December, 13th
Harry had a free afternoon and decided to pay another visit to the owlery after lunch (where a certain blond still remained suspiciously absent). This time the owlery stayed Malfoy-free as well when he got there, and while that might have extinguished the tiny spark of hope in Harry’s chest as he ascended the stairs, it didn’t deter him in his cause. All it meant was that Pigwidgeon finally got something to do. And Ron had been right, the tiny feather ball was really enthusiastic about the delivery, then again, he was always enthusiastic.
After he’d sent the miniature owl on it’s short way, he met up with the rest of the golden Trio as well as Neville and Luna in the library for some study time.
They worked together on the four feet essay for McGonagall (who was still teaching, despite being the new headmaster); the Ravenclaw’s have gotten the same assignment just on the day before.
All of them were making good progress when suddenly Pigwidgeon come fluttering in from the hallways, circling excitedly around Harry’s head and emitting thin, happy chirping sounds. Madam Pince was on Harry’s heels before he could even catch the eager ball of energy.
“No owls in the library Potter! Get out now!”
For insisting on silence in the holy halls of her library, Madam Pince herself worked up quite the shout when she was kicking someone out. Harry though wasn’t suicidal enough to start arguing that point and hurriedly stuffed his parchment, quill, ink and books back into his bag, caught Pigwidgeon with a Seeker’s skill and almost ran to the exit.
In the corridor he scowled at the owl.
“Great Pig. You could have gone to the common room. Now I have to finish this alone.”
There was no malice behind Harry’s words though and Pig chirped happily. The ravenette wasn’t really angry with the owl after all, because he was way too curious about the reply the tiny bird delivered. He untied it from Pig’s leg and set him on his shoulder, where the owl started to pick at his hair, sticking out in a naturally chaotic way from his head. Ignoring the slight pulling he unfolded the letter and read it quickly.
Potter,
Don’t bother me, I haven’t decided yet. And what in Merlin’s name did you send your message with?!
D.M.
Harry stopped walking and frowned. Well he hadn’t written much himself, but somehow he had expected a different reply. Or rather, hoped for consent to his request.
When Ron and Hermione had returned last evening, the potions essay or Harry asking for Pigwidgeon was all but forgotten and the ravenette didn’t mind it. No he was rather glad, because it prevented curious questions he didn’t want to answer right now.
Hermione had asked about the essay though during breakfast and offered to help him today, but he told her he’d handled it. Now he had to cross his fingers that Malfoy really did help him.
Looking up he walked on but stopped again at the next large windowsill, where he sat down and got out something to write.
Malfoy,
How long do you estimate you need for deciding? There’s not much time left, you know? And this is Pig. Ron’s owl.
H.P.
Harry sent Pig with his reply right away, and then walked back to the common room to continue his homework there.
And so it happened that the little owl had quite the busy afternoon.
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Potter,
Figures, only Weasley would confuse an owl with a pig. And it’s not my problem how much time you have left, my essay is already finished.
D.M.
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Malfoy,
I know you’re probably enjoying it to keep me on tenterhooks, so please tell me what I could do to sway your mind?
And actually it wasn’t Ron who named Pig, but Ginny. And it has nothing to do with a pig, it’s just a shortening of Pigwidgeon.
H.P.
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Potter,
Ah, I see you’re ready for a bargain now? Well, if I’d receive something equally valuable as my tutoring from you, I might be, as you put it so nicely, ‘swayed’.
And it was still a Weasley who named that excuse for an owl.
D.M.
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Harry thought hard. What could be good enough for Malfoy? Or be perceived by him as equally valuable to his time? Harry couldn’t pay him back by helping him out with another subject. Malfoy didn’t need help because he wasn’t only a good student in potions as far as Harry knew. Not that he shared many classes with the blond anymore.
Then he remembered something.
Malfoy,
Pig is a fine enough owl, be nice.
Alright, if you are willing to help me with that essay, I’ll help you with your Patronus.
H.P.
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Potter,
I said something equally valuable. You’re tutoring is hardly comparable to mine. And anyway, what makes you think I need help with my Patronus?
Though if you really have nothing better to offer, I might take pity on you and pretend I could use your unnecessary assistance.
Library 4p.m. tomorrow Potter. And don’t be late or this’ll be the last time I am so lenient.
D.M.
