Thunder crackled outside the Amesbury residence. George rolled over in bed looking at the clock on the wall, 4:09. Running his fingers through his hair and scratching the back of his neck, he rolled over to see Angelina wide awake. She gave him a half smile, “Don’t think anyone could sleep with that storm whirling on outside.”

George and Roxanne closed up the shop at the end of the day. He had mentioned to Ron that they would be heading over to the Potter's to pick up Fred. As they were locking up the front of the shop, a tawny barn owl flew through the open window on the second floor of the shop. It swooped through the ostentatious puppetry that dangled round the shop ceiling and dropped the letter on the counter. The message was short.

"Fred," said a woman with umber brown skin in a light purple robe. Rushing in she grabbed the girl swiftly by the arm as a means to manage her outburst. "Roxanne. Don't run into your father's store like that. You could have knocked someone over."

"Don't you remember that feeling of excitement Ang," a tall man, resembling the same tuffs of read hair, asked tilting his glasses down his nose. "Besides, no one was in the way. No harm, no fowl."