Some day, this will be a "Last.fm/NetFlix/Amazon for web fiction" (both original and fanfiction) where you can search across many different hosting sites or rate what you've read and get recommendations. However, life keeps throwing more urgent projects my way, so I don't know when it'll be ready.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8551180/1/"The question: How do post owls know their destinations?" Harry spoke suddenly, and the quill started scribbling on the parchment. "Hypothesis: Their inherent magic allows their instincts to guide them. Test subject number one, designation Hedwig, has proven to be most helpful in proving this hypothesis."
In the corner of the room stood a bird cage, in which sat an owl that had its feathers ruffled, hooting indignantly at Harry, who ignored her.
"The time is..." Harry checked his watch, starting to pace around the room. "...three minutes past one o'clock. Given the owl's top speed and the distance to my friend and colleague Hermione Granger's house, it should take three hours and thirty-two minutes to fly there, another two to wait for the response, and another three hours and thirty-two minutes to fly back. All together, it amounts to seven hours and six minutes, exactly the time it took for Hedwig, which means she wasn't confused for even a second as to the direction she needed to fly..."
"BOY, STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF UP THERE!" came the voice of Uncle Vernon, making Harry stop his pacing.
"Side-note, a change of location would be prudent. Perhaps Hermione has room in her house?"
"AND I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYMORE EXPLOSIONS UP THERE!"
"Side-note to the side-note, develop a sedative for Uncle Vernon... whale dosage..."
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