The tap of an owl at the window came at an inopportune time for Cepheus. He was busy shoving a piece of toast into his mouth, half-dressed. He had an early morning meeting and he’d quite forgotten to adjust his alarm clock to give himself a bit more time to get out of the door to the office. It had been foggy yesterday, but though none hung in the Alley air this morning, it was rather overcast outside. Another really chilly day to come.

He went to the window, lifted the sash, and cold, February air flooded in, dropping down from the window to sweep across the floor. Ceph’s bare feet wriggled at feeling the cold. The post owl hooted with bad temper, all its feather puffed up. The thing probably had two dozen deliveries to make back and forth to the post office in Diagon Alley. Cepheus didn’t envy it. He’d run out of owl food too, to placate it. Merlin! Was it Friday the 13th or something? Cepheus was having no luck this morning at all.

The window shut with a bang, and the owl headed off. Cepheus didn’t watch it go, too preoccupied with his bleeding fingers. The owl’s beak had been awfully sharp, and in lieu of a mouse it had tried to eat Ceph’s right hand fingers. There was blood splatting onto his post, and he was running really late. Cursing to himself, he stepped away with the aim of washing his hand and attending to the post when he got home. Only, he tripped straight over curious Claude and pitched into the middle of the living room.

The post bundle left his grip. Envelopes scattered everywhere. A postcard slid right under the sofa.

Ceph braced himself on the rug beside the piano and swore loudly. Claude yeowled and shot underneath his desk, sulking at being accidentally kicked. His owner issued placating apologies as he got back to his feet, blood still dripping from his fingers.

His luck had to improve from here, surely?

“Fate have mercy…”