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Before succumbing to sleep upon falling onto the sofa opposite the fireplace he stumbled out of, Harry had imagined being woken up in the morning. He had dreamed of hot tea and the soft lips of his wife and maybe even an overly sweet bowl of porridge. Harry had not imagined something violently pecking at the back of his head. “Wha-OW!”
Trying to fend of the attacker – an animal or something along the lines- with one hand, Harry blindly felt around for his wand. Of course his glasses as well as his wand had disappeared during the night. As he found his glasses and tried to slide them onto his nose, the thing – was it an owl? - pecked him right in the back of his hand with which he defended himself. “Oh fuc-”
With his vision back, Harry sat up and scooted away from the bird that kept attacking him lividly. The pigeon – or flying rats as Uncle Vernon used to call them - was making angry demon noises at him as it tried to fly at his face. His wand finally in his grip, Harry was searching his brain for a clean way to make the nasty bird vanish when Ginny entered the arena.
“Harry! What are you doing?” To Harry’s astonishment, Ginny was grabbing the vile bird from the air – Seeker reflexes were strong with this one - and hugging it to her chest. Cooing at the pigeon – was she soothing that thing? - she glared at Harry reproachfully.
“What am I doing? What the bloody hell are you doing? That bird was trying to crack my skull open and have my brain for breakfast!” Harry was sure he was on the verge of screeching. His wife, it seemed, had lost her bloody mind.
“No, he wouldn’t do that. He was, I think he thought you were an intruder.” Harry gaped at Ginny, gobsmacked.
“An intruder? What, is that thing your guard dog or something?”
“His name is Arlowiell and he’s, ehm, our new pet.” Ginny had the decency to blush at least a little. She gave Harry a timid grin when he simply gaped at her. “He’s a wonderful pigeon. And you know, Audrey told me muggles used to have pigeons deliver their post, like we have owls. Maybe-”
“No. Bloody no.” Harry shook his head vehemently. “How did you even manage to get a pet pigeon? I was gone for 3 days!”
“Harry, don’t be mean!” Ginny glared at him and pet her pigeon softly. “Look, I had to take him home. I was taking Teddy for a walk and we ended up at the park feeding the birds.” Harry was shortly distracted by the concern of his godson touching that dirty bird. Before he could voice his fear, Ginny continued stubbornly. “The other pigeons were bullying Arlowiell. He might have died!”
“Well, he’s a pigeon!” Harry realised his tone was rather harsh and backtracked. After all he knew Ginny was easily bored now that she had to stay home. “Gin, we talked about this. The neighbourhood cats you’ve been feeding are one thing, Merlin – I was okay with the porcupette you fostered for your team mate – but this is crazy! You can’t just adopt feral animals right and left!”
Harry’s outburst seemed to aggravate Arlowiell – at least as much as Ginny - and the bird began to wiggle so wildly in Ginny’s hand that she had to let him go. Instantly the pigeon flew at Harry who barely had time to yank his hands up to shield his face. Arlowiell sat down on Harry’s mop of hair and reverted to pecking at Harry’s scalp. “Ow, fuck! Ginny, if you don’t get this thing off of me I’ll use my wand, I swear I will!”
“Alright don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Harry was sure Ginny was rolling her eyes at him, but he wasn’t about to let his hands down. “Maybe if you were nice to him-”
“I don’t want to be nice to him- I want him out!” Harry might or mightn’t been screeching again. Ginny picked the bird out of his hair – not without pulling a fair amount of hair out along – and cuddled it to her chest. Harry wasn’t to proud to stoop to begging. “Just, please please please Gin. We’ll get a dog- whatever. Just don’t make me live with that bird.”
“Oh that’s low even for you, Potter. Last time you refused to have a dog when we’re so busy.” Ginny glared at Harry suspiciously. “And now you want me to trade one pet for another?”
“That bird is not a pet!” Harry was exhausted. Heaving himself up from the sofa, he gave Ginny an exasperated look. “Whatever. I’ll take a shower. At least get a cage or something.”
When Harry got out of the shower, he walked into the kitchen and was met in the kitchen by a kiss from his wife, a bowl of porridge, a cup of tea and no bird whatsoever. After breakfast Ginny was talking him through the perfect dog breeds for them and never mentioned the cursed bird again. Which didn’t mean she didn’t share her breakfast with Arlowiell every other day when the pigeon came pecking at their kitchen window to visit her. In the end, that way she got away with two pets.