"I'm sure the dog will appreciate it," Harry says with a smile, shifting the gifts in his arms a bit so as not to drop them. It's the perfect sort of night for a walk, he thinks, as he and Maria make their way back to Candlewood. While still cold, the night is not freezing, and the stars flickering above them cast everything in a silver glow.

"I am aware of that by now, yes," he answers. He's more than used to the weird looks he gets in Darrow; the sort of weird looks he got in London. "But Hedwig is wonderful, and I wouldn't trade her for anything."

He likes spending time with Maria; he likes walking beside her and holding her gifts. He doesn't notice, in his usual fashion, her attempts to stall for time.