Eyelops and Owls

I thought we'd be done for sure, that after getting our robes, supplies, books, etc., we'd be off, catching the six o'clock to Edinburg. What I did not expect was mother sitting down beside me as I looked at my new wand1, two parcels in each hand. I could tell immediately that books were concealed beneath the brown wrapping paper and twine. My eyes drifted to the tags attached at the top. Each tag read: To Alice and Raven. I sighed.

Mum looked down at me. She had adjusted her hair—pulled even tighter in to a bun inside her hat. Where'd she'd gotten the books I didn't know, though I eyed her purse, wondering if Father had put an undetectable extension charm on it.

She split the two parcels between me and Alice. I held what felt like the larger of the two books. "These are gifts from Dad." She looked at Alice and continued, "And I don't know what they are so no whining about who gets to open what." She looked back to me. "Got it?" I nodded fervently. "They are to share."

Alice took that as a que to rip open her package. But Mum intervened quickly.

"No. Alice stop." She put her hand on Alice's arm. Alice shot her a look of disgust, but rescinded back to a look of innocence as Mum seemed ready to snatch the present back. "There's a card first." From her purse mother produced a folded piece of parchment and handed it—as she always did—to Alice to read.

"Bet I can guess the first five words," I said, rotating the new wand in my hand. "Sorry I'm not with you."

Mum slapped my knee, her eyes growing ever sharper. "Don't be cheeky."

Alice cleared her throat. "Dear Raven and Alice, Sorry I can't be with you—you were wrong Raven!"

"Knock it off children."

Alice suppressed her giggles. I had more trouble hiding my smirk, so I bent my head low.

Alice continued to read, "May you find entertainment, and knowledge in history; discovering that which sport and school cannot convey. Love, Dad." She looked at Mum for an explanation.

"History books," I whispered to Alice, though Mum heard.

Mum leaned back and looked down her nose at me. "Do you have to ruin all presents? Alright open up."

Alice continued to tare hers open, but I waited for her to finish before touching mine. Under the wrappings was a large green leather-bound book. Embossed on the front cover were the words Quidditch Through the Ages: The Extended Addition and the authors name Kennilworthy Whisp, along with A special forward from Ginevra Potter.

Alice's blue eyes opened to the widest they could get and she let out a happy gasp. Throwing her arms up in the air she hugged mother. As she thanked Mum profusely the book slid out of her lap and fell towards the street. I snapped my wand towards it and the book zoomed towards me. It hit me rather hard in the chest.

There was a pause where both Alice and Mum looked at me. Mum struggled to find her words for a moment but soon a strong rebuke followed with Mum reminding me not to use magic outside of school. I didn't bother trying to explain I hadn't meant to, and that even if I had, a non-verbal spell would be exceptionally difficult for a first-time wand-er. I just apologized, thumbed through the book for a moment, then handed it back to Alice.

I pried each sealed section of the wrapping open and carefully slid out the book before Mum tutted and crumpled the paper up. "Honestly Raven, be quick. We have to travel all the way up to Crail."

Underneath the wrapping was a brown leather book, cracked and musty smelling. In the middle of the book was a crest with a Lion, a Serpent, a Badger, and an Eagle. The letter H sat in the middle of them. Hogwart's crest, which meant this was the book Hogwarts: A History—a book I'd searched for multiple times in my Father's study and never found.

"There's an inscription," Mum said, leaning to see.

I opened the book, which cracked. On the immediate page behind the cover were three inscriptions. Two were in black ink and both addressed to Charles, and signed Charles as well. They were the inscriptions of my great-grandfather, Charles the Ninth, giving the book to my grandfather, Charles the Tenth, and that same grandfather giving the book to my father, Charles the Eleventh. My father's inscription was beneath those and written in in Silver ink.

"To Raven and Alice," I read, "This copy of Hogwarts: A History, has been passed down from generation to generation since my Paternal Grandfather, Charles IX, purchased it from Flourish and Blotts on their opening day, just before he started Hogwarts. It's a book I read so often, I've brought it with me on all my travels—though now, having memorized most of it, I gladly pass it on to you both to celebrate your start at this most beloved school."

This was a much better send off than his little riddle note. I smiled at it. "Love, Charles, parenthesis, Dad."

My mother pointed beneath his signature. "There's a post-script."

I read it aloud. "P.S. Plus I can get myself a new copy now." Very funny Father. And another post-script beneath that read, "P.P.S. You'll need to check out another copy from the Library if you want to know anything past Eighteen eighty-two." Thanks. At least I had the book though.

I gave Mum the obligatory hug, and tried to hand Alice the book, but she was already looking through Quidditch Through the Ages and only looked up when mother said, "One more thing before we go."

How many surprises could she have planned? But my heart leapt. Was she going to allow us to go into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?2

"Now your Father tells me that there are school Owls that you can send letters with and such. And since you already have a pet in Mochi, we needn't bother buying you one." Alice looked crestfallen, but I already knew as much. Money was tight. "However," my eyelids felt glued open, "we don't own an owl either, now that your Dad sends emails. And I don't rely on Muggle mail to somehow poof into Hogwarts. Plus, I hear personal Owls can figure out when loved ones want to send their owners letters and such. So," she said it with such ferocity, "I will be purchasing you two an owl." She looked between us once more. "To—"

"Share," Alice and I both said.

"If you're going to act like that," Mother said, "I won't bother—"

A barrage of no's flew out of Alice's mouth. "We'll behave!"

And off Alice went, skipping towards the nearest shop Owl shop, her book tucked under her armpit. Mother picked up the rest of the gift wrap and tossed it into a bin as I waited for her. She took my book from me and slid it into her shopping bag, taking my hand. Tempted as I was to throw it off, I kept hold of it—she was, after all, buying us an owl.

By the time we had followed Alice into the shop, she'd already found an owl. I spotted her, down to the left, behind the storefront window, oohing and ahhing over a little puff of gray feathers. I should've raced Alice into the shop. There would be no input from me if Alice had already fallen in love.

"Mom! Mom!" Alice called over. She practically danced as Mother strolled over to her. "This one. It's a baby snowy owl. We'll call her Athena and she'll be just beautiful. Ask the…her—"Alice pointed to an older woman with short gray hair and half-moon spectacles "she said this bird is amazing."

I expected my mother to show the same disinterest in a baby owl I felt. We'd need an adult, ready to carry mail for Hogwarts. Instead I saw this sickening expression of adoration for the owl.

"It's true," the woman said. "This bird has already shown signs of being very smart, and her light coloration this early means she'll be almost completely white—"

I stopped paying attention. Though convinced that was the owl we would be purchasing, I started to walk around the shop looking at each owl. There was racket in the back of the shop, near the register. A small black owl with a round head, and round facial discs, screamed. It jutted back and forth, swinging its cage. I covered my ears before the owner pointed her wand at the bird and shouted "Silencio," and the bird became mute, though its beak continued to open.

"Been doing that ever since I got it. A menace that bird," the owner said, peering over her glasses at it. "Couldn't get rid of it fast enough. Worst part is, it's become immune to my charm, starts bellowing every couple minutes."

"You're sure that she'll be read to fly by the time school starts?" my mother asked, returning to the topic of the baby snowy owl.

"Absolutely, and she'll carry big packages in a month or two."

I walked over to the black owl. It shut its beak and looked down at me, tilting its head almost upside down. I reached for the tag hanging down from the side of the cage—had to go on my tiptoes to get it—and read, "Ural Owl, Nine Months Old, Male." I wondered what made the Owl so discontent. I looked up into his eyes and blinked. He blinked back and reached his head even lower, pressing it into the bars of the cage. He gave out a small squeak—I could hear it. Then he straightened up, puffed up, and pooped.

I was ushered away from the bird by the shop owner as she brought the baby snowy owl to the counter and rung up my Mum. They had decided to buy the owl, and I was sure the name "Athena" would stick.

While I waited on a stool by the counter, I kept watching the black Ural, and he did the same. His eyes never left me, and it only ever blinked when I blinked. I enjoyed watching him lean when I leaned and straighten when I straightened. I tilted my head and he tilted his. I giggled when he lost balance and fell over. He did not. He ruffled his feathers, squinting at me. I stopped laughing.

But mother had paid for our new Athena, and it was time to go. I stood to leave with them and the Ural went berserk. It attempted to fly in its cage and crashed into the bars. It shrieked, and the owner pointed her wand at it again. But the charm only lasted seconds before we heard it yell again. Before I knew what I was doing, my wand pointed at the cage. The door burst open and the Ural flew straight for me. The owner yelled to duck, which my mother and sister did. But I stood straight. The owl flew to me, then turned in the air, and landed on my shoulder, it's little talons sinking into my skin. The owl began to chew on my shoulder-length hair.

Mum tried to shoo the bird off me, but it snapped at her fingers. The owner didn't dare try a summoning charm while he clung to me, but she did attempt to physically remove him. He did not budge.

"Excuse the pun, but he's certainly attached to you," the owner said, once again peering over her glasses. She looked to mother. "You mind taking him off my hands? I'll give him to you for a knut." And in moments I was carrying out my own owl, "Newt" perfectly silent, and rubbing his head against the hand wrapped around his bars.

Alice skipped alongside me, holding Athena's cage likewise—one arm underneath, one around the cage—while Athena slept. "You've had a pretty good day," she said. "New wand, and a new owl."

"Same as you," I responded.

Mum was behind us, looking at her phone for how to get back to Kings Cross. "Train leaves in a half hour, we better hurry. I'll order a taxi," she called.

"Yeah but yours are different," she said. She might as well have said better.

I shrugged. "At least I finally got to name a pet." She stopped skipping, or walking, and stayed still as I continued through the bricks. I brushed Newt's beak away from a clear button on my chest pocket, and stepped through the archway towards the Leaky Cauldron.

1 Well, not my wand. But my interim wand.

2 She'd been adamant that we were not allowed in that shop, or to buy anything ever from them.