Harry, yer a loony

Harry woke up at 5 o'clock to Ron's heavy snoring. He noticed he was sweating all over and remember he had dreamed about that green light again. He considered simply throwing a pillow at Ron so he could fall back to sleep, but decided to get up to do some early morning Quidditch practice.

It was an icy morning and the Quidditch field was covered in frost. As usual, Hagrid was up defrosting the broomsticks and Harry waved at him. Next to him stood Angelina Johnson, who even though she was more than a head taller than Harry looked tiny in comparison to Hagrid's half giant appearance.
“Harry, are you also here to practice?” shouted Angelina while waving to him.
“Yeah.”
“Perfect, then we can practice together. Get on your broomstick, maybe we can practice blocking some of those common Quidditch fouls that Wood keeps nagging about.”
Harry got up on his broomstick and rose up high in the air.

“Yeah, Slytherin really loves blatching don't they. Would be good to practice for the game later.”

When Harry reached the Great Hall it was full of the delicious smell of scrambled eggs and a quiet chat was heard all over the hall. The sound made Harry feel a bit uneasy, usually there is a cheerful chatter the morning of a big Quidditch match. From the end of the hall Dumbledore nodded at Harry, who was making his way towards the Gryffindor table. He sat down next to Ron and Hermione who were having a heated discussion about trolls.
“No, I read in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that there are only a few wizards in the world who can speak to trolls,” Hermione explained.
“Well, Fred and George say that anyone can speak troll, it's just pointing and grunting,” Ron snapped back and laughed.

Hermione lit up when she saw Harry, relieved that the discussion might end.
“Harry! Where have you been?” she said cheerfully.
“I got up early for some Quidditch practice,” Harry answered.
“Oh Harry! great that you are here, now you can tell Hermione that I am right,” Ron said and to Hermione's disappointment the argument continued.

Later while Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking towards Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry could swear he saw one of the paintings change into one of those landscape paintings that he remembered from muggle hospitals. Just as he was about to say something to the others, Peeves jumped up in front of them dropping a huge water balloon over their heads. Before Harry even reacted, he heard Hermione yell “Protego” and Peeves was suddenly soaking wet.
“AAAAH Ickle Firsties, you will pay for this.” Peeves shouted floating away down the corridor.
“Wow Hermione, that was great,” Ron said laughing.
 

When they reached the classroom they were hit by a smell of garlic. Just as they sat down, Professor Quirrell came hurrying into the classroom with his turban slightly askew.
“W-w-welcome, t-today we are going to continue p-practicing The Curse of the Bogies” stammered Quirrell nervously; there was a big sigh from the whole classroom, since they all had been looking forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts before they found out that Quirrell was going to make the classes into a big snoozefest.

Harry and Ron had started practicing when they heard Draco questioning Quirrell about the vampires he had met in Romania. Quirrell was eagerly telling Draco about his adventures while Draco's goons Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering behind his back. Meanwhile, Neville was standing behind Harry, practicing the Curse of the Bogies on his toad. Suddenly, Harry heard Neville's voice yelling at him to duck but it was too late. Harry saw Rons surprised face, and felt a great pain in his scar; then he fell down to the floor.
 

When Harry woke up he felt disoriented. He looked around the room; in front of him there was another bed, with a painting of a landscape over it. When he looked closer he saw that Neville was sleeping in it. On his right side there was a window which scarlet red and yellow curtains made him feel a little bit calmer.
“Good Morning Harry,” said Ron, who had just walked into the room, happily.
“Ron, you are here!”
“Yeah, of course I am,” Ron laughed “you passed out yesterday so you might feel a bit sore.”
The door opened again and Hermione walked in, wearing a white robe.
”How are you feeling today Harry?” she asked with a soft voice while reading from some kind of chart.
“My head hurts but I feel fine otherwise,” Harry felt a chill and asked “Where is Madame Pomfrey?”
Harry saw a glimpse of surprise in Hermione's face. “Oh, she said you would be fine. She told me to tell you to rest.”
Hermione and Ron started whispering to each other; in the meantime Neville had just woken up. Neville looked over at Harry with a smile on his face and showed him something in his right hand.

“Harry, I found my toad yesterday before bed,” Neville’s face changed to a white color, “and I'm sorry about yesterday Harry, sometimes I don't know how to control myself.”
“It's alright.” Harry couldn’t remember what happened the day before but he had a feeling that no one would tell him the truth if he asked.
Ron turned to Harry again and pointed to a black weird chair with wheels, “So what do you say, do you fancy a stroll down to the lake?”
A few minutes later Harry was being pushed in the chair through the corridor by Ron. They passed a door between two hanging tapestries, on the door there was a big sign that said “No Entry”.
“What is behind that door?” asked Harry.
“The third-floor is out of bounds, so don't worry about that Harry,” Ron answered in an avoiding tone. That just made Harry want to know even more, so when Ron stopped to talk to someone in the corridor, he stood up and pressed his ear against the door. He thought he heard a growling when Ron shouted at him to stop.
“Harry you are supposed to rest, sit down in the chair again!” Ron said in such a harsh tone that Harry felt he had to obey. As soon as Harry sat down Ron rolled the chair all the way to the Great Lake. The lake looked like chilled steel and the ground around it was filled with frost, you could see how the lake was about to freeze solid. On the other side of it Harry spotted a beautiful white stag.

“Ron, look!” Harry said, mesmerised by its beauty and pointed across the lake but the stag was already gone.
“Yeah, isn't it beautiful?” Ron answered, referring to the lake.
All Harry wanted to do was to ask about the third-floor but Ron didn’t seem to want to talk about it. He decided to ask Hagrid about it later instead.

 

                                                                                                     *

The next day Harry was standing in his shared dorm room, looking out the window with the scarlet red and yellow coloured curtains. He was thinking about the dreams he had had again last night: nightmares of green flashes and forbidden doors. He couldn’t make sense of it, and his pondering about it had made him the last one to leave for breakfast. As he stood there, with one sock on his left foot and the other still in his right hand, Ron came in.

“Aren’t you ready yet, Harry?” he said “Come one, get your socks on and let’s go to the Dining Hall! The others must almost be ready at this point.”
Ron went quiet for a moment when he noticed that Harry hadn’t reacted to him coming in, and then continued “How are you feeling, Harry? You look like you haven’t slept all night.”

“Oh. I- I’m fine” Harry answered. “I had a really confusing dream and I was just trying to make sense of it, while it was still fresh in my mind.”

“Alright, as long as nightmares are all that it is!” Ron said and helped Harry with his socks.

They left the dorm and headed for the Great Hall.  On their way there, they went past Hagrid who called them over.

“Hey, Harry, Ron! C’mere, I got something to show yer.”

Hagrid took something out from under his moleskin coat; it almost looked like a cat, Harry thought. Or like a rat. Like a big, black and white-striped cat-rat, but with a big, fluffy tail. The next thing Harry noticed was the smell, but before he could mention it his thought was interrupted by Hagrid.

“I found ‘im outside of me hut. I've decided to call him Stinkbert,” he said, looking at the tiny thing with misty eyes. “He really knows me now, watch. Stinkbert! Stinkbert!! Where's Mummy?”

“He's lost his marbles,” Ron muttered in Harry's ear.
“Hagrid,” he continued “you can’t keep him here. It’s against regulations. What if Snape finds out!”

Hagrid bit his lip. “I- I know I can't jus' dump him, I can't.”

Harry suddenly turned to Ron. “Charlie,” he said.

“You're losing it too,' said Ron. “I'm Ron, remember?”

“Oh, right” said Harry, unsure why he suddenly called Ron by the wrong name. Maybe he was losing it? Or maybe it was that dream still messing with him. He pushed the thought aside and continued “Can I pet him?”

“O’ course yeh can!” exclaimed Hagrid.
“Of course you can’t!” countered Ron. “You’ll spread some kind of disease if you go into the Dining Hall after touching that thing!”

Ron turned to Hagrid, who looked like his feelings was hurt, and said “You really have to get rid of that thing Hagrid.” Then he took Harry’s arm, told him to say goodbye to Hagrid and led him to the Dining Hall.
 

Outside the hall stood Angelina with her broom. It looked like she was sweeping the floor with it and Harry thought it was a very irresponsible way to treat one’s broom in.

“She’ll make us lose the next Quidditch match if she keeps mistreating her broom like that!” Harry said to Ron. “How is she going to fly well with the broom all dusty and bent?”

“What are you on about?” asked Ron confused; but he quickly realized and continued. “I mean, Angelina is one of our best players, dusty broom or not.  Don’t you worry about that.”

They went on to sit down in their usual spot where the rest of Harry’s dormmates had almost finished eating. Harry sat down next to Neville and grabbed some slices of bacon and toast that stood before him and washed it down with some orange juice. In that moment Draco, who had finished his breakfast and was on his way to the common room, stopped and took something that Neville was keeping next to him.

“What’s this then, Longbottom? A diary?” said Draco snickering.

Draco and his goons burst out laughing and Neville answered “It’s a Remember-All!’ he explained. “Gran knows I forget things so she got me this. It tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, I just write things in here that I have to remember and then later, I can just look at what I’ve written, and I won’t forget anything!”

“Oh, that’s precious” Draco said maliciously “I think I’ll keep it.”

Harry, whose patience for Draco’s constant nonsense was growing thin, stood up and told Draco with a stern look to give it back this minute.

“Oh, look at this, boys! Potter, telling me to give it back? I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect instead – how about – in a trash bin?”

As Draco and his goons continued to laugh and discuss what to do with the notebook, Harry could see that Neville was looking more and more nervous without the comfort of his notebook. His fingernails were pressing down in the palms of his hands and he started to waggle back and forth in his seat.

“Give it back. Give it back. Give it back. Give it back”, he kept repeating for himself, over and over again.

“Well now, won’t you look at this?”, said Draco “He’s gone absolutely mental!”

Their heckling was suddenly cut short when Neville let out a thunderous scream:

“GIVE IT BACK!” he shouted so loudly that the whole hall turned around to see what was happening.
Finally the situation had gotten grave enough for the staff to intervene and three of them rushed over and grabbed Neville. As he was carried out from the Dining Hall by the white-robed staff, still screaming for Draco to give back his Remember-All, Draco waved to his goons to follow him to the common room and took no further notice of the distraught Neville. Harry, who had lost his appetite, told Ron that he’d like to go back to his room and take a nap; the whole episode had made him rather tired.
 

Ron followed him back to his room, where Neville now was sleeping so heavily he almost seemed sedated. Before they went in Harry suddenly stopped by the door and looked at the painting of the fat lady with the blue robe next to it. Puzzled, he said to Ron:
“Hey, Ron. Doesn’t the fat lady usually wear a pink robe?”

“Now why would she be doing that, silly? You really are tired, aren’t you? Let’s get you to sleep, now. I’ll come back later with Hermione to check up on you.”
 

Harry quickly fell asleep but was yet again troubled by his dreams; and this time they were more detailed. He dreamt of a door with two words written on it. His eyes couldn’t quite focus on it, but he could see that the first letter seemed to be missing. “edible Hectors”? No, that couldn’t be right. He reached for the handle to open the door but before he got the chance a green flash blazed before his eyes and was followed by a large crash; a sharp pain then pierced his forehead.
 

The pain was still there when he woke up by his own screaming and next to his bed stood Ron and Hermione. Neville was still out cold. Ron put his arms around Harry and told him it was alright, he was safe.

“What is the matter?” asked Hermione with a reassuring and sensible tone.

“I had that dream again,” answered Harry “but it was even more intense than before. My head is aching.”

“I will have someone fetch something for that.” said Hermione. “Do you need something else? You’re sweating, are you hot?”

“I’m actually freezing.” said Harry.

Ron grabbed a blanket; it was a silvery grey and when Ron swept it around Harry’s shoulders it almost looked like flowing water.

“This will keep you safe, Harry.” Ron said. “With this on, you won’t have to worry about anything or anyone!”

Harry immediately felt better. It was as if the world around him disappeared with the comforting blanket around him; or rather like he disappeared from the world. He imagined the blanket being a cloak that turned him invisible, then Ron started talking as a way to comfort Harry even more.

“How about that thing Hagrid showed us before, huh? I went to visit him when you took a nap and I tell you, that thing’s the most horrible animal I’ve ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you’d think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.”

He gave a hearty laugh and Harry laughed with him; they were interrupted by Hermione who cried:
“Hagrid has a what?”

“Oh,” said Ron “nothing! Absolutely nothing. Well, would you look at the time? Hope you’ll feel better Harry, but I have to go! See ya!”

Ron hurried off but Hermione was close behind him; questioning him about what he meant by “that thing”. Harry chuckled at his friends and decided to go visit Hagrid and get his mind of his aching head. He rushed up from his bed and out the door; not noticing that his new invisibility cloak fell to the floor.

When he got to Hagrid’s hut, his head was aching even more from the effort of walking there.  When Hagrid saw him, he exclaimed:

“Yeh look like yeh seen a ghost, Harry! How’re yeh feelin’?”

“I’m alright,” Harry said “I’ve just had some troubling dreams that left my head hurting. But I feel better now. Ron told me that he came to visit you and Stinkbert, so I decided to come as well!”

“Oh, yeah”, said Hagrid with a woeful voice “He said he’ll call ‘is brother to have ‘im take care o’ ‘im, after he bit ‘im. I guess I ‘ave no choice but to let ‘im. But enough ‘bout tha’. What’s with these dreams yeh’re havin’?”

“I don’t know, really.” said Harry “They’ve gotten more and more intense and detailed lately. In the latest one I stood in front of a door with something written on it. There were two words, but the first letter was scratched out, I think, and then it looked like it said something like ‘edible Hectors’. It doesn’t make sense, I know, but I can’t shake this feeling that it’s something important.”

“Heh, tha’ reminds me o’ the ‘Medical Records’ plaque on the third floor,” Hagrid chuckled, “tha’ one has the first letter scratched out too!”

“The third floor? That’s where we’re not allowed to go, right?” Harry said with an eager voice “What’s behind that door? Why do I dream about it? Why is it forbidden? “

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified, realizing what he had done.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey -- where're yeh goin'?"

 

                                                                                                     *
 

Harry hurried out from Hagrid’s hut making his way back to the main building with only one thought pounding in his head. He had to find out what was behind that mysterious door.

Ron stood just outside of the Griffon dorm, he could see Harry’s troubled face. “What’ve you been up to?” Ron said with a smile.
Harry gave him a quick look and then continued into the dorm and his wardrobe.
“Come on Ron, give me a hand with this!” said Harry “I just can’t remember where I put that invisibility cloak of mine, have you seen it? I can’t risk being spotted by Snape.”
Harry stressed as he looked through his belongings, getting more and more irritated. Jumpers were flying in the air as he tore around in his wardrobe. Ron’s smile turned into a worried face. He shifted his weight from one foot to another:
“But Harry, what are you talking about?”

“This is serious Ron, don’t just stand there - help me!”
Harry could not find his silver grey blanket. His head was aching, after a while he sank down on the floor by his bed with a sigh.

The door to the Griffon department flung open and there was Hagrid in his moleskin coat, holding Stinkbert in one hand. When he saw Ron’s desperate face he quickly tucked Stinkbert back into his coat. Instead, he pulled out a wrinkled paper bag, which once upon a time might have had a bright colour.
“‘ey Harry, there ye are! Ye ran of in such a hurry. ‘ave yerself a sweet! An’ let’s forget ’bout what I said, ey?” Hagrid said and winked at Harry.
Ron looked at the bag with disgust and asked “Are you sure he should eat that?”
Hagrid just nodded his big head and smiled at Ron, he opened the bag and offered them some colourful pieces of candy, which looked quite appetizing. Harry, exhausted from the blanket search, put his hand in the weird looking bag and got himself a pink piece of candy. Hagrid then offered the bag to Ron.

“Don’t be shy Weasley! C’mon ‘ave a bite!”
Ron hesitantly put a greenish piece of candy in his mouth, chewed it for a second but then immediately spit it out. “Bleeaaargh --- What on earth was that?! It tasted like liver, or tripe!” “Ye can’t like ‘em all can ye!” Hagrid laughed, his eyes glinting like black beetles.
Harry thought his piece of candy was quite flavorus, the taste almost reminded him of toast. Ron was furious with Hagrid serving candy tasting like intestines to children. Harry didn’t listen to them. He sat on the floor with his back towards his bed; then he felt something soft under his left hand. There, almost hidden under the bed was his silver grey blanket.
“There it is!” Harry said with a relieved smile, picking up the blanket.

“Blimey Harry! It’s already 6 o’clock, you’re late for the Thursday entertainment!“ said Ron, pulling Harry up on his feet.

 

They rushed to the activity room outside of the Eagle department, where the entertainment were to be held. The room was filled with children sitting on chairs in front of two tall clowns, both with flaming red hair. Even Hermione was there. All of the children laughed as one clown tripped over a rabbit that the other clown had picked out of a big hat. Harry was amused by the magic but he just could not stop thinking about the room on the third floor; he felt the soft blanket in his hands as he thought about what could possibly be hiding on the other side of that door.

“Oy! Dr. Granger! C’mere and help, will you?” said one of the clowns.
Hermione had a nervous look on her face as she stepped forward. The clown gave her a wizard cracker and they pulled it. It didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke. The children laughed and screamed with amusement; as the smoke from the small cracker sent of the fire alarm. Everyone in the room quickly got up on their feet and Harry saw his chance. He took his blanket, wrapped it around himself and started to run towards the third floor. No one seemed to have noticed him.

 

When Harry reached the door marked ”No Entry”, he hesitated for a moment; then he pushed the tapestries aside and opened the door. He ran up the stairs and immediately recognised the door from his dreams. He felt a quick flicker in his chest; as Hagrid had told him, the letters on the door did indeed form the words “’edical Records”. Slowly he pressed down the door knob and stepped into the room, his heart by then twanging like a giant elastic band. The room had bright lights and was filled with shelves reaching from the floor up to the roof. Harry walked through the room, not knowing exactly what he was looking at or searching for. After a while he saw a shelf with the Griffon department’s name on it. He let his fingers swipe over the binders which were stacked on the shelves. Every binder had a name on it. Harry all of a sudden stopped: “Harry Potter.” he whispered.
He gently pulled the binder with his name out from its place on the shelf; it had a stack of papers inside of it.
“What is this?” Harry said staring at the binder.
Suddenly he looked up as he heard a sound from outside of the room. He took the binder, wrapped himself in his blanket, opened the door, and quickly ran back to his room, not noticing Ron on the other side of the corridor.

“Hey, Harry there you are! What’ve you got there! Wait!” Ron yelled, as he started to run after Harry.
 

                                                                                                      *

Due to Ron’s poor physique, Harry had no problem to outrun him. Harry ran down the stairs, through the corridors, and finally reached the entrance to the Griffon department when someone suddenly stopped him. It was Snape, looking angrier than ever.

“Harry Potter.” Snape said with a coldness that could make even the bravest person freeze.

“What have you done this time?” Snape continued.

Harry looked down at the binder in his hands, angry with himself that he didn’t open it before he ran. Snape snatched it from Harry’s hands; meanwhile, Ron came running, out of breath.

“Sorry Doctor, I really tried to stop him.” Ron said with shame in his voice.

Snape snorted while turning around, clearly not accepting Ron’s apology.

“I expect you to take care of this, nurse Weasley. There will be consequences.” Snape said harshly as he walked away.

Harry was more confused than ever. Why would his best friend try to stop him? Why wasn't his invisibility cloak working? Why on earth was Ron helping Snape, after all mean things Snape had done? Harry couldn’t sort the thoughts in his mind; there were too many. He finally looked up at Ron, whose face started to look more like a tomato.

“Ron, why did you try to stop me?” said Harry. “I thought you wanted to help me.”

Ron looked ashamed, he could barely look Harry in the eyes.

“I did what I had to do, Harry. You shouldn’t have sneaked in to that room, you know it’s forbidden.” Ron answered.

“Why did that binder have my name on it? Why can’t I read it?” Harry continued.

“I’m really sorry Harry, I can’t tell you that. I think you should go to bed and get some rest now, it’s late.” said Ron.
 

Ron led Harry in to the Griffon dorm and made sure that Harry got in to bed. Harry looked disappointed and a bit confused, which troubled Ron.  

“Listen,” Ron whispered, afraid that he would wake the other patients up. “I promise you that it’s better if you don’t know. What’s in the binder, I mean.”

Harry nodded, knowing that Ron would never tell him. As Ron left the room, Harry began to feel dizzy. He had been so preoccupied with his search for the secret on the third floor that he had forgot about his pounding headache. It had gotten worse since those terrible nightmares had come to him. His scar itched and he began to scratch it, knowing it was a bad idea. If the teachers knew he was scratching they would give him a spell to calm him down, and Harry had no interest in feeling tired and exhausted the next day. He was still determined to find out about what was in that binder. The more he pondered, the more tired Harry got, and soon he fell asleep.
 

                                                                                                    *

 

Harry woke up drenched in sweat. It was the same nightmare again: The green lightning, the screams, the crash, and the pounding in his head. He took a quick look around the room. It was still dark and his dormmates were asleep. He decided to get up and drink some water, maybe it could help ease the headache, he thought. As he walked by the entrance to the dorm, he noticed that the door wasn’t completely closed. Outside the door he heard familiar voices. Harry could tell it was Dumbledore and Snape talking, and there was a woman’s voice too: it was Hermione. Harry knew eavesdropping was frowned upon, but his curious and snooping traits made him do it anyway.

“We can’t keep doing this, Dumbledore.” Snape said with a slight disturbed tone.

“Yes, yes. You are right. The boy deserves to know.” The Chief of the hospital answered.

“Not only does he deserve to know the truth, if he is to have a chance for a normal life, we have to help him deal with the trauma.” Snape said, even more irritated now. “His mother wouldn’t have liked this, I’m sure of it.” he continued.

Hermione, who had been quiet for most part of the conversation, stepped in:

“I have been Harry’s doctor for almost five months now, and according to some medical books regarding Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, if the child create his/her own world to cope with the trauma, you should let it do so. Otherwise there is a risk of causing more damage to the child.”

“Nonsense!” Snape snapped. “I don’t know what quackery books you have read Dr. Granger, but I for one refuse to keep playing these magic-- wizard-- charades!”

Snape, who had turned too upset to keep participating in the conversation, left the hallway. Dumbledore looked at Hermione with a crooked smile, patting her gently on the shoulder.

“It’s for the best Hermione, we have tried this know for a while, and the boy is not getting any better.” Dumbledore said.

Suddenly, Hagrid who just got of his first night-shift, came walking towards them.

“Hey Chief, hey Doctor. How’s yer night?” Hagrid said, blissfully unaware about the night’s drama.

“Harry found his medical records.” said Hermione. “Snape wants us to tell him the truth about the car crash and the trauma, and not go along with his imaginary world anymore.”

Hagrid’s face turned white, and his eyes were filled with guilt.

“S-s-sorry.” sobbed Hagrid “It’s all my fault.” “My big mouth.” Hagrid whimpered.

At this point Harry, who had heard the whole conversation, came bursting out.

“I’m-- I’m- I’m not a wizard?” Harry looked shocked, starting to scratch his forehead.

“I’m not a wizard, I’m not a wizard, I’m not a wizard!” Harry continued, scratching his forehead even more intensely.

Hagrid stopped him, lifted him up and shook him gently.

“No Harry, yer a looney! Calm down, will ya!” Hagrid shouted.

“Hagrid!” Dumbledore looked mad. “Let the boy down!”

But Harry was uncontrollable. He was screaming and fighting with his arms trying to get out of Hagrid’s grip. Tears were streaming down his face and he breathed heavily. Dumbledore gave Hermione a worried look “Dr. Granger, please give the boy something to calm him down”.

 

                                                                                                    *

The frosty night was calm and still, stars had begun to sprinkle glitter over the dark sky. The cold took a grip of the Hogwarts ground, not a motion was to be seen on the Great Lake in front of the hospital building. Through the windows of the silent corridors the full moon shone its silver light. In the Griffon department, Harry had finally managed to fall asleep, exhausted, sad, and confused. His head was pounding and his forehead was filled with scratch marks. The dorm was just as still as the winter cold night; not a sound except for the soft calm breathing of Harry and the other children: all fast asleep.

But then, suddenly, there was a sound from the window. There, on the other side of the frosty glas, sat a beautiful snowy white owl. It was softly and repeatedly tapping the window with its tiny beak; it was holding an envelope, made of yellowish parchment. There was no stamp.