Chapter 53. Toy Owl
After Duncan left, the Headmaster's office was shrouded in silence.
"Dumbledore, what are you thinking about?
What exactly did that lad Duncan tell you?"
Phineas had returned to the office.
Sensing the strange atmosphere, he rather regretted having left.
Had he known, he would have stayed even if it meant enduring Duncan's mockery.
Judging by everyone's faces, he had clearly missed a big scoop!
Could it be that Dumbledore's illegitimate child, hidden away for years, had been discovered?
If that were true… would the one imprisoned in the high tower of Nurmengard break out and stir up another storm?
Phineas spun out all manner of melodramatic scenarios in his head, coughed twice, and opened his mouth to speak.
"It's about Harry Potter's disappearance.
He discovered something new and came to tell me," said Dumbledore.
"Oh…" Phineas answered in disappointment, instantly losing interest, and withdrew to his corner to sleep.
Dumbledore gave Phineas a curious glance, then walked to a black cabinet at the side.
He opened the door.
Inside stood a shallow stone basin whose rim was carved with oddly shaped letters and symbols.
Within lay a silvery substance, like constantly flowing molten silver, or like drifting white cloud softly revolving.
Dumbledore drew his wand from his robes and pressed the tip to his silver hair near his temple.
When he withdrew the wand, fine strands clung to the tip and floated in the air.
Dumbledore shook the strands into the Pensieve, then took the stone basin in his long hands and slowly turned it.
Gradually, an image rose within the basin.
Another Dumbledore stepped out of it, and seemed to be in Newt's home.
"Dumbledore, you're finally here," Newt let out a long breath.
He looked anxious and hurried forward to meet him.
"How are things?" Dumbledore asked, a grave glint in his eyes.
"You'll see when you look for yourself."
Newt pointed toward the window.
"They've been keeping watch outside, and I can't drive them off no matter what."
Dumbledore nodded and went to the window.
Through the door left slightly ajar, his gaze fell on the scene outside, and his brow knit of its own accord.
Beyond the yard, the edge of the forest was packed with owls.
Keen eyes surveyed the surroundings, like bodyguards standing sentinel.
"When did they arrive?" Dumbledore asked.
"Since yesterday afternoon," Newt answered at once, almost without thinking.
Dumbledore was about to ask another question when, from behind, there came the clear cry of a newborn.
All the owls outside began hooting in unison.
Their calls interwove with the infant's crying, composing a kind of anthem.
When the crying ceased, the owls on the branches spread their wings and flew off in all directions, as though their task were complete.
"Is the doctor you invited to deliver the baby trustworthy?" Dumbledore's tone grew slightly stern.
"She's been Tina's friend for years," Newt said with a glance behind him.
"Good," Dumbledore's voice relaxed considerably.
"This child puts me in mind of a little story recorded in a book…"
"What story?" Newt asked, baffled.
Beyond the realm of fantastic beasts, his knowledge was nowhere near as broad as Dumbledore's.
Dumbledore shook his head lightly and did not answer at once.
He simply looked straight ahead and fell into thought.
"Dumbledore?" Phineas called.
Dumbledore came back to himself and stirred the image in the Pensieve to nothing with his wand.
Phineas asked curiously, "What on earth happened?
Does it have to do with that boy?"
"It's nothing, Phineas.
All is well," Dumbledore said in an even tone.
Only his eyes flickered, like the thoughts rippling through his mind.
Hufflepuff dormitory.
The workshop inside Duncan's suitcase.
On the broad long table sat a cauldron.
Pale-blue liquid rolled within, puffing out hot vapour with soft pops.
Neville sat beside the cauldron, watching the little flame with intense focus, guarding against the heat growing too high.
Duncan leaned in a corner, sitting on a big chest, muttering under his breath.
If anyone had been close enough to listen carefully, they would have heard him murmuring, "God bless, Merlin bless…"
After a few dozen seconds, Duncan's eyes flew open.
He whispered in delight, "Devoutness is indeed rewarded!"
Duncan opened his inventory.
In the last slot lay the item he had just drawn: a finely crafted mechanical owl.
Its body was fashioned of brass-coloured metal.
Its feathers and pupils were blue.
Its belly was hollowed out to show meshing gears turning slowly.
At the rear was a tiny winding key—the device that powered it.
Duncan took out the owl.
It was cool and weighty in his hand.
He looked to the description.
[Toy Owl: As its name implies, it is a toy designed for children aged five to six.
Tap the owl's head and it will sing a cheerful, pleasant ditty.
Turn the winding key at its rear one full circle, tell it the recipient, and it will safely deliver your letter.]
[Note 1: If you encounter life-threatening danger, try winding a few more circles.
It may give you a surprise.]
[Note 2: Do not use the above method in crowded places or at home, or you may be in for a mixed-doubles beating.]
"Duncan, what's that in your hand?"
Bored from lying there, Neville had noticed the thing Duncan was holding.
His eyes shone.
"A toy?" Duncan raised an eyebrow, uncertain.
He followed the instructions, moved his hand to the mechanical owl's head, and gave it a light tap.
The owl's head turned stiffly.
Its sharp beak opened with agonising slowness.
What came out was a rasping, grating noise.
"This is a cheerful, pleasant ditty?
Who are you trying to fool!"
Duncan looked at the blurb and grumbled in dissatisfaction.
But just as he was about to shut the owl up and end the torment, laughter suddenly sounded beside him.
He turned his head at once.
Neville's mouth was stretched wide as he laughed, tears standing in the corners of his eyes.
He clutched his belly with both hands and rocked back and forth.
He looked about to laugh himself breathless—and drop dead then and there.
"Good grief, so this is how it cheers people up.
The approach is a bit rough…"
Duncan stared, eyes wide, and hurried to make the owl stop.
Neville's mouth had gone stiff from laughing.
One hand propped his jaw, the other pressed his head, and he managed to close it with difficulty.
His mouth corners still twitched now and then, and a silly snort burst out despite him.
"Neville, are you all right?" Duncan stepped forward at once, asking with concern.
"N-no… I'm fine…" Neville worked his mouth and mumbled, indistinct.
Then his eyes fixed on the owl in Duncan's hand, filled with fear.
"The moment I heard it, I just couldn't help laughing.
I couldn't control it at all…"
"Neville, that was an accident.
It's safe now.
Don't be afraid," said Duncan.
"Don't—don't come any closer!" Neville raised both hands.
"Keep that thing away from me!"
"Easy, easy!"
Duncan hugged the owl and moved farther off.
Only then did Neville exhale in relief.
"I wonder how its post-delivery function is…"
Duncan thought for a moment, then scribbled a note at random.
He carefully turned the winding key one full circle.
"Deliver this to Fred for me."
The mechanical owl nodded in a very human-like way, clamped the slip in its beak, and shot straight upward like a rocket.
Before Duncan could react, there was a boom, as if something had crashed violently into something else.
"My suitcase lid isn't even open yet!"
Duncan dashed out—only to hear two more resounding bangs.
This system's descriptions really aren't reliable at all!
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