The owl emporium sat nestled between a parchment shop and a magical menagerie, its carved wooden sign swaying slightly above the door: Eeylops Owl Emporium. The interior was dim and cool, lined with cages stacked to the ceiling. The sounds of soft rustling wings and the occasional sharp hoot echoed through the space. Myrddin stepped inside and blinked as his eyes adjusted.
It was unlike anything he'd experienced. Owls of every kind perched in elegant silence or blinked at him from shadowed corners—barn owls, tawny owls, screech owls, even an enormous eagle owl with golden eyes that seemed to see straight through him.
But one cage stood out.
Near the back, kept slightly apart from the others, was a reinforced iron cage lined with thick frost and chunks of glistening ice. Perched calmly within, atop a wedge of translucent blue, was a white owl unlike any Myrddin had ever seen. Her feathers were snowy and luminous, with streaks of black around her face and chest that resembled swords. Her eyes, cold and blue with a glint of gold at the center, locked onto his.
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"That one," he said, immediately.
The shopkeeper, a portly man with a chart of owl diets tucked under one arm, hesitated. "Ah, she's... uncommon. Likes the cold. We keep her icebound or she gets aggressive. Not a good fit for most—"
"I'll take her," Myrddin said again, firm this time.
The owl tilted her head, as if in agreement.
McGonagall approached silently, studying the creature. "You've got a sharp eye. That one's no ordinary bird."
The shopkeeper nodded and retrieved a thick pair of gloves before carefully opening the cage. Frost hissed faintly as it escaped. He coaxed the owl into a travel-safe cage, which was charmed to maintain her preferred chill.
"She'll need special feed," he said, handing over a small booklet. "Cold-tolerant breed. Mostly small game, frozen meat works best. She also needs regular contact with magically sustained ice—enchanted glacier stone if you can get it. Otherwise, she becomes cranky."
Myrddin nodded, listening carefully as he accepted the book and paid. He looked at the owl again, her feathers now steaming faintly in the warmer air.
"I'll name her Artemis," he murmured.
The owl blinked slowly, solemnly, and then closed her eyes as if approving.
McGonagall stepped forward, reaching through the bars. Artemis didn't flinch. With quiet precision, McGonagall plucked a single feather from her side.
"For Hogwarts' wards," she explained, storing the feather in a leather pouch. "Every familiar is registered in the school's protections. This will allow her free flight across the grounds without triggering defenses."
They spent the next half-hour gathering supplies for Artemis: a frost-rune-lined perch, specialized chilled feed packets, enchanted cleaning tools for the cage, and a cloak charm to shield her from warm weather when traveling. All items were carefully stowed and temporarily shrunk for easier carrying.
By the time they returned to the Leaky Cauldron, Myrddin's arms were full again. Tom, the barkeep, helped arrange the supplies into a back room for safekeeping.
"Won't be disturbed," Tom assured him, locking the door with a twist of his wand. "Safe as Gringotts."
With the heavy purchases stowed away for the moment, McGonagall gave Myrddin a nod. "Let's pay a visit to King's Cross. You'll need to know how to reach the platform when the time comes."
They took a walk from Charing Cross Road. Myrddin watched as the alleys of wizarding London faded into the orderly bustle of the Muggle world. He held Artemis's cage carefully on his lap, though she seemed to be napping in her cold shell.
When they arrived at the station, McGonagall led him through the tiled halls, weaving between passengers with practiced ease. Eventually, they stood between platforms nine and ten.
"This is where the barrier is," she explained, gesturing to the solid wall between the platforms. "You'll need to walk straight toward it, briskly and with confidence. It won't let you through if you hesitate."
Myrddin raised an eyebrow. "You're serious."
She gave a tight smile. "I always am. Come September first, you'll walk through that wall and find yourself on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, where the Hogwarts Express awaits."
He studied the wall for a long moment. People passed by, oblivious to the magic hidden in plain sight. Artemis stirred slightly, cold mist curling out from her cage.
"And if I miss it?" he asked.
"You won't."
They stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the foot traffic. Finally, McGonagall turned to lead them back out.
They returned to the Leaky Cauldron, retrieved their belongings, and Tom arranged for the goods to be transported magically back to Myrddin's cabin in the woods.
The sun was well on its way down when they reached the edge of the forest. Myrddin stepped into the clearing where his little house sat—half-covered in moss, stones damp with recent rain, the trees bowing in silent greeting.
McGonagall stood at the edge of the clearing.
"I won't come in," she said. "But before I leave, a reminder."
She pointed to a moss-covered rock just off the path.
"Your Portkey," she said. "I left it enchanted when we first met. It will remain active. Should you need to return to Diagon Alley, touch it. You'll arrive just outside the Leaky Cauldron."
Myrddin nodded. "Understood."
"And take care of that owl," she added, with a final glance at Artemis. "She looks like she could survive a war."
"I think she already has," Myrddin said softly.
McGonagall offered the faintest of smiles, turned, and disappeared with a crack of Apparition.
He was alone again—but not quite.
Artemis stirred in her cage, feathers ruffling like snow in a storm. Myrddin knelt beside her, unlocked the cage door, and let her step out onto her frost-lined perch.
She fluffed up, exhaled a gust of cold air, and settled.
Myrddin sat back on the grass, looking up at the darkening sky, and for the first time in days, let silence fall around him.
And in the hush, he knew: things were changing. He was changing.