The morning flock of owls streamed into the Great Hall like they did every morning, dropping off letters and packages to eager students hoping to hear from home. Archer took very little notice, intent on concentrating on his breakfast. After all, his clumsy owl usually straggled in once the morning meal seemed to be just about finished.

Tiredly, the young Ravenclaw worked at cutting into his eggs. He kept his head down, like he did most days, trying to just remain under the radar. He didn't notice the startled noises around him, until a shadow fell over his plate. Tentatively, he glanced up, a sinking feeling forming in his stomach. Who was here to terrorize him at this early hour? Wasn't stealing his belongings enough?

However, he didn't expect to lock eyes with a bird, nearly three feet in length, clutching a letter clearly addressed to him in its curved bill. It stood among the breakfast plates, unconcerned with the other students' gaping stares. This had to be a joke.

He couldn't move. What if this was the type of bird that could slice one's eyes out? How was he supposed to retrieve his letter? The avian was eerily silent, its mottled brown and black feathers lifted slightly as if it were waiting to fly off once more. Its head was strangely bare, aside from some dirty looking, white-ish fluff that gathered very densely at the base of his neck. Where had it even come from? Surely, not from Scotland?

"O-oh."


Open to anyone who might be at the Ravenclaw table, staff, or even gawkers from other houses.

Archer's new Ruppell's Griffon Vulture. Thanks, Florida!