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Soft light shone through the high windows of the owlery, illuminating Allegra’s fellow feathered residents. Many, such as herself, had just returned from their nightly hunts to check for post for their humans. 

As usual, her human had no post or parcels for delivery, but that didn’t mean Allegra couldn’t pay her girl a visit. A visit would mean a rasher of bacon and soft petting fingers through her flight-ruffled feathers, so a visit must happen. 

With a stretch of her wings, she surged up, flying to the high ceiling, straight through her preferred window and out into the morning sun.

Up, up, up she went, like a magnet drawn to the warm rays of the sun. When she nearly reached the rolling clouds, Allegra stretched her wings further to glide down. 

The controlled descent with the cool air streaming through her feathers, was exhilarating. Falling further, she trilled happily as her talons kissed the water of the lake below. 

Another strong flap of her wings and up again toward the castle she went, flying to the window that would gain her entrance to the large room where the humans broke their fast.

Allegra could already taste the bacon.

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Bernadette waited impatiently in the trees on the far side of the Black Lake. It was past their meeting time, but they were all at the mercy of their people - a last minute post or a visit from their person often caused a delay.

When the group had finally arrived, Jupiter clucked once, twice, three times, and  the parliament took off. Once situated, they left only inches between their wing tips as they flew low over the dark waves of the lake. 

Over the years, the group had apparently perfected the process of fishing together. They moved their wings in a rhythm that sent the surface-dwelling aquatic creatures scurrying - straight into the beak of the owl next to them.

Bernadette, as the familiar of a transfer student, still wasn’t very good at it, but she didn’t come for the fish. Violet (or rather Violet’s mother) kept Bernadette’s perch stocked of homemade treats.

She was here because she loved to feel a part of the group.

She eagerly anticipated these nights, when they all grew restless and hungry, ready to stretch their wings and embrace their nature.

Supposedly, owls were solitary creatures. Not at Hogwarts, though. 

It was a magical place.

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"Sasha! Come quick!"

I should be better prepared. Should expect this even. When that nuance enters my human's voice, it's only for two reasons. Shenanigans or saving. 

I'm not sure which I prefer, to be honest. But as the leader of our family, I run. She's crouching over a pile of some sort. The stick in her hand points away from us, but all of her attention is latched onto a pair of black-furred, long-nosed babies that are grabbing out for the gold-coloured trim of her coat. 

"Poachers! I've heard of those savage people trying to harm baby Nifflers."

What's a Niffler? I wonder, circling.

"What if they try to hurt me?" she whispers, fear tinging her words.

Not ever! I yip, summoning that giant, drooling beast that was my first sibling. Toothy. No one will harm my human with us around. 

"Brilliant!" She beams as the dragon lands at her side, scorching a line of fire to surround us. "Shhh, Bonnie, Clyde, you're safe now." She plucks the new babies up and puts them in a pocket of her coat, cradling them close. "Come, Sasha, the train to Hogwarts leaves soon. Mama Puff will know what to do."

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Journal of Carl, the Most Esteemed Ostrich

Lodgings: Magical Menagerie, Hogwarts Grounds.

Day’s observations:

Once again, Gremlin and Lettie have embarrassed us all. They chased a second-year across the courtyard for daring to wave a biscuit in their direction. Entirely undignified. I ruffled my feathers, of course, to indicate my disapproval. Did they notice? No. Too busy cackling like common geese. Geese!

I, meanwhile, devoted myself to Very Prestigious Ostrich Things. Posture practice. Feather preening. Contemplating the delicate balance of destiny and dignity. The sort of pursuits befitting a creature of my stature.

Steph, my human, came by after dinner, with O’Dair the pocket-fox poking his snout about. The little fellow tried to startle me, but I am unflappable. (Mostly. His ears are… rather alarming up close.) Steph called me majestic. 

Naturally.

Gremlin and Lettie are now racing each other around the lodgings. Again. I shall not participate. My reputation as Hogwarts’ most distinguished ostrich must remain intact.

—Carl

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“Mrrrp!” 

The sound calls to me like a siren. Not the merfolk kind, the muggle kind, the one that signals impending doom. 

Bright blue eyes stare at me from the wingback chair facing my desk. 

“Shoo!” I hiss, but it’s not fazed. “Kneazles.” I grumble. Fearless creatures if I’ve ever seen one. Its fur was the color of caramel and burnt umber. “Return to your witch or wizard, before I banish you.” 

It wasn’t an empty threat. 

*“If you banish me, how will you ever learn which of your precious Puffs has been sneaking out at night?”* 

The voice is like silk, caressing my thoughts. 

“How did you do that?” I narrow my eyes. “And which Puff?” I ask for good measure. 

*“I’m a magical creature, Professor. It’s in the title.”* It communicates telepathically. 

I raise my brow, my thoughts racing. This could be good. 

“What do you want?” I ask cautiously. 

“Just a warm spot by your fire, perhaps a bowl of warm milk.”

A smirk forms on my lips. 

“What’s your name?”

“My litter called me Orla. Your young, call me, Chaos, which I resent btw.” 

“Oh, there *will* be chaos.”

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I lean forward, nosing the over-large egg toward my human. I don't recognize this species. Smells--weird. But she'll know what to do, she always does.

"Sasha, you brilliant girl, what have you found?" she cries, dropping down next to me. 

Again, I wish I had the power of telepathy and could tell her I haven't the foggiest, but somehow she knows my thoughts. She always knows.

"We'll take this egg to Mama Puff, she'll help!" She scoops the egg up, giggling when she realizes it's a bit heavier than expected. "Look, Mama Puff! Look what we've found!" she calls.

"Oh goodie, you wonderful girl, what are you bringing me now? Breakfast?"

My human gasps, snatching the egg out of the other one's hands. "Never! It's...hatching!" 

"Merlin and Morgana, child, you've found a Gremlin!" 

My human coos gently, protecting the egg. "It's not a Gremlin, it's an ostrich!"

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You might think my life is easy, well it’s not. My human, Tori, left Italy and her magical school to move to the UK as a transfer student. Do you have any idea what this did to my wonderful fur? Let’s say Scotland’s humidity doesn’t agree with it.

But, do you want to know what the real tragedy is? Tori dyed her hair blonde during an existential crisis. We no longer match. Truly heartbreaking.

At least Hogwarts is lovely, and the Puff Pack is an amazing bunch. Plus, lots of fellow foxes who truly get me.

Right now, I’m curled up by the fire in the Common Room, waiting for my (still blonde) human. If I am not mistaken (and I am not), she finished Herbology ages ago. But never mind, Tori. Keep me waiting. 

Wait, there she is! And, wait…this is monumental. She’s charmed her hair back to ginger! Finally, we’re twins again. Clearly, ginger is the superior colour. Just look at my fur. Glad she saw that too.

“Ignis, my boy…what do you think?” she asks, showing me off  her amazingly long and fiery hair. 

I nod. No need to get her too excited.

Now, that’s better.

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“Jupiter. Hullo, darling,” Professor Potter hums as I land on the perch on his desk. “The Puff Pack run you off again?” 

I screech softly in agreement. He has no idea. He chuckles as I adjust my talons around the soft cushion to settle in and watch him work. 

As I’ve done dozens of times before, I watch him scribble down notes. The sound of the crackling fireplace accompanied by his scratching quill eventually lulls me into a gentle slumber. 

A minute or an hour later, his hand is idly patting my feathers. I coo at him in appreciation.

“It’s about time for bed, Hedwig,” he yawns, his arms lifting to stretch above his head when he’s caught his mistake. He smiles before correcting himself. “I mean, Jupiter. You’d best be off. Can’t leave Professor Abraxas to fend for herself, can we?” 

He’s right, of course. 

Professor Potter tosses me a treat before opening a window. I fly out into the night sky and I can feel him watching me take flight—in much the same way he used to watch her sour.

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September 3, 2025 

Dear Diary- except I am an owl and can’t really write, so I am just thinking this- although, I imagine I could scratch a few letters down if I lowered my standards enough to hold a quill. *Shudders* Why my pet uses those things is beyond me. I mean, I am *right here!*

Anyway…

You know, I bet I could use my talon- ugh! That’s beside the point!

It’s been two hours since my pet has sat herself down at her writing desk and taken every pen she owns to paper. On and on she goes. Testing each one. 

Maybe I could use one of those instead of my tal- *enough!*

Sometimes I feel as though I am two different owls in here; the actual bird and the cognizant brains of this establishment. Perhaps I have some werewolf in my lineage… I will have to ask mother.

What was I talking about?

Oh, yes! My pet, well, she is clearly going insane. I am remiss to tell her but, she keeps getting a word wrong. Oh, wait, I think she’s just realized- ahh, good. All is well again.

Hoot.

*Ahh!* Who said that?!

End entry.

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Dear Diary,

Today I followed my human around the grounds and castle. She kept disappearing on me and I couldn’t figure out where she was going! I’m a fox though and I’m pretty sly, so today when I followed her I kept to the shadows and eventually we wound up on the seventh floor. She disappeared quickly into a room and before I could follow the door disappeared! After talking with some of my other familiar friends in the Puff Pack, we’ve come to the conclusion that it’s the Come and Go Room – the humans come and the humans go!

One day soon I’ll make it inside – I know I will.

Until then, I’ll stay sly.

Xoxo Mykonos

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Two eyes opened, half-lidded, not at all bothered by the four kilos of silver-white fluff perched on her chest.

“Hello, Nox.”

She’s awake. Finally.

The little arctic fox leapt from the bed, circling her boots.

“Alright, alright,” she laughed, pulling on her cloak. Her hand stroked down the thick fur at his neck. 

The fox gekkered—her touch was the best.

“Only the forest today,” she warned. “I have breakfast duty.”

Nox spun them out of the castle into snow-laden trees. This was his favorite game—leaping and making holes in the drifts. She laughed, tossing his toy: a golden ball with wings. He darted after it until dawn broke over the treetops.

“I’m going in, Nox. Don’t get into trouble.”

She left. He did not. Instead, Nox played chase with a crup and raced a thestral before vanishing into a classroom.

“Morning, Nox!” said the professor, whose furry head was the same color as his own. His cauldron brimmed with winter berries—and suddenly, they appeared at Nox’s paws. He devoured them, pleased.

“Tell your mum I’ll see her at dinner.”

Nox spun to the kitchens, secured a pumpkin pasty, then curled on her bed. A gift left. A nap earned.

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Pocket. Warm. Safe. 

My human, Steph, smells like cinnamon and treacle tart, and her voice hums through her chest when she talks. I tuck my nose under my tail and pretend to nap until she walks out of the eating room. The stone smell of the castle fades and the air changes. 

Night. Grass. Water. Fireflies.

I spring. Out of the pocket, into the sky, ears wide as sails. The grass swallows me whole, and the fireflies glitter above like floating snackies just for me. 

I leap—snap!—miss. Roll, shake, leap again. 

They laugh at me, blinking away, but I’ll catch one. I always do.

Other humans shriek when my head pops out of the dark, my ears twice as tall as theirs. I hear Steph laugh, the sound bright and fond, even though she says, “O’Dair! Be nice or I’ll take you back inside!” in that mock-stern way. 

She doesn’t mean it. She never does.

There! Caught one. Tiny paws hold the glowing snackie, wings tickling my nose. Delicious. Gone in a blink. I lick my whiskers. Steph kneels down, scratching under my chin, and I purr so hard my ears buzz.

Another firefly flares. My paws itch. Steph sighs. I leap.

Snackies first. Scolding later.

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I pick up speed as Gremlin chases after me. She might be bigger and taller than me, but I’m determined to beat her this time. I can feel the wind whisper through my feathers as I reach out my neck, pumping my legs as fast as I can. 

SMACK! SMACK!

I run right into the rubber fences before bouncing off and into the grass. I turn my head and see Gremlin next to me. 

“Who won that time, Carl?” I eagerly ask. 

He rolls his eyes at us as he puffs out his chest. “I refuse to participate in your childish antics. We wouldn’t even need the fences in the first place if you two would desist with the tomfoolery!”

“Oh, come on! Don’t get your feathers in a twist. Racing into the fences is fun. You should try it,” Gremlin laughs. 

“I’d rather die, thank you.” 

Gremlin smirks as much as an ostrich can smirk before she playfully teases, “You’re just too slow to beat the unrefuted champion.” 

I hold my breath, waiting for Carl’s rebuttal. “Lettie won," he announces. I squawk in excitement, but Carl holds up a wing to shush me. “For now. We race at dawn.”

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The door to the kitchens is closed. I know they hear my screams, but they refuse to comply with my demands. No matter. I’ll find a way in and there shall be a reckoning the likes of which has never been seen. 

Throwing myself at the door has proven futile. Pacing around hasn’t worked the way it usually does for the well-behaved wall on the other floor. 

Laying down to ponder further, I note that I don’t feel hairy anymore. I’m not sure how I know it, but I’ve turned into my namesake. Interesting. 

Through experimentation, I move my water particles under the seam of the kitchen door and will myself to materialize again. I’m inside at last. I can almost taste my vengeance.

“Puddles! How’d ye get in here?” I look up at the towering giant, determining how much of my fury he deserves when he pulls a can out of his pocket. 

He pops the lid and places it in front of me. I inhale the delicious smell. Tuna. 

I greedily nibble the food and my anger recedes with each bite. Finishing the can, I curl in a ball once more. Revenge can wait until after my nap.

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There I was, minding my own business, when this creature wanders into my field.

I lift my head, sniffing the breeze, every muscle poised.

Mine. My field. My home. My duty to protect.

I creep in, silent. I'll react with swift execution and zero prejudice. Invaders aren't tolerated. It's known throughout the land.

Thick, white tufts stand tall along my spinal ridge, ever alert to my surroundings. Prowling closer, the scent grows stronger and I'm intrigued, rather than repulsed, by the foreigner's invasion.

I crest the small knoll, locking onto this--thing--standing tall in a copse of barrier Spruce trees. Wild curls and obviously more charm than sense. She drops to her knees, arms wide, proclaiming, "Sasha Fierce, my darling!" 

Not in my forest. Racing toward her, potential enemy--this unknown entity,  my lithe form threads between thick brush brambles.

"I've waited so long for you!" Sunlight pierces boughs above, enshrouding her in a golden haze.

I freeze, mere feet away, my heart pounding. Waited? For me? I tilt my head, eyes locking onto hers, and it happens. The bond. Happiness unlike I've ever known--never wanted to--fills me and I leap into the unknown.

My forever. My familiar. My home.

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I cocked my head to the side, observing the witch with interest. 

Her graceful hands pulled a wicker basket from a tall stack at her side. I blinked slowly, lazily as she placed it on the table in front of her, the sharp cut of her sleek black bob hiding her eyes as she bent at the hips only to stand straight seconds later, a ball of downy moss cupped between her palms. She placed the mass in the basket, fluffing it, and for a moment, I was tempted to swoop down from my watch tower to nest in the comfort. 

A dead rodent was produced out of thin air with the wave of her wand, and she settled it atop the lichen. I forced myself not to attack, not to eat, knowing within the week, I’d get to do just that. Anticipation made each delivery better. Closing a single eye, I watched the witch fill the basket with familiar treats, a bundle of twigs, a perch my witch would mount high in her dormitory. 

Then the black-haired witch peered up at me, a smirk on her ruby red lips. “Snotra, you’re ruining the surprise. You can wait eight more days.”

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The wind cuts a violent swath through the Spruce trees as my human tucks me more securely in my harness against her chest. She's rather ridiculous, but she's mine.

I tickle her face with the end of my fluffy white tail and am rewarded with an indulgent ear scritch as she tries to shield me from the elements. I wonder where we're going this time. It's always an adventure.

"You trust me, right?" she says, staring down at me with excited eyes. I don't say anything, but she knows, I'd accompany her to the ends of this earth.

Her chest saws up and down as she climbs higher into the mountain terrain. I begin to worry about her health in the cold heights; however, just as I'm about to make her take a break, she stops.

"Here he is, Sasha! Your new brother, Toothy!"

I turn my attention at her introduction and freeze. Stark terror renders me motionless. Because there, in front of us, is a black Night Fury Dragon. 

"Up we go!" she giggles, clambering on the beast's back. "Sam is going to be so excited to see us!"

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“My wizard is the best! See the toy he brought me yesterday.” The barn owl preened as he lifted one leg in the air to show the reticulated snake gently gripped between his talons.

I glared at the parliament on the perch next to mine, all owls I don’t associate with. I never bothered to remember their names.

The owlery door creaked open and a witch entered. 

“Michelle!” I glided to a nearer perch, eyes roving to find the inevitable treats. An open packet in her hand revealed the tiniest edge of pink flesh - Salmon! I shifted from one foot to the other, tilted my head, and let out giddy coos of appreciation.

“That toy is nothing, look what my witch gave me this morning.” 

“That stuffed rat won’t last the afternoon. My toy is better.”

I bristled at the interruption. 

“WILL YOU LOT SHUT UP ALREADY!” I screeched.

Michelle’s shoulders jerked upward and she covered her ears. “Howl, you can’t screech at everyone or Headmistress McGonagall might not let you stay here next year.” 

She doesn’t understand my plight, alone all day with these bird-brained sons of turkeys. Oh, well. The things a bird does for love.