It was a delightful April morning with the clear gold rays of sun shining in through the open Entrance doors when Giselle came up the stairs from the Hufflepuff dorm.
Tomorrow was her birthday. She was looking forward to the owl post at breakfast, expecting a present from her cousin Marsha, who always sent cards and packages early. Marsha was notoriously forgetful. She made a point of sending things early before it slipped her mind.
Giselle caught up with her Quidditch teammates, Bea and Felix, in the Great Hall. They sat in their usual spot at the Hufflepuff table; the end nearest the faculty board where it wasn't so messy during the mail delivery, all those feathers in the air and packages dropping on people's heads.
Here, at the table end, you more often than not had to get up and retrieve your mail from the lap of someone further down the table. It was a bother, but better than getting rained on by hundreds of envelopes and such.
"Now, what's this?" said Bea.
Argus Filch stood near the faculty entrance with a large mirror. As each of the teachers came out from the lounge and over to the faculty board they would stop and stare at themselves in the mirror. Then, satisfied, they took their places at the board and went about their breakfast as if it were quite routine to study their faces in a mirror first.
"Odd," remarked Felix with his mouth full of waffles. "Why do you suppose they have to look in a mirror?"
"Dunno," said Bea. "Giselle, pass the syrup. Best to get our plates finished before the post comes."
"A new policy, maybe, about looking smart for breakfast," said Giselle, gesturing at Filch as the scruffy custodian shuffled off through the exit with his ungainly mirror. "Do you remember that time when some of the teachers came to breakfast in their bathrobes, and their hair in curlers? Maybe Dumbledore wants that NOT to happen again."
"But that was the morning of the visit by Cornelius Fudge, I think," Bea said. "And I certainly can't imagine your Aunt Minerva coming to breakfast with curlers in her hair!"
"Better hurry," said Felix, wolfing down the last of his bacon. "The windows are starting to open."
Giselle covered her eggs and sausage with a cloth napkin. She was too excited to eat anyway. Marsha was one to send really wonderful presents. What would it be this year? Would it be the new bookbag Giselle had hinted at, the one that massaged your back and corrected the misspelled words in your homework?
Here came the loud hum of wings. Shadows swarmed over the open window panes. Then suddenly hundreds of owls were whirling overhead in a kaleidoscope of colors, all sorts of envelopes and packages filling the air above the upstretched arms of students.
As the noisy seconds ticked by, Giselle grew pessimistic. Bea had gotten two letters, but other than that, nothing was coming their way.
Giselle watched a boy close to her catching a brightly gift-wrapped package, so like the wrapping Marsha used. She leaned over and gave a gentle tug on the boy's robe sleeve.
"Excuse me, Herman, but could that possibly be for me?" she asked with a hopeful smile.
"No, it's from me mum."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Tutshill Tornado t-shirts for the warmer weather, is me guess."
"Well... that's nice," Giselle said forlornly. She and Felix were watching Bea opening her letters.
"My sister Parsley has a new job at the Ministry of Magic," Bea announced above the hubbub. "She's the secretary for the assistant head of the Department of Wand Rehabilitation. And this one's from my Uncle Jasper. He's sent me a gift card for Honeydukes!"
"How... very nice."
Just when all looked very hopeless indeed, a stiff finger tapped on Giselle's shoulder.
She turned around on her bench seat. It was Hermione Granger, holding a bulky package in gaudy purple wrap with little bells on the ribbon bow.
"I believe this is for you," said Hermione. "Anyway it says 'Miss McGonagall, Hufflepuff.' I don't know how it got bumped over to the Gryffindor table."
"Oh thanks awfully!"
"Pleasure," Hermione said, handing over the package to the eager hands that couldn't wait to open it. She gave Giselle a curious look, then went off through the drifting feathers , brushing them off her robe.
"Oh it IS!" said Giselle a moment later as the last of the owls whisked through the windows. "A Befriendly Bookbag! And my favorite color, too!"
"You're so lucky," groaned Felix, empty-handed, "and it's not even your birthday yet."
"She's lucky too that tomorrow's Saturday," Bea said, the gift card to her ear, listening. "We'll have a party at Honeydukes. The card says it'll reserve three tables for us. We'll have to think of who to invite!"
The bell rang a few minutes later. Giselle stood, sighing delightedly as the bookbag firmly massaged the small of her back. "I'm putting my homework in it before first period. I just know I've spelled SO many words wrong."
As they were heading for the Entrance Hall, Professor Snape motioned for Giselle to halt.
"A moment," he said, taking out his wand. As Giselle looked up at him with a puzzled expression he ran his wand along the contours of the bookbag.
"Is something wrong, sir?"
Snape gazed down at her inscrutably. "Standard procedure," he said in his low soft voice, like a lion's pur. "Continue," he added, and went ahead of them with his black cape billowing in the crisp breeze through the Entrance doors.
"Whatever," said Bea.
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