Butterfly Effect ; H. Potter

38. the yule ball.

Ron's tiny owl was twittering madly on the top of the icicle-laden banisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. People passing him were pointing and laughing, and a group of third-year girls paused and said, "Oh, look at the weeny owl! Isn't he cute?"

"Stupid little feathery git!" Ron hissed, hurrying up the stairs and snatching Pigwidgeon up. "You bring letters straight to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off!"

Pigwidgeon hooted happily, his head protruding over Ron's fist. The third-year girls all looked very shocked.

"Clear off!" Ron snapped at them, waving the fist holding Pigwidgeon, who hooted more happily than ever as he soared through the air. "Here – take it, Harry," Ron added in an undertone, as the third-year girls scuttled away looking scandalised. He pulled Sirius' reply off Pigwidgeon's leg, Harry pocketed it, and they hurried back to Gryffindor Tower to read it.

Everyone in the common room was much too busy letting off more holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to. Harry, Antheia, Ron and Hermione sat apart from everyone else by a dark window that was gradually filling up with snow, and Harry read out:

Dear Harry,

Congratulations on getting past the Horntail, whoever put your name in that Goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitis curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point –

"Krum did that!" Hermione whispered.

– but your way was better, I'm impressed.

Don't get complacent, though, Harry. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the Tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open – particularly when the person we discussed is around – and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble.

Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual.

Sirius

"He sounds exactly like Moody," said Harry quietly, tucking the letter away again inside his robes, "'Constant vigilance!' You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls ..."

"He's right, Harry," said Antheia, 'you've still got two tasks to do and you have to stay safe."

"You really ought to have a look at that egg, you know, and start working out what it means ..." said Hermione.

"Hermione, he's got ages!" snapped Ron. "Want a game of chess, Harry?"

"Yeah, OK," said Harry. Then, spotting the look on Hermione's face, he said, "Come on, how'm I supposed to concentrate with all this noise going on? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot."

"Oh, I suppose not," she sighed, and she sat down to watch their chess match with Antheia, which culminated in an exciting checkmate of Ron's, involving a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.

─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─

Harry awoke very suddenly on Christmas Day. Wondering what had caused his abrupt return to consciousness, he opened his eyes, and saw something with very large, round, green eyes staring back at him in the darkness, so close they were almost nose to nose.

"Dobby!" Harry yelled, scrambling away from the elf so fast he almost fell out of bed. "Don't do that!"

"Dobby is sorry, sir!" squeaked Dobby anxiously, jumping backwards with his long fingers over his mouth. "Dobby is only wanting to wish Harry Potter 'Merry Christmas' and bring him a present, sir! Harry Potter did say Dobby could come and see him sometimes, sir!"