Harry sealed the pearl white envelope with wax and shoved it into his shoulder bag. He would send it after breakfast. Mrs. Weasley had invited him to her house over Christmas break and he was sending her a grateful acceptance note.

Later, Hedwig took the envelope in her beak when he offered it to her and then the snowy owl spread her wings and flew out the window. Harry watched her go, his green eyes twinkling with pride. She was the only pet he had ever owned and it always made him happy to see her in flight. She was the image of
freedom he had always longed for.

The next morning Harry was eating breakfast with his friends when Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and pointed towards the ceiling.

“Harry, why is your owl delivering mail to Professor Snape? Don't tell me you are owling him your report!” she said in disbelief.

Harry shook his head. “No. Of course not, 'Mione.”

The Boy-Who-Lived watched in confusion was his bird dipped low over the head table and released a package directly above Professor Snape's bowl of cereal. The food was splashed across his black robe and Harry felt a blush begin to burn his ears.

“Harry!” Hermione squeaked. “Please, tell me you did not send that.”

“I didn't!” he insisted, trying not to look at the head table.

The students around him were starting to notice Snape's predicament and a hushed chattering filled the Great Hall. Harry hunched lower in his seat. He hoped that the potions master did not know who owned the owl.

---

“Mister Potter,” Severus Snape walked up to Harry's desk.

Potions had been a strained, nerve wracking hour for the Gryffindor and now that it was over, he had been hoping to make a quick exit. He swallowed hard at the realization that this was not to be. He sat down and refused to look the Professor in the eyes. He felt guilt eating away at him even though he had done nothing wrong.

“Yes, sir?” he asked quietly.

“Your owl – Hedwig, I believe – brought me a package this morning. Do you know anything about that?” Snape asked evenly.

“No,” Harry said, glancing up and then back at the floor. “I swear, sir.”

“Hm” Snape tapped a long index finger against the wooden desk. “Well, then I am afraid that I must inform you of some bad news.”

Harry felt an overwhelming urge to bolt out of the room before he was hexed into oblivion, but he tremblingly held his ground.

“Sir?” He asked.

“Mrs. Weasley – with whom I believe you have been in contact – has mistakenly sent me your Christmas present. Here.” Without another word, he reached into a pocket and took out a palm sized box which he then re-sized with his wand.

He set the box on the table, turned on his heel and strutted away with robes billowing. Harry sat in stunned silence, blinking for a moment before letting out his breath on one long whoosh. A mistake. It had all been a mailing mistake. He looked down at the box and felt a smile creep across his face.

A warmth spread across his chest. He loved getting gifts from Mrs. Weasley. It would be a jumper, if he was not mistaken. Grabbing up the box, Harry left the classroom and headed for the Gryffindor Tower where he would laugh about the entire affair with his two best friends.