Yo. Sorry this is so short. I tried making it a little longer, but I love the end-off point and didn't want to go beyond it. Thank you to all readers so far!

Harry had been quite surprised when the Order suddenly turned up at Number Four in the morning, claiming they were taking him to Grimmauld Place now. He'd assumed he was going to be stuck at Privet Drive all summer. Dumbledore had essentially told him as much, but no one said why he suddenly changed his mind, no matter how many times he asked.

Still, even though he went with them without complaint, this was one of the last places he wanted to be in right now. Grimmauld Place, to Sirius, had been what Privet Drive was to Harry. His godfather had been imprisoned here, even after having broken out of Azkaban, and had been forced to stay hidden, despite his obvious innocence. Harry hated that constant reminder more than anything.

So, as a distraction, he borrowed Ron's owl Pig (since Hedwig was out hunting), and sent him off to Voldemort with a letter, curious to know what the Dark Lord would do about the Furby, since he didn't know how to counter the spells placed on it by the twins.


"Oh, there you are, mate!"

Harry blinked and looked up from Hermione's copy of The Fellowship of the Ring, which she had cautiously sent to him via Hedwig upon his insistence after the sudden and unexpected urge to read the series. Ron had just walked into the room, his tiny owl perched on his shoulder, shivering.

"Hey, er-what's wrong with Pig?" asked Harry curiously. The owl looked rather...traumatized.

Ron merely shrugged. "No idea. He's been like that since he got back. But he's got a response from whoever you wrote to," he said, passing the small sheet of parchment over.

Harry didn't bother asking if he or anyone else had read it first. Privacy wasn't something that existed around here, irritatingly enough. Well, his privacy, at least. Instead, he turned his attention to the letter, blinking in surprise when he saw there was only a single sentence written down in that familiar, elegant hand.

'The Furby is alive.'

"Ah...well, shit."

That's it for now. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!