A crow.
Cedric had expected an owl.
With McGonagall’s personality it seemed the natural choice.
What she handed him was something else entirely.
At the word “crow” his mind supplied memories from the year in the woods—encounters, and the taste.
Sour.
Unpleasant.
Not worth a second try.
The bird in the cage seemed to sense the direction of his thoughts.
It stared at him with open suspicion and scrambled from one end of the cage to the other without pause.
“Settle down,” McGonagall murmured, watching it.
She had meant to buy him an owl.
The mental image of Cedric already reaching for its feathers had been enough to change her mind.
“Get along from now on,” she said, face stern.
“And do not eat it.
Do you understand?”
“Of course, Professor.
This is a gift from you.
No matter how hungry I get, I wouldn’t go that far.” Cedric smiled.
The answer sounded respectable.
McGonagall nodded—then the phrasing caught up with her.
Did that mean if someone else had given it to him, the bird would already be in a pot?
Had he still not abandoned the idea of eating owls?
A headache began to form behind her eyes.
She wanted to seize the boy and force the concept into his head that owls were companions, not ingredients.
But several more Muggle households still waited, and time was short.
There would be months at Hogwarts.
She could correct the mindset later.
She had no idea what kind of changes the child in front of her was about to bring to the castle.
…
After settling him into a room at the Leaky Cauldron, McGonagall bought him a meal and prepared to leave.
Before going she repeated the important points with deliberate emphasis.
How to enter and exit Diagon Alley.
Stay out of Knockturn Alley.
Do not practice offensive magic with that wand—breaking things meant paying for them.
The last warning was heavy enough that Cedric briefly considered abandoning any early spell practice altogether.
And the most important instruction of all, delivered with iron clarity:
Do.
Not.
Eat.
Owls.
The crow in the cage tilted its head as if waiting for an additional clause that never came.
Once McGonagall was gone, Cedric sat at the small table and poked a finger through the bars.
“Professor McGonagall plays favorites,” he said with a grin.
“She specifically banned owls but never mentioned you.
Does that mean she trusts me?”
The crow swatted his hand away with a wing and gave a low, irritated caw.
“Fine, I’ll stop.
Relax.
I don’t plan on eating you.” He unlatched the door.
“Let’s give you a name.
Once you have one, you’re off the menu.
Deal?”
The bird hesitated, peered at him, rolled its eyes once, and hopped out.
Cedric ignored the cautious approach.
He studied the dark sheen of the feathers in the light and smiled.
“Noir.
That’ll do.”
“Caw.”
“Go sit over there.
Don’t make a mess.
Otherwise do whatever you want.”
He waved it off.
Noir did not take offense.
After a moment it settled on his shoulder instead, watching with clear curiosity.
Cedric had already checked it with Eye of Insight.
Hunting Level 5—the same as a proper mail owl.
Ordinary crows did not sit at that rank.
In the magical world the difference mattered.
Ravenclaw House had been named for a reason.
Ravens were clever by reputation, and the founders themselves had acknowledged it.
Understanding human speech was well within reach for a bird like this.
Noir proved the point by staying put and observing.
Cedric pulled the new cauldron onto the table and tapped the side.
Beginner models were pewter—a tin alloy that, in the Muggle world, often carried lead when used for soldering.
Gold cauldrons existed, corrosion-proof and expensive, but they were reserved for potion masters.
Looking cute had not changed the shopkeeper’s mind.
“Lead,” he muttered.
“For potions it might not matter—half the ingredients are already toxic.
For cooking?
Absolutely not.”
He set the cauldron aside.
“Might as well check the system while I’m at it.”
The interface opened.
Most of the panel looked familiar.
One new node had appeared on the skill tree—something that had not been there before.
General Enhancement — Basic Magic Control