Hello one and all. A new year is upon us. Year Five. The number of chapters just keeps getting forever longer. I do own Flute and he is definitely one of my favorite characters :) Reviews please! Enjoy!
Iris was cleaning the glasses and mugs behind the counter of the Leaky Cauldron. She watched as students and teachers frequented through the pub to get to Diagon Alley.
Iris had gotten the job at the beginning of the summer so that she wouldn't have to be counting the seconds till she would be returning to Hogwarts.
George had written her twice since they last saw each other at King's Cross station. One of his letters said that he was supposed to be in Diagon Alley in a week's time and that he would come and see her.
Iris was patiently waiting for her shift to be over. It seemed that since the news of the Dark Lord's return had been revealed, it had slowed business tremendously.
Ever since Harry had said that Voldemort had returned, Iris had been having more and more frequent dreams of her parent's death and the Dark Mark
"Iris?" She turned around to see Tom, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron, "You can go home now. It doesn't look like we're going to have many people in today."
Iris placed the clean cup on the rack and put the dirty rag into a basket, where the cleaning witch would grab them in the morning.
The next day she had the day off and was wandering around Diagon Alley, trying to figure out what to spend her earnings on.
Iris looked through the windows of the numerous stores but couldn't quite find anything that she wanted, until she heard the sound of a tiny hoot that sounded like someone blowing a single note repeatedly into a flute.
Iris gushed over the small owl perched in the cage. The sign above it said that he was a 'Saw-Whet owl'. She looked down at the tiny creature and picked up the cage and brought it into Eeylopes Owl Emporium.
Iris walked out of the store with the tiny hooting owl in tow along with a bag of pellets.
She carried the small owl back to the orphanage and snuck him into her room. Iris grabbed a quill and parchment and wrote a short note to Neville asking about how his summer was while the tiny owl flew around the enclosed room.
Iris decided on the name, Flute, for he hooted in such a way that it reminded her of a peaceful lullaby.
Flute landed on Iris's desk and started to peck at her as she wrote. At first it was a soft nip then it gradually got harder and more painful until he drew blood.
The man she paid for Flute said that he would be temperamental but forever loyal and protective. Iris was hoping that he was right as she sucked the blood on her now bleeding knuckle.
After she had finished her note to Neville she tied it to Flute's leg and opened the window. Iris watched as he flew from the orphanage window until she could no longer see him.
