Harry’s world fell apart for the second time that month during Saturday morning breakfast. A different owl heralded Harry’s personal apocalypse this time: an unfamiliar, unremarkable barn owl. It dropped a letter on Tom’s plate and flew off without a care. Harry barely noticed it, truth be told. He was hungry and Tom got a lot of mail. He only started to pay attention when Tom opened the letter – was that a muggle envelope it came in? – and grew more and more manically gleeful as he read.