Chapter 17 - Some Good 'Advice'

"You've lost some amount o' weight!" proclaimed Thalia breathlessly, jostling Hannah as they raced up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Long….story….." panted Hannah, jostling her right back.

It took a few seconds of gasping and spluttering before either of them were capable of speech. Thalia was the first to enunciate and, as usual, she was full of questions.

"Whit's been happening? Did yer Mum tell ye Nina Reston's pregnant? How's auld Susie? And whit about Ernie? How's he? Oh, d'ye know auld Mr Humphrey died? AND YE'LL NEVER GUESS WHIT? MR MCMOONEY'S BEEN FIRED! He was going out with a sixth year - that bitch Judith O'Neill! Oh by the way how d'ye do in yer exams? Whit one's d'ye sit? Did ye get a new teacher for… thingy? Whit about that guy ye fancied - Melville?"

Hannah smiled indulgently. She was used to all Lia's inquiries coming at once and was quite practised in memorising them and answering them in order.

"Lots, No, Good, Good too, Yes - Marilyn wrote to me, No Way! I've always thought he was a bit creepy, Don't know about the exams - still to find out, I sat Transfiguration, Charms, Muggle Studies, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Herbology, Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures, Yes Professor Umbrige and she's even worse than Mrs Jenkins used to be (Thalia gasped in mock astonishment), and Neville and I …are going out." she finished shyly.

The screams and banging were so loud that Aileen Abbot had to go upstairs to check that Miss Amarante was not being "battered" by her daughter. Once she was finally convinced that all of the young girl's mental facilities were in perfect working order and she was just a bit excited, she went back downstairs to make the tea and comment to her husband on the strangeness of teenagers.

"Oh, Hannah, that is so amazing, I cannae believe it! Since when? How come ye didnae write and tell me? Does yer family know? Does his? How did it happen? Oh, I'll shut up now if ye tell me everything!" She crossed her legs and cocked her head to one side listening intently.

And Hannah told her the whole story, Thalia changing her facial expressions accordingly.

"So then I sent him back a note saying thank you for the poem and everything but I also said it was best not to send me an Owl at home, and I don't know when I'd see him again……."

"Well, that's that then. (What?) You're just gonnae have to Owl him." Thalia stated matter of a factly, aware that Hannah did not have an Owl but unable to see why this was a problem. They had to sell them somewhere.

"But.."

Just as Hannah was searching for a way to explain this to her friend without putting her down, a scream far superior to Thalia's earlier cacophony cut her off. Terrified something horrific was taking place in her kitchen, Hannah streaked downstairs, her best friend behind her, to find an owl in her kitchen. Her mother was sobbing into her father's shoulders while Clark was trying to "shoo" the slightly scatty looking bird. Aileen Byrne had seen "Birds" at a very young age and now was unable to have even a budgie in the same room as her. It was also evidently a fear she had passed on as Hannah noticed Marilyn holding Orson and cowering behind a less-than-happy Ava.

Hannah had seen this bird enough times now to recognise it as Ingram - whose visit's had always led to good things.

"Well that's one problem solved. Now how do I convince my Mum to let him stay in the house a bit longer?"

An hour later, Hannah was once again running downstairs but instead of following screams into the kitchen, she opened the front door and making her way round the house to the garden shed. She opened the door to find a pretty dark-headed teenager conversing happily with an aging, slightly crazy owl.

"I've finished. Here attach it to his leg."

Thalia did, but not without reading it first.

"It took you the better part of an hour to come up with: 'Thanks for the letter. See you again soon. Love Hannah.?" she giggled, fiddling with Ingram's catch. She stopped. She glanced at Hannah before diving into her handbag.

"I've got a much better idea." She snickered, emerging with pen and paper and a huge grin.

"Oh, don't you dare."

Donald Abbot was in the living room looking at his wife who had fallen asleep - exhausted from her ordeal - and could clearly hear the laughter and excited squeals coming from the shed. He ignored it. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaad" called Marilyn plaintively from upstairs.

"I'm getting too old for all this." He thought before trudging up the steps.

A/N: 'auld' old

' battered' beaten up

Just thought I should translate some Scottish words.