This was a particularly interesting topic, which surprisingly took a great deal of self-reflection. My first thought was "my Chihuahuas!" They are small enough to be easily transported on the school train, exceptionally loving and loyal, and they would act as particularly efficient burglar alarms if anyone tried to have a poke around my belongings. My Chihuahuas aren't of the magical variety, however, and I don't think the house-elves, despite their inspiring work ethic, would appreciate cleaning up after theirinevitable "accidents."

Next, my mind seemed to shout, "Now wait a moment! Why should 'creatures' have all the fun?" What of all the exciting, magical plants that we've encountered over the last five school-years? Surely these plants (some of which are powerfully dangerous, some of which are beautiful, and all of which are absolutely unique) would act as useful companions as well. Think of Neville's mimbulus Mimbletonia, which seems to bring him a great deal of joy and comfort. The stinksap alone would be worth it. And, as Neville admits at one point, there are quite a lot of other things it can do. Wouldn't it be a lot of fun to discover what those are? Actually, now I'm getting mental images about what some of those "things" might be and how they might affect my sleep patterns. There goes that bright idea...

I think I have to settle on the Augurey, or Irish Phoenix. According to the HP-Lexicon, the Augurey is a "thin and mournful-looking bird somewhat resembling a vulture." Don't let its appearance get you down. Like the thestral, it was badly misjudged for ages. For example,"Its distinctive cry was once thought to be a death omen, but it is now known that the Augurey's cry foretells rain." The Augurey flies only in heavy rain and makes its nest in brambles and thorns. I might be a sap, but I take great comfort in this. Despite its mournful appearance, I find this bird to be wonderfully optimistic, a great example for how we should keep our chins up and stay on taskwhen hardshipscome our way. Plus, when the owls are being buffeted this way and that in a storm, my mail would arrive precisely on schedule. (I of course would never tease the school owls about this, since I would obviously require their services during balmier weather.)

2/20/05