Owls Bearing O.W.L.s

It was the middle of July, but Hermione Granger’s damp palms had nothing to do with the humidity of the season. Nor were they the result of fear of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, or consequence of stress from the newly-risen panic circulating throughout the wizarding world.

Upon returning home, she’d taken to awakening hours earlier than the rest of the house, pacing the halls, opening and closing windows, or occasionally sitting very still with an unopened book on her lap. She’d written many cryptic letters to her friends that bore only a single line: “Have you gotten them yet?”

“She’s finally up and cracked,” Ron Weasley regularly told his brothers and sister after receiving such an owl. “I always thought it’d be sooner rather than later, just not quite this soon.”

The third Monday of the month, Hermione sat tensely at the kitchen table, systematically tapping her fingernails against the kitchen table or biting them to the quick. Her untouched breakfast peered up at her warily. Her parents watched from the door frame, but wisely restrained themselves from voicing their concerns. It wasn’t unusual for Hermione to go into these post-exam trances. They'd long since learned that the only thing to do was wait it out.

A sudden swoosh jolted Hermione from her seat: the unmistakable sound of flapping wings approached the house. She ran forward to meet the dark brown barn owl, who, upon glimpsing Hermione's fixed determination, gave a squawk of fear and flew up to the ceiling, where it rested on a light fixture and refused to come down.

“Oh!” said Hermione desperately, and she made to grab at the owl’s tail, which did nothing to inspire it to fly down again. “Please! My mail!” she tried, but the owl merely regarded her coolly and preened a feather that'd been ruffled on its mad dash up.

For the next half hour, all three Grangers made various attempts to catch either the owl or what it held. The owl amused himself by taking a piece of mail into his beak and sporadically releasing it, gracefully diving down to retrieve it when it was inches from Hermione's outstretched fingers. At the 6th installment of this game, Hermione threw her hands up in frustration. “As soon as we get back to school I’m going to hunt you down and Stun you good!” Amazingly, the owl then deigned to drop a single piece of mail from its beak.

Hermione grabbed at the parchment eagerly, but her face immediately fell – it wasn’t her O.W.L. results, but only the latest edition of The Quibbler, which Hermione had subscribed to out of some strange sense of loyalty to Luna Lovegood.

She slapped it onto the table in frustration, and despite herself, a picture caught her eye and she leaned forward to better see it. She gave a start.

The photo was of Luna Lovegood herself, waving dreamily up at Hermione and standing between a tall, thin man and a… a….

“Hermione, are you all right?” her mother asked in alarm, for Hermione had let out a little gasp and then clapped her hands tightly over her mouth.

“It can’t be,” Hermione whispered in answer. Her eyes flew to the caption, which read, “Luna Lovegood (center) and father, Martin Lovegood, with what has been called 'The Find of the Century,'” and which was followed by this article:

Lovegood Gets the Goods
How Faith Made Their Fortune

For hundreds of years, the existance of the elusive Crumple-Horned Snorkack has widely been denied, and claims of sightings immediately dismissed or blamed on intoxication. Respected Researcher of Magical Creatures, Richard Blumkidd, has been quoted as declaring, “The Crumple-Horned Snorkack is a myth. Anyone hoping to ‘discover’ this creature would have a better go at finding a Grizzly-Tailed Quackdoddle.” (see page 17 for more information regarding the Grizzly-Tailed Quackdoddle and its most recent sightings near Cambridge.) Blumkidd’s opinions have never before been disputed, and the majority of the wizarding world have always agreed with his feelings regarding the Snorkack.

BUT SHOULD THEY?

Obviously not, is the opinion of this newspaper, especially in light of recent findings made by Martin Lovegood, 38, and his daughter Luna Lovegood, aged 14. On a recent expedition to Sweden, a popular sighting-place for the Snorkack, the Lovegoods awoke in their campground one morning to find this Crumple-Horned Snorkack (above, far right) calmly ingesting the contents of their food bag, which they had left open in hopes of luring out one of the magestic creatures.

“We think it abandoned its harferd,” Luna explained. “It might’ve been looking for a new family, and that’s why it was so eager to make friends.”

“That, or it was contemplating eating us,” Martin added. “What a find, eh?”

The Lovegoods are currently being approached by a myriad of parties interested in their find, and will soon be interviewed for the book, Mythical Beings and Where to Find Them.

For more exciting exclusive pictures, see pages 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, and 22.

Hermione leaned back in her chair and said nothing. Meanwhile, her father let out a whoop of triumph. The brown owl, grown bored with its game of keep-away, had dropped its remaining holdings unceremoniously and flown out of the house. “Got it!”

“Honey, look,” her mother said in excitement, showing her an envelope bearing the official Hogwarts seal. “Your exams!”

“Thanks, Mum. Dad,” Hermione said automatically, but did not reach for the envelope. She stood up slowly. “I think I’ll open it later.”

“Hermione?” her mother asked, eyebrows shooting up. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes, yes,” Hermione said distractedly. “Just a bit of a headache coming on. I think I should lie down.”

With that, she left the room to her parents, who were gawping after her. From her place on the kitchen table, Luna Lovegood smiled.