A/N: I am so glad I figured out how to post another chapter. I'm also happy that people actually reviewed and said they liked it! It is an amazing feeling, being complimented on something you enjoy doing.

I promise you'll see more goblins soon. This story isn't called The Year of the Goblins for nothing.

Anyways, here's the chapter:

Chapter 3: Cows, Owls, and Cats, Oh My!

A boy, almost of 16 years, with raven black hair and bright green eyes sat at his desk at 9 o'clock at night doing his schoolwork.

There was nothing strange about the boy, except for the fact that he was not working out mathematic problems, but was answering questions for one of his favorite classes, Care of Magical Creatures.

He looked up from his parchment to study the question for a second time.

21. What it the significance of the Mooncalf's trails in fields of grain? Explain why Leonard the Lunar captured these beasts.

Harry Potter sighed and thought, 'Hermione must have gotten to Hagrid about his lesson plans again. She probably even wrote out the questions for him.'

He chuckled. 'She's probably already done with them, too!'

Harry nibbled on the tip of his quill in thought, and then set to writing:

Mooncalves create designs in fields of grain to communicate with…

Suddenly there was a thump behind him.

Harry whirled around to find Errol, the Weasley family's decrepit, old grey owl hanging on to the outside windowsill by a claw.

Harry quickly stood up and dashed to open the window to let the miserable owl inside. Since Errol didn't have the strength to lift himself up, Harry had to grab the senile bird and transport him to his desk.

Harry noticed a letter was tied to his leg and took it off.

Errol hooted weary thanks and glided into Hedwig's cage. Hedwig shifted aside to make room for him. Errol plunged his beak into the water tray immediately and drank the cool water. Hedwig watched him concernedly.

Harry opened the letter and read:

Hey Harry!

If you're wondering how Errol came to be delivering my messages, I'll tell you. Pig accidentally ate some Blue Arboravis tree seeds that Mum was going to plant in our garden. He probably thought they were his favorite flavor of Bertie Bott's, which is soap

I don't know why he likes soap-flavored beans, so don't ask me.

Anyways, now he keeps turning into a miniature Blue Arboravis tree every time he hoots, which is often because he is a hyper-active little owl. He's driving me nutters.

We're going to take him to the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley to se if they have anything to cure him.

Mum's angry that our school letters and O.W.L. results haven't arrived yet. She says she sees no reason why we should have to go to 'that horrid jungle' twice in one summer.

I don't really mind going to Diagon Alley now that Fred and George have opened a shop there. I can finally stock up on Skiving Snackboxes for the school year!

I'm glad my school letter hasn't come yet. When it gets here Mum's going to have a fit when she sees my O.W.L. results. I know I did well in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I'm worried about Potions and Transfiguration. If I didn't do well in either of those, I can kiss my dreams of being an Auror good-bye. Owl me if you get you O.W.L. results.

I keep asking Mum if you can some over here. Yesterday she finally asked Professor Dumbledore and he said you could come in two weeks. I can't wait!

Hermione is still at her parents' house. You won't believe what she's taught her mad cat to do now. She's taught him how to deliver letters! One day I heard this scratching noise at the kitchen door and I looked out to find a humongous fuzz ball meowing, "Rowr! Rowr!" As it turns out, that's what he calls me. It's weird being talked to by a cat. It's not natural. Hermione says it wasn't that difficult to teach him how to deliver letters and say our names. I still think that cat is mad. She'll probably send you a letter by cat, too, so watch out for big fuzz ball with a smashed in snout.

I'll keep writing to you till you can come here.

Your friend,

Ron Weasley

Harry smiled at the thought of a mail-delivering cat and immediately looked out his bedroom window.

Harry saw no sign of a ginger cat, but he did see a brown tabby cat with spectacle markings around its eyes.

'McGonagall', he thought, grimly. 'Come to se if I've been taken away by Death Eaters. Come to check on me.'

He opened the window and let the fresh summer breeze flow into his room.

Errol, upon seeing the open window, shuffled his feathers, adjusted his wings and prepared for a take-off. Unfortunately, the senile owl was still in Hedwig's cage, and, when he deemed the conditions perfect for flying, consequently crashed into the side of the cage with a resounding noise.

"Boy!" an angry voice roared from downstairs. "What are you doing up there?"

"Nothing," Harry replied with an innocent tone.

Of course, he was right, but telling his easily irritated uncle that an old, feeble Wizarding owl smashed into his window and then into a wire cage would only make him angrier.

His summer with the Dursley's was relatively nice, if you could call being ignored all day long 'nice'. Aunt Petunia and Dudley avoided him like he was the Bubonic Plague.

Aunt Petunia was especially jumpy. It was if she suspected a wizard or witch to pop out from under a bush and hex her into oblivion. She was suspicious of her own mouth, lest it utter something like it did the summer before about the Wizarding world. When she was out in her garden, keeping her herbs and flowers neat and proper, she turned her head to look around every 15 minutes. Anything and everything even remotely related to magic (like broomsticks, cats, toads, tea cups, etc.) caused her to panic and feel dizzy.

Dudley was just plain scared. He didn't taunt Harry (for which Harry was grateful), nor did he say anything about the Dementor Incident of last summer.

Uncle Vernon was his usual grouchy-self, except for the fact that whenever he saw something fly by the window (not just owls, but all birds, and even leaves) he was sent into a frenzy and ranted on and on about owls.

Harry opened the owl cage door for Errol. Errol hooted some thanks and swooped out the window.

Harry immediately heard a shout: "Owls! Owls! More bloody OWLS", followed by sharp gasp and a whimper.

Harry sighed and returned to his Care of Magical Creature's essay questions. 'Just another typical day at the Dursley household,' he thought.

Harry worked on into the night. He looked at his desk clock, something Dudley was given when he turned 14 and didn't want, which read 10:00 pm.

'Wow,' he thought sarcastically. 'Time flies when you're writing about Fritz Zwicky and his contribution to Muggle science.'

Harry closed his textbook and went to sit on his bed. He opened the Quidditch section in the Daily Prophet and began reading the scores of the latest Quidditch matches. He read an article about Ron's favorite team, the Chudley Cannons. In the article it stated that the team had finally broken the record for the most consecutive matches lost, which was 399, but now was changed to 400. Next to the article was a picture of the winning team's (Puddlemere United) keeper, Oliver Wood. Wood looked ecstatic and kept punching the air with his fist whilst the rest of his teammates just smiled in the background.

Harry smiled to himself. Oliver wood always was one to over react when a win occurred. He knew Wood was one of the best Quidditch Captains and Keepers Hogwarts ever saw. Now, being a professional Quidditch player, he was truly an awesome player.

A/N: If you would like to learn more about Fritz Zwicky (yes, he was a real person) I suggest you read this book: A Brief History of Just About Everything by Bill Bryson.

I really liked this chapter,

And I hope you do, too.

This is my plea,

Just read and review.

Ha! That just spilled out of my mind! Maybe I should just tell the rest of the story in song? ………… Nah!