--pokes up head nervously-- um, whoops? I blame the 5 AP tests.

They left the Ollivander's at the break of dusk. Neither the long shadows, nor the feeling of unease that drifted from the ajar shop door could claim responsibility for the drawn look of Severus's face. He walked down the alley with his hand upon a small shoulder, unsure whether he guided or was being led. Fairy tales trapped his mind, and, inevitably, the faint memories of his mother came to haunt. There wasn't much that hadn't been corrupted by his life, but her hair, woven into the dark, and her soft tellings of the Founders' war against the Elves remained in a confused haze, like the trapped smoke left behind after the candlelight had been snuffed out.

She had never spoken of the horrors. Those, of course, belonged to life and not to stories.

A loud, clucking squawk came within range of hearing, and, surfacing from his thoughts, he raised his gaze to see a very large barn owl attempting to shrink back into the size of an egg. The source of the screeching was a small bird that, for some reason, made him think of a Weasley Howler.

——

Fen pressed his hands against the sides of his head when a particularly impressive blast assaulted his ears. He peered through his wince and saw Nibble looking miserable. It probably had something to do with the hysteric owl a few feet down the perch from her.

"OSPREY AND REDTAIL DROPPED PACKAGES TO GO LOOKING FOR YOU! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! ATHENA ARCHIMEDES—"

Nibble looked away and spotted him. "Fen?"

"—I DON'T CARE ABOUT SWAMPLAND, YOU IRRESPONSIBLE—"

"FEN!" Nibble's exuberant call was the boy's only warning before she launched herself at him. He raised his arm, something he was doing a lot lately, and she alighted on it with her customary downbeat of wings that nearly blew him off his feet.

"FEN! YOU'RE BACK!" she whooped. "WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!"

His face erupted in confusion and terror when she reached forward and began to nibble affectionately on his ear lobe. Then she hooted under her breath, "Just pretend that I'm your owl for ten wing beats and your ears won't become owl pellets. Deal? Perfect." She raised her voice. "Oh, Mother! This is Fen, my boy. I would have told you about him sooner, but, well, I couldn't get a word in. He's going to Hogwarts. We really must get going. Dreadfully late. It was nice catching up, though! —Get me out of here!" she added to Fen in a hiss, and Fen dutifully, if hesitantly, tugged on Professor Snape's sleeve.

Severus had been staring at the gobsmacked owl tied to the perch before the Owl Emporium. It had keeled over backwards and was currently dangling by its tethered foot with its beak ajar. At the tug of his robe, he glanced down at Fenrir. Lording over the boy's upper arm and shoulder was the large, insane barn owl. His gaze drifted back to the upside-down owl that was swaying like a pendulum. Suddenly, Fenrir's bird didn't seem quite so cracked. Quite.

He sighed and pulled out the short letter from his pocket. He had been planning to ship it via normal owl post, but his sanity might rely on his keeping a minimum amount of contact with the homicidal bird that had obviously grown attached to the boy.

"Fenrir," he said, "I need to borrow your carrier pigeon."

——

Nibble was wishing for teeth merely so she could grind them together. Carrier pigeon! That aggravating man. His relation to Boom Stick Man was unmistakable. That family's only reason for existence was to get under her feathers. She seethed as she swooped across London. She should have bitten his head off!

Why hadn't she? Oh, yes. Her mother. Had it been worth it, though, to play the kept owl and avoid being screeched at for the rest of her life? The professor's letter clunked annoyingly against her leg, right on cue. She grumbled to herself as she headed for the rising column of smoke that the Muggle population thought came from a factory. Well, this day couldn't get any worse, now could it?

To her relief, it didn't, or at least not immediately, it didn't. She ducked in through an open window just as another bird swooped out. Then she cursed as she faced off against her old nemesis. It annoyed her almost as much as the Snape men did, and she was even more helpless against it than she was against her mother. She landed on a sturdy chair back and glared at the monstrosity.

Stupid doorknob.

"Er…"

She swiveled her head around. Behind her, a bug-eyed man sat glued to his seat. His clothes were nearly as shabby as Henry's, though time seemed to have made them that way instead of exuberance. The robes had been a nice, light shade of something or other at some point in their life, but they had long since faded to an odd gray-brown. Currently, the only thing colorful about the human was his red hair.

The vibrant shade didn't interest her nearly so much, though, as did his opposable thumbs.

——

Arthur Weasley sighed. Ministry of Magic Department Head turned Post Owl's Official Knob Turner. Yes, his career prospects were definitely looking up. At least the insane, somewhat terrifying owl was helping him not think about Severus Snape's…

Arthur Weasley shuddered.

——

When the doors to the governing chamber opened Adelle wanted to melt back into the shadows, fuse with them, and never leave. Instead she forced herself to stand still in the hall and wait for the slim, dark-haired Adonis Nott to step out of the recessed area. Clutching at Mr. Snape's note seemed to calm her nerves somewhat. She eventually spotted him heading towards the exit at a brisk walk and moved to intercept him before her nervousness could paralyze her.

"Lord Nott?" she asked nervously. He didn't slow any, but at least he glanced her way cursorily. "I was hoping that I might speak with you." She got the feeling he was ready to brush her off like an infinitesimal speck of soot. Snape's advice seared through her brain at the last possible moment. Right as his expression darkened and he opened his mouth, she quickly added, "My name is Adelle Dubois."

He stopped. Would it be improper for her to jump and scream for joy? He stopped!

"Any relation to Rowan Lairc Dubois?" His tone was light, and she caught him eyeing her robes' thread count.

She frowned. "My father was Rowan Lammas Dubois."

His lips turned upwards in an affable smile. "Ah, yes. My mistake. You wished to speak to me?"

Her brain eventually remembered to let her blink. She shook herself slightly. Bad time to get caught up by the intent gaze of dark eyes set darker lashes. Also a bad time for her throat to decide to constrict. In self-preservation, she held out the professor's letter.

He took it. The mangled edges of the Hogwarts envelope caught his eye before he noticed Severus Snape's angular handwriting. Adelle tried not to bite her upper lip as he gave the missive a quarter turn and swept his gaze down the narrow column of words. She watched his expression darken with every inch and prayed that none of his ire would be taken out on her.

An owl's hooting at her back broke her from her thoughts. She turned to watch a large, striking bird launch from an uplifted arm and wing her way. A folded parchment spiraled down into her hands.

Miss Adelle Dubois
Department of Child Services
The Ministry of Magic

She frowned at the precise, angular script, which she recognized as Mr. Snape's, and hesitated before she unfolded the letter and skimmed through the short message inside. Then she glared at the owl that now perched atop the head of a statue, much to the stone wizard's displeasure. The letter crushed in her hand.

Elfin bone. The boy's wand was made of elfin bone, and it was the Ministry's responsibility to pay.

Well. This would make her job go up in flames nicely.