everyone is fond of owls[Open!]

[Hugo Weasley]

Hugo bounded up to the Owlery. There was something about being up alone in that tower, just with the sounds of owls to accompany his thoughts. Creatures - not just magical ones, but ones big and small, were fascinating to the young Weasley. Both animals and plants were what his small talents were with, along with quidditch - but that sport seemed slightly boring. Most of the excitement had been lost, he had to admit that, along with the fact that his true motives of trying out weren't the best. Pleasing his parents was important to the young Hufflepuff, and he feared the look of disappointment in his parents' eyes when he received poor marks on his Potions exams.

His hands were firmly planted in the pockets of his robes, the warmth from his clenched fists egging him forward, though the the chilly breeze nipping at his already pink nose and cheeks. Even his scarf couldn't do much to protect him against it - it kept on slipping down his nose, much to his own amusement. The reason why he'd come to the owlery was simple, Hugo was going to get his owl to send a letter home with explanations of how classes had been, as well as how Quidditch was going, mainly to appease his father. Usually, the boy steered clear of all discussions of quidditch.

The young Hufflepuff bumped into someone while searching for his owl - the delusional one by the name of Scout.

"Sorry!" he piped up, turing a bit redder. "I didn't see you there..."

[Nathalie Barber]

Nathalie, despite the cliched image of a sad girl staring over the edge, despised the Owlery. It wasn't that she didn't like owls, (she really quite liked them on their own, actually) it was that she hated what she associated them with. Letters from home. They meant her parents pretending to care about their children (Nathalie knew they did care in some way, just not enough for her to allow them their letters without some disdain) and ask how her own students were going. And somehow despite herself, Nathalie would write pages and pages back to them, mostly when she didn't have time to write pages and pages of letters.

She was sending one of these twenty-page letters off when she was bumped into by one of her students- Hugo Weasley, a third year, just begun Care of Magical Creatures. She quite liked his enthusiasm, though she worried about his perfectionist tendencies- (she had to stop herself there, she didn't want to spend time worrying about random students). "Hi Hugo," she said, putting a slight smile on her face. "It's perfectly alright." She righted him gently with a hand on his shoulder, and suppressed a sigh. Didn't this epitomize her life?

[Hugo Weasley]

sorry it took me so long to reply! D:

"I'm really sorry, ma'am," he stammered, turning a little bit pink from embarrassment. He was a bit of a klutz sometimes - at least, he didn't quite think where he was going, and therefore, he tripped over things and bumped into others. At least he was actually apologizing, unlike some other people who'd knocked into him before, yet they kept quiet about it, and sort of hurried off. "I didn't mean it, Professor..." he adjusted his scarf quickly, trying to cover his pink nose.

At that moment, Hugo's owl landed on his shoulder, making a very odd noise unique to that very owl. Scout was a lot of things - delusional being one of them. The owl was actually insane. However, this didn't subtract from Hugo's adoration of his owl. Taking the letter out of his robe pockets, he set about tying the letter to the owl, who wasn't exactly staying still. It didn't really bother Hugo, who was just trying harder.