Kapitel 20: Brutes and Bullies

Flying through the rafters, the beating of wings against air and hooting rises over the conversations that once dominated the hall as a flock of owls soar through the room. How am I never ready for this? I think as I fight to suppress an attack. Anne opens her mouth to continue the conversation only for the grey, brown speckled, owl from this morning to swoop down; dropping today's copy of the Daily Prophet as well as a few letters.

Rather than leaving immediately, the brave owl comes back around to land on my shoulder. Attack successfully suppressed, I can feel the eyes on me as I sit there, all four foot five of me, perfectly unencumbered by the owl sitting on my shoulder; tall enough for the sight to be comedic.

Looking up at the owl, I find a small note looped around one of its talons. Sliding unlooping it, the owl gives an appreciative coo as I use one of my hands to scratch behind its ear and the other to open the note.

Catlyn Ollivander,

I forgot to mention it but this brute's name is Sergeant or Serg for short. He is the only owl in the Owlery that was willing to deliver to you so I suggest that you keep on good terms with him.

Sincerely, Dumbledore.

P.S. For fun I taught Serg to understand BSL so he should understand you.

*You just wanted to extort me for food, didn't you?* His eyes almost sparkle at my question.

Sighing, I tear off a piece of mutton and hold it up to him. His pupils turn to pinpricks at the sight of it, *You ready?*

At a nod in confirmation, I throw the mutton up into the air and ignore the pain from his talons as he launches off my shoulder. With one flap of his wings, the Screech Owl launches into the air and snatches the meat immediately.

"What was that about?" Anne asks as Great Hall returns to normal.

Handing her the note, her eyes gain a slight tint of blue as she reads it, "Brute's an understatement."

"Well it takes a savage to control a savage, isn't that right Parasite?" A snide posh voice insults from behind me. Turning around, my eyes burn at the sight of Draco Malfoy, with his two goons blocking him from the eyes of the teachers.

Ahh, it makes perfect sense that the youngest Malfoy would be a snobbish prick; considering all my father's told me. According to him, they're a pure-blood family that served You-Know-Who during his reign. I've, luckily, never met one of the Malfoy's before because Father never liked dealing with them and has banned them from the shop.

"And who are you?" Anne questions, hair gaining slightly orange tips, forcing me to cross out the comeback I was writing. I like to think I have a fair amount of wit. Between joking around with my father and my upbringing, I've learned how to fight with words.

"Shut up you Yankee," Malfoy snaps back, causing Anne to back down and the dynamic duo to chuckle. Turning back to me, joy seems to spark in his eye at his success in verbally kicking a puppy. His smile heated my blood.

"You know people have been calling you the 'Ice Queen'. It seems sort of counterproductive to scare away your food, doesn't it?" A razor-thin smile spreads across his face as his goons chuckle at his insult. Unaffected by his lack of creativity, I use my peripherals to spot Cedric, looking over in confusion at two Slytherins in the middle of the aisle.

"What's your damage?" Anne, who has clearly never dealt with his kind before, fires back as she gets her second wind; the orange in her hair and eyes growing deeper shades.

"Nothing, I just say how I see it. Speaking of which, does your mother enjoy muddying up pureblood families or is she just a gold digger?" At the comment, I could feel the mass amounts of Mana building up in Anne as Cedric starts to get up. Murder in his eyes, I deduce he heard him. My blood boiled over into icy fury at his attack. My teeth clenched as my fist tightened to the point of my nails piercing my palm.

I put to use the verbal punishment I endured for years to work, 'speaking of families, how's yours? Still sucking You-Know-Whose dick?' The ferret's eyes widen at the crude language as Malfoy opens his mouth to allow more garbage to spew out of it.

I wag my finger as I turn the page, 'I wouldn't if I were you. Her big brother over there looks to have murder in his eyes and Anne over here can't exactly control her magic. Even if they weren't here, I'd bring out those fangs you claim I have. You can insult me all you want, beat me, belittle me, but don't you fucking dare, go after Anne! Got it?'

"This- this isn't over half-breed filth," Malfoy spat back in his snide voice, slightly sweating, as he tapped Crabbe and Goyle's back; leaving with their tails between their legs. At the retreat of the poison trio, Cedric sat back down in a sigh of relief. The only one who can insult me is me, and no one, and I mean no one, can insult Anne.

Pride swimming in me, I smile back at Anne to find her hair and eyes back to normal, "What did you say to him?"

'You don't want to know,' I reply back as I examine my mail. A posh envelope with my family seal, an O with a wand through it, a standard small piece of parchment, and my copy of the Daily Prophet sat in a pile on my empty plate.

Grabbing from the top, I flip over the parchment and begin to decipher its horrid handwriting.

Dear Catlyn,

I know you have Friday afternoons off and was wondering if you would like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I know you don't know me that well but I would like us to get to know each other more. I heard Dumbledore finally got an owl to deliver to you, that's good. Send an answer back with that brave owl.

Hagrid