Chapter Text
Boscha had never wanted to go to The Owl House. She despised the thought of it. Seeing the riff raff criminal and her human “apprentice”. Humans can’t do magic; how Luz Noceda managed to enroll in Hexside was far beyond her.
I mean, it was bad enough that Amity wanted Boscha to stop being mean to Half-a-Witch, but now she was supposed to be friends with a human? The very idea of it was absurd.
Yet, Boscha was a loyal friend. She agreed to accompany Amity to The Owl House so she could, what? Boscha had her suspicions about Amity’s feelings for the human, and she sensed that they were about to be realized.
Boscha could see Amity talking to herself silently the whole way there, as if rehearsing what she would say to Luz when they got to The Owl House. Boscha didn’t care though, she just looked at Penstagram on her scroll.
Eventually, however, they came upon the eggshell and Yale colored facade of the building. Boscha looked up at the large eye-shaped window that seemed to be taking up most of the second story wall, and hesitinaty blinked her third eye.
“HOOT!”
Boscha was snapped back to reality by the shrill voice that seemed to becoming from somewhere in front of her. She looked towards the door, but saw nothing other than a surprisingly cute-looking owl engraved upon the lacquer door. Then, the owl opened its mouth.
“Hoot, hoot! I’m Hooty the Owl, gatekeeper of the Owl House, Hoot!”
Suddenly, Boscha felt like she couldn’t breathe. His voice, although distinctly ridiculous (almost like some sort of nerdy man talking in an annoyingly scratchy falsetto voice), was somehow… charming? The way he effortlessly rolled over the sharp-sounding syllables, like a roller ghoster going over a series of ridged slopes.
“Hi, Hooty,” Amity’s voice broke Boscha’s train of thought. “Is Luz home? I, uh, I wanted to talk to her.”
“Well sure!” Hooty replied. “She’s just inside, I’m sure she’d looove to see you, hoot, hoot!”
“Thanks Hooty.” Amity opened the door, then paused to look at Boscha. “Could you, maybe, wait out here?”
Boscha sighed and rolled her eyes, wondering why Amity had even asked her to come along. “Fine, whatever.”
“Thanks Boscha. I’ll be right out!” With that, Amity went inside and closed the door behind her.
Now, it was just Boscha and Hooty. She continued to scroll through Penstagram, trying to ignore Hooty as he attempted to eat a fly that was three inches from his face.
After hearing him struggle for a few long minutes, Boscha sighed again and reached into her pocket. She pulled out an eye-pop and held it in front of Hooty.
“Oh wow! A gift for me, hoot, hoot! Thanksss!” Then, his face extended off of the door, stayed attached to it with a thick brown tube. Boscha jumped back, almost dropping the treat in her hand.
“I… did not know you could do that.” Boscha managed to stutter out. She wondered why he didn’t do that earlier when he was chasing the fly, but Boscha didn’t say anything about it. Hooty grabbed the eye-pop in his mouth and began to suck on it.
“Sooo,” he began through the treat in his mouth. “You come here offfteennn?”
“Uh, no, actually.” Boscha said, keeping none of the sass from her voice.
“Oooh, welll, that’s too baaad.” Hooty seemed to be getting closer to her. Boscha put one foot slightly behind her, but then stopped herself before she could take a full step back. She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted to be closer to him, too. So, she took a step forward.
“Yes, I suppose it is too bad. Maybe I should come here more frequently.”
“Hoot?” This time, when he said it, it wasn’t an exclamation at the end of a sentence. It was a question. A question that couldn’t be said out loud, for fear of the wrong answer. It was a question that could only be understood by someone with the same thought.
“Yes,” Boscha muttered, before taking Hooty’s face in her hands and pulling him forward until their lips touched. His lips were hard, and firm, like a beak. She supposed that it was a beak, seeing as how he was an owl. Then, realization hit her and she pulled away.
“I…” she couldn’t form the right words. Was this… right? He was, what? An owl, a house? An Owl House. I guess that’s where it got its name. “I have a lot to think about. Goodbye, Hooty.” She turned and left, not even bothering to wait for Amity.
“Goodbye Boschaaaa! I’ll always remember what happened, hoot!”
Boscha would always remember too. This was something that would go away with a good night’s sleep, or even a week of mindless scrolling through Penstagram. Hooty would stay in mind that night, as she lay awake in her bed. She ran through the events of the evening, trying to pin down her thoughts and emotions on the matter. She could not. There was only one solution. To see Hooty again.