Don't Wanna Be Owl By Myself (Max)

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It was a lovely afternoon and Eleonora had just put the finishing touches on her letter home after having worked on it for six days straight. The first time, she had seen someone enter the common room that she wanted to talk to, and the letter sat on the desk with half a sentence written until that evening, when she was too tired to focus. The second and third day she had forgotten completely. The fourth day she managed to write the entire thing only to spill pumpkin juice over the entire parchment when she reached over to grab the envelope.

Not wanting to send a message that was wet, she put the letter aside to dry for an hour or so. Naturally, she forgot about it completely, and when she did remember at six the next morning, all she found was a pile of ants. With a sigh and a wrinkle of her nose, she disposed the entire pile with a flick of her wand and a muttered spell.

But she'd finally managed to get out something similar to the previous one, tactfully leaving out what happened to the first one. The last thing she needed was a reprimand for being careless. Carrying the letter in one hand and a book in the other (she fully intended to spend her day out in the open air studying her latest obsession -- Spanish) she made her way up to the owlery.

Whistling for Hoot, she gave the bird a smile as she tied the letter to its leg. "Now Hoot, this is for mother and father, okay? Please make sure they get it. I know you'll do a great job. If they have anything for me -- I'm not sure if they will; they might be too busy to write back -- then please do bring that as well, but if they don't, I know my nanny said she had something for me, but I'm not sure if she meant she'll send me her own owl with it or if you were supposed to take it, so if you can just pop by on the way back and see if she needs anything sent, that would be great."

She paused, took a breath. "Did you get all that?"

Hoot replied with what had obviously inspired his name and took off. With a smile, Eleonora turned to find a comfortable seat somewhere nearby and settled down with her book, murmuring to herself as she practised the new language. Secretly, though, part of her wanted someone to interrupt her; she was in the mood for meeting people, but didn't want to actually go out and meet people. It was just one of those moods.

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Two steps up, one step down, two steps up, one step down, spin. Repeat. Max had a song in his head, and it would not leave him alone. He was mumbling the words under his breath, but it wasn't coherent as he made his way up the stairs to the Owlery. This, honestly, was what happened when he had sugar. Max had eaten (in one go) the chocolates Prim had gotten him for Valentine's Day - yes, very, very late, but he didn't care.

Humming as he got to the door Max pushed it open - a little too carelessly - and it hit the wall before he could catch it. "Oops..." The Gryffindor muttered, grabbing it as he cringed, turning to close it carefully before continuing on his way. His movements continued the same as the stairs, a piece of parchment in hand that was just a simple letter to his parents (in response to their essay) saying he was okay. School was okay. And that he'd see them over the summer. Three lines. Max couldn't have written more if he tried, to be honest.

It was mid spin that Max noticed that he was not alone, and he froze, realising that the witch had... possibly, seen everything he'd been doing. Smiling sheepishly at her as his cheeks flushed a most brilliant red, the boy spoke. "Umm.. hi... sorry, I didn't see you there... I was just looking for an owl to send my letter, there's not normally someone here when I come up. Not that I come up very often because I'm not very good at writing letters, truthfully.

"I'm Max, by the way!" He explained, not seeing anything wrong with introducing himself in such a manner after making a fool of himself. "What are you doing... reading up here?" Max asked, noticing the book. He couldn't make sense of why you would want to do that in the owlery.

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Hyperfocus was great. It meant that she was so absorbed in what she was doing that she hardly paid attention to anything going on around her, and it also meant that she was really focused on the subject at hand, making time fly by as she absorbed almost everything she read. This was one of the reasons she knew four languages fluently and spoke another three or so adequately; these last three had been ones with a vocabulary too complex for her, like Chinese (she could never get the intonations correct) and therefore had been postponed until she could find a proper teacher for it.

Why languages she'd never understand. There was just something about them that fascinated her; she liked to think it was because she liked to talk, and languages helped one talk. By learning more than one, she could talk to other people that didn't speak English, and that was always fun.

It took a lot to pull her out of a hyperfocus, and it was only a loud crash that got through her haze of concentration, and she blinked herself back to awareness, glancing around for whatever had broken the spell. Noticing a boy -- Gryffindor, if she wasn't mistaken -- ... dancing? Whatever it was he was doing ... she hid a smile. That looked fun, but it wasn't like she was about to get up and join him.

Any other time and she probably would have, but being snapped out of hyperfocus left her disorientated for a few moments while she tried to catch up with her surroundings, and so she was still just a tad out of it when he spotted her.

She nodded at his words, shooting him a friendly smile. "Don't you have an owl of your own?" she asked, not deeming it an improper thing. "I do. Well, he was my brother's, but my brother got a new one and I loved his old one so I took it although mother did say I could have a new one if I wanted. Why get a new one when I'm in love with the one we already have?" She paused. "I would let you use Hoot, but I just sent him off with a letter, I'm sorry. I think the school has some for anyone to use," she added, motioning towards the area she thought housed the school owls.

The introduction was casual, and Eleonora sighed in relief inwardly. She didn't need to be proper, for once, and that was always good. "I'm Nora! Well, Eleonora, but that's so long and formal, so you can just call me Nora," she replied. "It's nice to meet you, Max. Is that short for anything, or is that your full name?"

The question made her glance over at her book with a shrug. "Oh, I'm not reading. I can't stand books; they're so ... so wordy and boring and dull, and I just can't sit for that long. I'm studying Spanish; I can sit for long for that. It's called hyperfocus. At least, that's what they call it."

She frowned a little, realising that she hadn't actually answered the question. "I like it up here. It's nice and it's outdoors so there's fresh air and there's so much to see if I get bored, or I can play with an owl, or talk to someone if they came up -- like I'm talking to you now."

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The question of having his own owl made Max shake his head most vigorously. "My parents told me that getting an owl would be a good idea. The most useful. But I decided I wanted a cat, instead. So, I have Freddo. And Freddo doesn't take letters anywhere... He brings me mice, though... if that counts as a courier service." Max explained with a small laugh. It was about all Freddo was good for. Apart from finding people. Somehow... Freddo knew how to do that, but Max didn't know how his cat had learned that.

"And, don't worry. The school ones are fine! Though, I'm sure my mum will tell me, again, that they're not as good as our one." Max explained, rolling his eyes. "Hoot is a great name for an owl, by the way!" The Gryffindor added, genuinely meaning that.

"Nora..." Max replied with a small smile, taking on her big name. It was a little difficult, so he was very glad she had told him he could call her Nora. "Mmm, yeah. Max is short for Maximillian. But that is such an effort to say. Mostly it only gets used when I'm in trouble..." He explained, not adding that that was much more often than he'd probably alluded to.

"Hyperfocus...." Max echoed, not really knowing what that was, but it sounded cool. Though, she had confused him when she said she didn't like reading, but she was... reading. "I've never learnt another language before. Is it difficult?" He asked, really not knowing how you'd go about that.

"I don't think the Owlery is known for it's fresh smells..." Max replied with a laugh - the smell of bird faeces was not the nicest, but it wasn't over powering. "But, I get the playing with the owls. I love animals, personally. I'm hoping I can have lots of them when I'm older." He explained, looking up at the owls around them in small wonder before looking back to the witch. "Maybe an owl can be my next pet."

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