound and look happy. As soon as I'm finished, I feel reenergized. I hoot happily and gratefully, hoping that they understand it.

All of them reach out and pat me, messing up my feathers, but I don't care much at the moment. I like it. Then they wave, and I spread my wings, readying myself to take off.

They yell something, I hear it as I fly out of the window, and I believe it's "Bye bye Errol!"

"Bye bye Errol?" Molly who just walked in the room asked her four sons. They all grinned sheepishly when they notice their mother, who was looking at them with an expectant look.

"Well..." Charlie said, fiddling with his fingers and not looking at his mother, but not talking either.

Then one of the twins spoke up, "We sent a letter to Bill!"

"Oh boys..." their mother said, shaking her head. "Poor Errol can't handle that many flights, he needs to rest first. He just got back this afternoon!"

"Sorry Mum," they all muttered, having the sense to look away from their annoyed looking mother.

She just sighed and shook her head, saying "Well, nothing to do about it now. Let's just hope he doesn't exhaust himself."

The boys nodded, already starting to walk away, but their mother didn't let them. "However, next time... you first have to ask me before you get to use Errol, okay?"

They sighed, stared at the ground for a few moments, but then finally said, "Okay..."

"Good," their mother said, "Now off you boys go, I have work to do here. Out out, go play!"

Quickly, the brothers scurried out of the room, leaving their mother to clean up the mess the owl had made.

"Oh dear, there he comes again," Hermes says, trying not to look too annoyed when the little ball of feathers comes flying back to us. I can't see him, only vaguely see something moving in our direction – my eyesight has been getting worse and worse with the years.

"I'm so happy I'm so happy I'm so happy!" he screeches as he flies past, before settling next to Hermes. The small owl keeps hopping from one foot to the other, blabbering endlessly, undoubtedly about something uninteresting and unneeded too. He has that tendency.

"Oh will you be silent please?" I ask, and I know I sound more annoyed than polite.

He's the new owl here, and he still needs to know the rules. Which include being silent during the day, so the others are able to rest.

I don't think he has heard me. Pigwidgeon is his name, I believe, and I call him that, but he doesn't listen, just keeps tattering on and on and on. It gives me a headache, and I'm tired and I want to sleep.

"Shut up!" I yell at him, but he doesn't pay attention to me. Hermes is also looking pretty annoyed, and I look at him for support.

Just when I can't stand it anymore, Another One appears, looking annoyed and making human sounds at Pigwidgeon. With a swift movement Another One grabs the annoying little brat and takes him with him to another room, the sounds of Pigwidgeon slowly fading.

Hermes and I look at each other, both relieved that that nuisance has gone. We don't say anything more, just close our eyes, enjoying every little moment of peace we can get. Because it doesn't look like we're going to have much of that this coming summer.

"Oh Merlin's socks, why do you have to be so annoying?" Ron said to the owl in his hand. "Why couldn't I get a normal owl?"

The small owl just stared up at his owner, finally silent for a moment, and the boy found himself sighing.

"Well, you're better than nothing, I suppose," he said, and the owl squeaked happily.

"Just..." he added, "you really need to stop annoying Errol and Hermes. Old owls like them need their sleep."

The owl squeaked again and the boy carefully patted it. Then the owl flew from his hand, starting to hyperactively fly in circles again, causing him to groan, "Oh Pig..."

It takes me a while to realise something is off. Way, way off. There has been something off for a long time, a tension hanging in the air, making me feel nervous and a little scared. But now it's different, it's sadder.

One of Those Two is gone. There is only one left. He – I don't know what to call him anymore – spends a lot of time with us owls, with Hermes, Pigwidgeon and me.

Sometimes he's just silent and sitting here, other times he makes a lot of sounds, and other times he pats us. We let him, because we don't know what else to do.

It makes me feel sad too.

Someone feeds me. I don't know who it is, because I can't see them anymore. I can hear their footsteps though, and smell them. Either Round One or Small One, I think, because they smell flowery. The male humans never smell flowery.

Either Round One or Small One makes some human sounds, and I realize it's very probably Round One. Small One has higher and louder sounds, these sounds are softer.

I eat, even though I don't feel hungry. I just feel tired. It's all I seem to do lately. But I'm just so tired...

Round One picks me up, softly pats me. She's warm and I feel even more tired. I can't remember ever feeling this tired.

She's making human sounds and rocks me back and forth. For some reason I think of Mummy and Daddy and my siblings, and I wonder how they are doing. I wonder if I will ever see them again.

My eyelids droop, but I don't want to fall asleep, even though I feel so tired. So, so tired...

I vaguely, slowly, drift off to sleep, though I can still hear her humming. The darkness seems to get lighter, and then I realise... how can I see that?

There is more light, and I suddenly I'm flying towards the light and the colours, and I'm feeling so light and happy. I think I see Mummy and Daddy, but I'm not sure. I can still hear the humming.

As the light gets brighter and closer, the humming subdues, till it's completely gone.

And then I'm home.

"You know, I still can't believe that Errol... I mean, he always seemed so indestructible," Bill said, as Charlie carefully placed an unmoving heap of feathers in a hole in the ground. Around the hole a group of people are standing – the Weasley family.

"Yeah, but he was already very old... I'll miss him, poor bird," Molly said, patting Ron on his back. "He has been with us so long..."

"Yes, I'll miss him too... He was part of the family," he said.

"But Ron, you always called him a menace..." Ginny said, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah..." he said thoughtfully, "Yeah, because he was a menace. But... But he was a Weasley menace."

"And he always will be," George suddenly spoke up, having been silent ever since they found out.

"Yes, he always will be."

A/N: Thank you very much for reading this, it's very appreciated! I hope you liked it, and reviews are very welcome! And a bit early, but Merry Christmas and a happy New Year everyone!
Thanks again!