WHO: Theodora Travers + an old owl. WHAT: Thea begins practicing for her assignment. WHEN: 27 Feb 2018 - Late evening. WHERE: Animal Shelter. WARNINGS: Impending animal death?
Humphrey, as his last owner had called him, was an ageing barn owl going blind in his left eye, severely impairing his capacity to do the one job his previous owner had required of him. Hence, he was cooped up in the owlery along with dozens of other younger, more mail-fit owls. All were bright eyed, heads turning at eerie degrees to face Thea as she tapped Humphrey's cage.
It was fucking creepy.
"Hello, darling," Thea cooed. Her hands were covered in a pair of standard dragon-hide gloves, the leathery scales illuminated by her wandlight. It was late, 10 pm or so, and the magizoologists who ran the shelter had long since retired and locked up for the night. She knew this because she'd volunteered here a number of times before — usually because Scamander had mentioned it and she had no ready excuse to say no without tipping him off.
And it was even more important to ensure that he didn't suspect her, now that she was committing to The Cause and all.
She pulled a small colourless potion bottle out of her pocket and poured it into Humphrey's water tray. He blinked back at her, wide awake as owls were wont to be at this time. From her other pocket she pulled out a treat and offered to him, careful to hold it closer to his good eye.
He brightened instantly, flapped his wings and waddled along the length of his perch towards her before reaching out with his beak to gobble the owl treat right up.
Thea stroked his brown, ageing feathers. "It's for the best, you know. You were never going to get out of here. I'm doing you a favour, really," she informed Humphrey.
Humphrey hooted softly.
"Drink up. It's painless, I promise."
Humphrey blinked and pecked at her finger, hoping for a second treat.
She pulled a second one out and held it just above the water tray. "Go on, darling," she encouraged him, continuing to stroke his feathers.
Humphrey gobbled up the second treat and — since he was there anyway, dipped his beak into the water tray.
Thea pulled her hand back and extinguished the light. She didn't need to see what came next. Let that be the problem of whoever volunteered tomorrow morning.