Harry was a promise-breaking jerk.
Eliana had gone the entire summer without a single letter from him, and she was furious.
It wasn't that she cared about the letters—well, all right, she cared a little. But what kind of friend vanished for a month or two the moment school let out? Anyone would think they were only friends during term time.
Ron had written her two letters, mostly to complain that Harry hadn't replied to him either. Honestly, that made Eliana feel a lot better, since those two had always seemed closer.
Ron had sent his letters by owl, but his family's owl looked like a feather duster on its last legs. One more flight might make it drop dead on the road, so she couldn't bring herself to trouble it with a reply.
She was genuinely afraid the old bird would die en route and she'd have to pay for it.
If she was willing to spend that kind of money, she might as well buy an owl of her own.
Wait a minute.
Eliana slowly, breathlessly turned toward the owl sprawled across her desk. It looked utterly exhausted, its breathing faint. If this owl just happened to die at Professor Snape's house—
The bedraggled feather duster suddenly puffed up, as though it had sensed danger, and struggled to open its drooping eyes.
Forget it.
Professor Snape had been good to her. She couldn't do that to him.
Eliana painfully forced herself to abandon the idea. Besides, she couldn't be sure the old owl would die at Snape's place. What if it died at hers on the return trip?
If there was any chance of hurting her wallet—even one in a thousand—Eliana wouldn't take it.
*One in a thousand! What a terrifying probability! She could never expose her wallet