7 AM

Miles paused at the top of the stairs, ducking and pressing his back to the wall to let an escaped owl back into its tower haven. He grinned amusedly as watched thing flutter past, not minding the mess of ruffled, snowy feathers it left in its frenzied wake like pollen. Undoubtedly, it had been chased back up to the West Tower before it had even had the proper time to explore the corridor below. After all, the Hufflepuff had seen it glide down the spiraling stone climb only a few minutes ago, somewhere around the first quarter of his own lazy trudge up the stairs.

Stepping at last into the owlery, whose door was open for daytime visitors, the lanky badger wandered toward a perch where, sure enough, a plump tawny owl was teetering in and out of sleep. "Hey, Rich," he said, yawning and giving the thing's fluffy head a little rub. Its massive orbs immediately fluttered open. The nocturnal bird gave a soft hoot of acknowledgement, which encouraged Miles to continue speaking now that he had Ricardo's attention. "So, I'm not Lo, but do you think you could deliver a letter for me?"

Miles wondered how the bird was progressing on its supposed diet, if at all. Lola had a heart of gold, and no bird-friendly snacks were off limits. Giving the owl's rotund middle an experimental poke, he was met with rebounding; surely it was as fed as ever. Which, for Miles, probably meant few protests to his jovial request. He smiled, his expression knowing and hopeful. "Lola's treating you well, I see."

Ricardo stirred further, lifting one folded wing and giving it a little shake as he stretched it; the other followed suit, and the owl uttered more soothing, echoing cries of consent as he flapped idly in place. His clawed feet, infinitely smaller than the rest of him, were still in place on the perch. "I'll let her know what a hard worker you are... promise," he added, nodding slowly with honest eyes, a tight but tranquil mouth, and a palm over the heart of his wrinkled, gray long-sleeve shirt.

Ava decided it was time to contact her brother. She hadn't seen him since the remembering day party at Signature, and had only heard from him once since then. Apparently their father had finally decided to grace the club with his presence - something he should have done long before now, considering the club had been open for just over a year.

She made her way from the dungeons, up the staircase which seemed to go on forever today. It was early morning, but the sun was beaming through every window she passed, highlighting the flecks of dust that were dancing in the air as though there was not a care in the world. A mere month ago, Ava would not have been up so early, but since the two week detention of getting up at the crack of dawn to cook breakfast for her fellow students, Ava had grown to appreciate that first breath of the cool morning air, and the smell of lingering dew on blades of grass.

Ava reached the fifth floor and lingered on the top step, letting her eyes wander down the deserted corridor. I wonder if the ghoul is still there... she thought to herself as her right shoe scuffed the top step, swinging backwards and forwards. It had been almost two weeks since the incident in the empty classroom. Vienna still wasn't happy with her, and quite rightly too; Ava wouldn't be too pleased with Vienna if she'd been stunned by the girl. Ava sighed and carried on walking, dragging her feet up every cold, stone step.

She reached the entrance to the west tower in which the owlery was housed, and began to drag herself up the final stretch of stairs, her feet echoing with ever step she took. As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard people talking. Ava stopped and listened, making sure that she wasn't disturbing anything. Her brow furrowed. Why was she bothered about disturbing people? She really was going soft - Fauna was rubbing off on her. She shook her head and pushed the door open, only to see Miles Farraday talking to...and owl. An owl on a diet? That was a strange concept, made even stranger by the fact that Miles was discussing this diet with the owl in question. What a strange boy he was.

"Don't mind me." Ava said quietly as she made her way into the owlery. She attempted to avoid the faeces on the floor, but it was a hard thing to do when the only patch of floor not covered in faeces had something on it that looked even worse. "Trigger." She called out. A small tawny owl flew down from one of the higher rafters and landed on a wooden beam next to Ava. "Take this to Finn, please?" She tied the lette to his left leg, and Trigger gave a high-pitched hoot that closely resembled a squark, and nuzzled Ava's hand. She held her hands out. "I don't have anything with me, Trig. Sorry. Come back with a reply and you'll get triple." She grinned at the bird, knowing that in its vain attempt to retrieve treats, he would do anything to Finn which would make him reply - Trigger was not shy about hurting people.

The owl gave a low hoot, and flashed a look at Ava which said "Next time, don't bother coming up if you don't have treats, OK?" as he flew off out of the owlery and into the morning mist.

Miles looked away from his pleasant (if rather one-sided) conversation with Ricardo-or-Rich-for-Short the owl, and discovered that he was not the only student in the castle who had woken up much too early than was logically sane to send a letter. Any other student might have been slightly embarrassed to be caught talking to a lethargically sleepy bird, even in the owlery where mail was often dispatched, but Miles only offered a lazy grin and lift of his hand to his fellow sixth year, Ava Grosvenor.

"Morning, Ava. Up way too early, too?" He asked, stifling another yawn and turning more properly to look at the girl. He leaned against a probably once-handsome wooden pole supporting rafters full of birds. It had been pecked, scratched, decayed, and decorated with various drying substances, but Miles had to suppose that gave it character, if nothing else. He wondered how to poor caretaker dealt with it, if it at all. His arm reached blindly toward Ricardo again, and he gave the owl's head another rub, messing its feathers in an attempt to further rouse it from its state of half-sleep.

He watched the girl's owl respond to the word Trigger-- apparently its name. That was a weird choice of title for a bird. Trigger as in weapon? He thought of those muggle guns they'd learned about in Professor Frasier's class. For some reason, if anyone was going to name an owl Trigger, Ava seemed like the person. Not that Miles really minded, even if he was all for peace and handshakes.

"Is it a dangerous owl?" He couldn't help asking as he watched it fly off. He was still grinning however. "Triple treats sounds good right now... Or, er, triple breakfast." Miles shrugged and reached into one pocket, and then the other... empty. No cereal. No breakfast bars. No toffee.

"Is it a dangerous owl?"

Ava turned back to Miles from watching Trigger fly out of the window. Her brow furrowed. Dangerous? Then it clicked. She grinned. "Oh, you mean his name?" She shook her head. "No, not at all...well, unless you don't give a reply when I've specifically asked for one. Then you might get a peck or two." She sat on the stone window ledge, the only part of the room that wasn't covered in faeces.

"His name is strange, though...apparently, there is a thing that muggles use sometimes...a gun. Its sort of like a wand, but instead of spells coming out of the end, a little hard...thing...comes out. I think its intended for hurting people?" She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Why on earth they don't just use magic, I'll never know!" She rubbed her right eye with the back of her hand and gave a small yawn. "Anyway, my brother got him from Eeylops when he started at Hogwarts. The man in the shop said that a muggle-born Hogwarts boy had found him somewhere just outside of London. He was injured, and the boy didn't know where else to take him. So he took him to Eeylops, and told them that its name was 'Trigger'. He already had an owl, and didn't want another. So Eeylops nursed him back to health, and...well..." She motioned out of the window, to where Trigger's tiny form could be seen flying over the Forbidden Forest. "That's how we came to get him. He's really old. But he's a loyal owl. Me and my brother shared him, when we were both here. Now, he's mine."

Ava looked at the owl Miles was petting. "That isn't your owl, is it?" She asked, her head cocked to one side slightly. She was sure she had seen that owl with Lola Ingberg on numerous occasions. But Lola and Miles were friends, so it probably wasn't so strange that Miles should know the owl well.

"Triple treats sounds good right now... Or, er, triple breakfast."

Ava's mind wandered to food. Her stomach started to growl slightly, and she gave a sheepish grin as she held onto it for dear life. "I'm starving..." She stated the obvious, excusing her noisy tummy.

Smiling at the idea of the girl actually sending a disgruntled owl after late repliers (she wouldn’t really do that, would she?), Miles decided the name Trigger was actually pretty cool. From a nonviolent, naming standpoint.

“Yeah,” he laughed, rubbing his hair. “I was thinking of that. Guns. They’re a bit of a trip. I wondering what the lad—or girl— who thought that up was thinking…” He simply couldn’t understand. Weren’t there ways to defend one’s self without killing everything in sight? “It’s some sort of fiery thing that does it. Maybe like Avada Kedavra in solid form.” That was a terrifying thought, come to think of it. But then guns didn’t always kill people, if he remembered correctly. And Ava had said hurt. She probably knew what she was talking about.

“That’s really great that your family helped saved him. He sounds like a fighter.” Miles’ eyes found the departing owl again and he had a newfound respect for the name ‘Trigger’. And for Ava Grosvenor, in fact. “When did your brother graduate?” He asked, sounding as if he were thinking back. He felt like he should know this, for whatever reason. He had never been close with Ava, having generally run in different circles, but he didn’t dislike her at all, and he’d heard her brother owned Signature in Hogsmeade. The Remembering Day party had been brilliant.

Laughing, the Hufflepuff shook his head mildly, and held up both hands slightly. “Guilty as charged… it’s Lola’s. Er, Lola Ingberg’s.” He looked back to Rich, whom he was still petting, and drew a letter from his pocket. “Ready are you?” He murmured to the bird. “His name is Ricardo,” he added, more loudly for Ava. “He likes food. I can relate.”

Blinking his sleepy eyes as he turned toward the window and the sunlight, Miles walked the rotund owl to the window and let him soar. “Yeah, I’m definitely starving, too. It’s a shame there’s not a second Great Hall up here on the fifth floor,” he said with a grin, appreciating and understanding her sheepish one. “I always thought it was unfair… we had the life, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins… having our common rooms right under the ground floor. The poor Ravenclaws and Gryffindors have to trudge down there every morning just for their porridge and eggs! But now that we’ve climbed six floors up and have to go back down, I think we’ve been lied to,” he joked. Owls, of course, arrived at breakfast a bit later, for those who could wait. Miles enjoyed visiting the owlery when he could… just not always this early.