Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Round 4
Team: Kenmare Kestrels
Position: Beater 2
Prompt: Write from an owl's point of view.
Optional Prompts: (word) Frigid, (word) Obliterate, (word) Soul
BETA: Queen Bookworm the First
Word Count: 1173
Note: As this is told from the perspective of Hedwig, there are lots of words that we know that she wouldn't understand. For example, she calls Harry her 'letter-writer-friend,' etc. These mashed-up words are intentional! Thanks for understanding :)
Hedwig loved flying.
It was a welcome change from the cage that her letter-writer-friend kept her in, passing her scraps of food with apologetic smiles. She would nip his fingers with her sharp beak to let him know who was the boss, but she knew that she loved her letter-writer-friend dearly, even if she didn't show it.
Gusts of wind billowed beneath her wings, ruffling her feathers and pushing her further towards the cosmos, the endless sea of black-ink-night and dappled stars. Her wingtips brushed the misty clouds, cutting a clean line through the vapor. She had to resist the urge to release a cry of pleasure. It was here where she ruled—the sky was her domain, a kingdom that stretched to the horizon.
But tonight was different. Her letter-writer-friend had come with her to fly, instead of staying in his room while she hunted. Perhaps he would appreciate a morsel of mouse meat.
Hedwig considered the idea for a moment before abandoning it; she was too anxious to fly, to feel the burn in her wings as she climbed higher into the abyss.
Even though the horizon-black-sky was dark as midnight, the ground beneath Hedwig was woven with light like the web of a spider. Tendrils of star-light stretched across the land. The cluttered sounds of the city were reduced to a dim hum, dwarfed by the billowing winds.
Hedwig twisted her frame and pivoted to see a lumbering shadow approaching her, a single beam of light fastened to its head. Behind the shining light she saw the hulking figure of her letter-writer-friend's companion, the wild man with bushy and tousled hair.
Sitting beside him, causing Hedwig's heart to leap with joy, was her letter-writer-friend. She called out a low hoot of greeting, but the sound was lost in the wind and the roar of the oncoming floating machine.
Soon she circled the mass of machinery, all shiny-metal and foul exhaust. Her letter-writer-friend didn't even notice her; instead, he kept peering over his shoulder as if to see if something was following them.
Hedwig remembered the tension she had seen before she had been set free from the cramped bars of her cage, but the prospect of flying again had been on her mind. The expression on her letter-writer-friend's face was unmistakably frightened, from the way his jaw set firmly to the fear visible in his eyes. Yes, something important was about to happen, but she didn't know what.
Angling her wings, Hedwig swooped away from the flying machine and glanced back like her letter-writer-friend was doing. Vague figures swirled amongst the clouds, dappled shadows in the moonlight. The sight of them unnerved her, even though she assumed they were more friends. The clouds stacked and shifted like great piles of pillows, rising higher and higher above Hedwig's head that she felt small compared to their sheer mass. She longed to reach their lofty heights, to finally feet indomitable as she soared with the starlight illuminating her path. Oh, if only she could fly forever!
A cry of alarm echoed from the clouds, magnified in Hedwig's ears and sending a shock of fear through her veins. No, she was never afraid when she was flying. Here she was queen...
"Argh! They're here!"
A brilliant streak of red shattered the balmy peace of her kingdom, rocketing through the air like a stroke of blood-red paint-colors. A sound followed later, an explosion that shook Hedwig to her core. She had only heard sounds like those before, sounds that came out of her letter-writer-friend's magic-stick. These were sounds of doom and despair, trumpeting the arrival of sorrow.
The screams came later, shrieks of terror and pain that sent spikes of anguish into Hedwig's heart. Resolutely, she flapped her wings and dove towards one of the shadowed figures, which emerged from the clouds as a man with a mask on a broom. The mask curled in a twisted-warped-smile that chilled Hedwig to the bone. With a hoot of challenge, she planned her course for the man. The wind tapered under her wings and she jolted to a halt in front of him.
"Blasted owl!" the man spat, raising a hand from his broom to swipe at Hedwig, but his aim was clumsy and she darted out of his reach. With an angry dog-like growl he raised his magic-stick, pointing it at her.
A tongue of fire erupted from the tip and Hedwig swiveled, unable to avoid the fire completely as it singed the end of her wingtip. The flame was painful, but not excruciatingly so, allowing Hedwig to torment the man a bit longer before rising again to the safety of the clouds.
When she looked down, a battle raged beneath her. Jets of red and green magic-spells illuminated the cosmos like a fireworks display. The light was so bright and so near that Hedwig was worried she would be blinded — every color was more vibrant than a thousand stars. The buzz of the wind was unable to muffle the screams, though, and Hedwig shivered despite the warmth of the night. Her letter-writer-friend was in danger; how could she simply stand by and watch?
As Hedwig dove down to again reunite with the floating machine an emotion solidified within her. Warmth bloomed across her breast and spread to the very tips of her wings, filling her with a fierce fire. She loved her letter-writer-friend; they had a bond forged through their friendship, and she would protect him at all costs.
The wild man and her letter-writer-friend burst into view as she tunneled through the vapor of a cloud, pursued by yet another man. His cloak was swept back in the wind, making him look like an extraordinarily large chitter-chatter-bat. He too held a magic-stick and was aiming it at her letter-writer-friend, lips pulled back in a vile sneer.
Hedwig's heart fluttered and she aimed her beak for the floating machine, a flash of white against the ink-black sky, no, the blood-red sky.
The jet of green came faster than Hedwig could anticipate, a caress against her chest as frigid as death. The fire within her was extinguished, proud body falling limp and wings drooping as she plummeted to the ground. The rush of wind seemed to slow, her pounding heartbeat drumming to a halt as she fell. The world spiraled in dizzying lethargy. In the corner of her eye she saw the form of her letter-writer-friend. A scream of agony shattered her eardrums, shattered her soul. In one moment Hedwig was obliterated.
And she was falling, falling, slowly and then for eternity in the blackened cosmos, blackened by the stench of death and blood.
No.
No, she wasn't falling. She was flying, wings sweeping about her sides as she reached higher than the tips of the clouds, higher than she had ever dared before. She was beyond the reach of gravity, beyond the reach even of her letter-writer-friend.
And with a cry of joy Hedwig soared into the stars, knowing that she was finally home.