Being a Borgin had a few small perks.

Since childhood Trixie had been able to make herself quiet enough that she didn’t need a spell to be undetectable and she had developed a keen sense of when somebody else was up-to-something. And when that person was somebody who usually had a broomstick wedged where the sun didn’t shine Trixie was especially suspicious.

The fact that she had also been waiting for just such an occasion to catch the other girl unawares was also fairly relevant to why she following in Holliday Fudge’s footsteps to the owlery. With a nod to Cora she quietly opened the door and slid inside, pulling her wand from her pocket silently.

“Flipendo, ” she barked, letting out a shout of laughter as the other girl flew to the ground. “Oh look, she slipped on the owl droppings!”