"Love is like the wind, you can't see it but you can feel it."

― Nicholas Sparks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were all currently at Diagon Alley buying supplies for our fourth year at Hogwarts. Aberforth had decided to come with us and help the Zabinis with watching over fourteen kids in such a crowded place.

The three adults split us up into two groups of five with one group of four. Tom and I naturally accompanied Aberforth, seeing as he was our guardian in the first place.

The second he'd seen us, he'd raced over and engulfed us both in the biggest and warmest hug of the century. I hadn't realized how much I saw him as a father figure until now. Seeing the impassive yet gentle look on Tom's face when he hugged Aberforth back, I was positive he agreed.

Although it was still a tad bit awkward between Tom and me, I acted as if nothing had happened that night in the kitchen. If it never happened, it couldn't hurt me. Tom, seeing what I was doing, never brought it up once.

I was ecstatic Tom finally had a proper parental figure to look up to. I knew from experience it was hard being an adult at such a young age.

Along with us, Lestrange and Rosier accompanied us to Flourish and Blotts first.

Upon entering Flourish and Blotts, I'm greeted instantly with the familiar layout. The store was always filled to the brim with books. Shelves upon shelves lined the walls, from ceiling to floor. It was a wonder anyone ever found anything in here.

I eye my Hogwarts letter. The one we had all gotten a couple weeks back. Fourth-year students, in preparation for our O.W.Ls had to take harder courses. I stroll around, looking at all the books in awe and fascination.

I pick up some of the books I needed as I walked through the store. Aberforth had left to buy something, stating he'd be back in a bit. "Magical Drafts and Potions. Magical Drafts and Potions." I muttered, trying to find the latest potions book I had to get. I'd gotten a couple books for my classes, including; The Rune Dictionary, Intermediate Transfiguration, Ancient Runes Made Easy, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and The Standard Book of Spells Grade Four. I still needed books for Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts.

A book is placed on my ever-growing pile, and I look up to find Lestrange smirking at me. "Hurry along, Dumbledore. Everyone else is already finished." He states, and I groan, staring down to see that it was the book I'd been looking for.

"I still need Defence Against the Dark Arts," I grumble, and he rolls his eyes, grabbing my wrist and shoving me in the short line that was growing larger.

"Wait here. I'll get you a copy." He disappears before I could thank him.

I plop my books at the counter and smile at the receptionist who looked ready to kill herself and every customer here.

She counts out the amount I have to pay and ends up glaring at Lestrange when he slams The Dark Forces: A Self Guide to Protection on the counter. I hand over the amount I needed to pay and carry the books outside to where I see Tom and Rosier waiting for us impatiently.

"Could you two be any slower. I need a new cauldron." Rosier groans and Lestrange rolls his eyes.

"Calm down, Radcliff." He sneers at his friend. "Dumple here was gazing at every little thing she saw."

"Hey! It's called window shopping, you dingus!" I snap at the blue-eyed boy.

The three boys give me an are you kidding me look, and I groan. "I hate shopping with boys," I grumble and start to walk in the direction of the potion's shop.

"Where are you going, Dumple?" Tom drawls, as he and the boys trailed me.

"Didn't Rosier want to go to Slug and Jiggers'?" I ponder, calling to them without looking back.

"Yes!" I hear Rosier demand. "No one usually listens to me." He cheers, rushing over to stroll beside me. I smile at him, and he returns the favour.

We arrive at the shop, and we get all the potion ingredients we needed for potions this semester, waiting while Rosier bought another extremely expensive cauldron.

"Seriously, dude?" Lestrange gives his friend a look. "Forty galleons for a cauldron. Are you kidding me?" He asks, sighing. "You're going to go broke. Your future family is going to be so poor because of your spending habits, I'll have to adopt your kids for them to survive."

"Who says I'd want you to look after my kids?" Rosier demands.

"What? You'd want Tom to? He'd murder the little buggers."

"Don't call my kids buggers."

"You aren't pregnant yet, Rosier, calm down." I laugh at him, causing Lestrange to chuckle and Rosier to grumble at being unappreciated among his friends.

"AWWWW IS WITTLE ROSIER HURT!?" Lestrange calls, pinching his friend's cheeks.

"LEAVE me alone, ABE!!" Rosier demands at him.

"Did everyone get what they wanted?" Aberforth interrupts the argument with a humoured smile. He had a couple bags on him as well.

"Yeah, we did." I smile up at my cousin, and his face softens into a grin.

"Let's go get lunch, yeah?" He asks, and he motions us to follow after him. Tom and I decide to flank our parental figure with Lestrange and Rosier, still arguing a meter behind us.

Aberforth hands each of us a huge bag. "For you, my loves." He smiles at us, and we gaze at him in confusion.

I open the bag to find a huge ass cage and in the centre of it was a beautiful male owl. "Oh my gosh." I breathe.

The little baby was fast asleep and cooing.

My heart softened, just staring at the chick. He was solid black with a spotted belly.

I look in Tom's direction to find him staring at a pure white baby owl in shock. The little thing sends a hoot in Tom's direction, and the shock on Tom's face was absolutely precious.

"You bought us owls?" I breathe in shock. The utter tender gesture was making me tear up a little.

"Everyone needs an owl. I noticed neither of you had one." He smiles at us, patting both of our heads, softly.

"Come on now, my children. Let's get lunch." He says, staring at the both of us softly.

"Thank you," I whisper at Aberforth, rushing to engulf him in a hug. "Thank you so much!"

"Also, a belated birthday present for both of you," Aberforth admits sheepishly. "Why didn't you tell me your birthday was in July! Or you, Tom... in December!" He scolds us. "You are fourteen now." He looks at us.

I grin sheepishly. "Didn't want to make it a big deal," I admit, and he glares at us.

"Thank you, Aberforth. This owl truly means a lot." Tom admits, his charming persona turning on.

My cousin just grins at him, wrapping an arm around each of us and pulling us towards the Leaky Cauldron so we could have lunch.

"What are you naming her?" I ask Tom as the five of us sat at a round table in the corner. He shrugs, staring at the owl in fascination.

"Have you decided on a name for him?" He eyes my owl in interest.

I eye my baby bird with adoration. "Caligo," I say, and he purses his lips.

"Latin for darkness." Rosier points out, munching on his fries. "Smart."

I eye the baby bird beside Tom's leg, and I smile a bit. "I know what you should name her."

"What? I can't keep calling her white bird." He mutters, annoyed.

"Hedwig," I state, and he stops and thinks about it for a second. He blinks in surprise and glances down at his owl.

"Hedwig?" He tests out the waters and the little bird hoots in approval, making him shrug. "Hedwig, it is." He decides, and I couldn't help the massive grin that spread on my face. 

You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.

― J.K. Rowling