George had settled down for breakfast at the Great Hall. As soon as he attacked his scrambled eggs with his knife, he heard an odd flutter of wings.
It wasn't supposed to be odd. The morning mail was coming, and George heard it everyday. But today… was different. The owl came late.
Too late.
George popped his can of homemade owl treats his mom had sent him and handed two to the owl. He stared at the letter for a while, listening to the owl nibbling its treats. Dread crept into him and flooded his whole body. Firstly, post never came so late. Secondly, post for
him rarely arrived in weekdays. Shaking, he opened the letter.
If a dread meter existed for George, it would be in skyrocketing levels by now. The letter was from his sister Lily. And it was splashed with water… no tears. His sister rarely ever cried.
With trembling hands, he unfolded it fully. The letter read:
Dear George,
Greetings from Lily. How are you? How's Bella? I hope she's well, because, well, we're handling enough sadness over here.
Albert is ill. He's been diagnosed with a bout of pneumonia. The vet says he's old (that's right, we're at the Muggle house in London now) and probably won't survive. He's been staring out of the window and though the pneumonia is mild, he won't play with me anymore. His playful woof is also gone. From what we can make of it, he's been longing for you to get home. The vet says he hasn't got long to live, maybe one month.
Try and write back as soon as possible. Love to Bella.
~Lily
George read and re-read the letter twice. Though it wasn't in his nature to cry, tears began flooding his eyes. Pictures began to come up in his mind, a picture of brown pawprints in the muddy field beside his house, a playful bark, a game of fetch, Albert jumping onto his lap.
George got up, sighing. "Tunc Sibilus!", he said. His whistle Transfigured into a watch. He checked the time. 8:45. He packed up his toast and scrambled eggs, placed the owl treats back into his pocket, and got up. For once, breakfast at the Great Hall didn't seem important anymore.
