Black Owls

Ron Weasley was standing at his small stove, cooking breakfast. Bacon and eggs were sizzling away merrily as Ron whistled happily. Hermione was still abed, and the twins, by some miracle, were sleeping peacefully. The only dark spot on Ron's good mood was the lack of one of his best friends in his life. He took heart though, that even if Harry weren't there to share in the joy of his newborn twins, that maybe, just maybe, he knew anyway. People in comas were supposed to be able to hear when you talked to them, and Ron had, just last night, told Harry the good news.

A tapping at the kitchen window broke into Ron's thoughts, stopping his cheerful whistling in mid-tune. Thinking, perhaps, the owl carrying the Prophet had come early, he simply opened the window to let it in. A large black owl swooped into the kitchen, but instead of dropping The Daily Prophet, it dropped a black envelope, the seal of St. Mungo's clearly displayed on its back. Without stopping to rest, the owl left.

Confused, Ron abandoned his cooking, taking a seat at the table and examining the envelope. On the front, silvery letters snaked across the page.

Carefully, Ron broke the seal and pulled out the letter. This too was black parchment, silvery letters flowing down the page. Ron sat silently reading the letter.

He didn't move when the bacon started to burn. He didn't move when the eggs caught fire, sending a thick, black smoke pouring into the air.

Hermione came pounding down the stairs, wand gripped firmly in hand. A few flicks and the mess on the stove was gone.

"Ron?" she cautiously pulled up a chair next to her husband, wondering what could have distracted him so.

Wordlessly, Ron slid the black parchment towards his wife. Hermione's eyes quickly took in the information on the paper and sent them to her marvellously quick brain. After reading, it took her a few moments to finally figure out what the letter was trying to tell her.

She burst into tears, clinging desperately to her husband. No amount of wand waving would fix this...

Ginny Weasley was picking up the milk bottles from the front stoop when her husband-to-be called her. When she found him in the kitchen, he was holding a black letter and frowning.

When he heard his fiancée enter, Neville looked up. He held the letter carefully out to Ginny. "A black owl just delivered it." There was a tremor in his voice Ginny hadn't heard since his Grandmother's funeral. "I'm sorry Ginny."

Ginny took the letter one-handed, the bottle of milk clasped tightly in her grasp. As her eyes roved down over the silvery ink, the milk slipped away, shattering irreparably against the cold, hard, uncaring floor.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was sitting at her desk, reading through the various reports on her desk when an insistent tapping pulled her attention to the window.

She looked up and paled. A black owl was flapping frantically, trying to get in. The world spun as her mind pointed out that it could be a student prank, that she didn't have anyone left to receive a black owl for.

Vowing revenge most terrible when she found out the culprit, she flung open the window. The black owl, perhaps sensing her mood, flew over her head, dropped the letter on her desk, and took off.

McGonagall, thoughts of vengeance still in mind, stalked back to her desk and ripped open the letter. Her eyes quickly scanned the parchment. She blinked, her eyes returning to the top of the letter as she sank bonelessly into her chair. This time her eyes lingered over every word, the meaning searing into her brain.

A drop fell onto the letter, making the ink run. Many more would soon follow.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in his office, grading papers and wondering if, perhaps, Snape had ever had to put up with this level of, well, stupidity was the only word that came to mind. Unfortunately, it seemed most of it came from the Slyerthins, as if they were hoping their head of house would look the other way.

Someone knocked at his door. He looked up, wondering if perhaps it was later than he had thought. The lack of windows sometimes made time behave in strange ways in his dungeon office. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was still early.

Another knock. Perhaps it was a student, coming for extra help. Draco snorted. Doubtful. They were almost as afraid of him as they had been of Snape. Though he knew it was for entirely different reasons.

"Come in!" he called, hoping they would just let themselves in. Or perhaps give up and leave him be.

More knocking. It seemed almost frantic now, as if whomever was on the other side desperately needed to be let in.

Draco stood and made his way to the door, grumbling about students being too incompetent to turn a doorknob.

"Yes, what is it?" he turned a full glare to his early morning visitor, only to realize he was wasting it on a rather large black owl.

The owl swooped past him, dropping an envelope on his desk before taking off to parts unknown. It didn't even take the time to give him a reprimanding hoot for his rudeness.

Draco slammed the heavy door closed behind it, muttering about bloody impatient birds that couldn't wait for a decent hour to make deliveries.

He picked up the letter and ripped through the seal, quickly reading over the message contained within. His naturally pale complexion went even paler as he reached the end.

Wordlessly, he dropped the letter onto his desk, where it seemed to stare at him, its message condemning him for things long past.

He walked to his fireplace, almost mechanically. He tossed a handful of floo powder into the small fire, stepping in and whispering his destination as the green flames whisked him away.

Only one other letter was sent. The recipient read it over carefully before burning it to ash. No tears were shed. Only two words were uttered. "Oh bugger."

By noon, the entire wizarding world knew. It was splashed on the front of the Daily Prophet. "Boy-Who-Lived, Dead!"

©2003