Inspired from a prompt on the ROTG kink meme.

I've mulling over doing this for a while and decided to try my hand at it. I apologize in advanced if it's a little OOC ^^;;

Kudos to my moirail for coming up with the title :D

Notice: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Misuse of Magic, Pitch as the crazy uncle

Disclaimer: I do not own the following franchises or their characters. They rightfully belong to J.K. Rowling and William Joyce.

There is an owl in his Warren.

There is an owl holding an envelope in its beak in his Warren.

There is an owl holding an envelope that has his son's name scrawled across the parchment in its beak in his Warren.

Bunnymund glares at the bird perched atop an egg sentinel.

How the hell did it even get in? The Warren is guarded against intruders and invitation only. Is this someone's idea of a joke? It cannot be from Jack; his mate comes and goes as he pleases. It is not Tooth's doing; she dislikes owls and she would send Baby Tooth if she needed something. He rules out North and Sandy because both Guardians have better ways at contacting him and his son. As for Pitch…well, the Boogeyman knows better.

Bunnymund momentarily pushes those thoughts aside, wanting to deal with the unwanted pest first. Stepping forward, he angrily waves a paw at the bird.

"Go on! Shoo, ya blighter!" he yells.

The feathery creature tilts its head in reply, its big eyes reflecting amusement at the Pooka.

"Why ya—go away before I turn ya into a pillow!"

"Da, who are you yelling at this early?" a young voice chimes in.

Bunnymund turns to find his ten-year-old son exiting their burrow. His half-lidded eyes blink away the remnants of Sandy's dream-sand. The snowflake-printed pajamas the boy wears are slightly rumpled. Strands of black hair messily curl every which way.

"Nothin', kit, why don't ya go get washed up for breakfast?"

"Is that an owl?" his son asks, now fully awake.

The Pooka grits his teeth. "Yes and it is leaving," he hisses at the bird.

The owl screeches in retaliation and takes flight. It soars over Bunnymund's head—a little too close if ya ask me!—and deposits its papery cargo in the boy's hands. Before the Guardian can make a grab at the devil-creature, the owl quickly flies away and out of sight.

"That was cool!" the ten-year-old exclaims.

Bunnymund scoffs and hops over to his son's side. He quickly takes the envelope, giving it a thorough look-over. Aside from his son's name—where the hell did 'Potter' come from?—it also has the precise location of the Warren and their burrow written on it. Already suspicious, the Pooka's instincts do not go haywire until he turns the parchment over and catches sight of a waxy seal stamped on the back. Recognizing the emblem, his long ears and whiskers droop.

"Da, what's wrong? What's it say?" his son worriedly asks, noticing a change in his father's mood.

Releasing a shuddering breath, Bunnymund pats the boy's head. "Go get dressed, kit, and pack a bag. We're goin' to Uncle North's for a while."