Zara wandered into Eeylops, hoping to find a cute enough owl to fit her Uncle Rabastan’s description. An eagle owl could do, she thought, but the screech owls are cuter. Decisions, decisions…
“Sir,” she called to the man at the desk, “how much for this little one?”
She pointed to a particularly small screech owl that seemed to be looking at her.
“Ten Galleons,” the man said, turning round to face her. “Oh, you want her? I don’t think you should, lass; she was returned a while ago by a boy who said that the owl would peck at him every time he went near her.”
Zara raised herself to full height and approached the tiny owl, holding her hand out to the cage. The owl immediately came at her, slowly, and nipped her finger affectionately.
“Well I’ll be damned, lass; I think she likes you,” the man said. “Ten Galleons, please.”
Zara handed over the money and took down the cage. She perused various names through her head as she exited the shop, and finally settled on DiNocta, which, from her Latin lessons taken as a young girl, meant ‘Gods of night’. That certainly would do.