Of Owls and Statues

Harry Potter paced back and forth across his bedroom floor, glancing out the window into the night every time he passed by it.

"Where is she?" he thought anxiously. Hedwig, his pet snowy owl, had been

missing for six days. He had sent her out to deliver a letter to one of his best friends, Hermione Granger, to thank her for the birthday present she'd given him. And even though the girl only lived about an hour away from Harry's home, Hedwig had been gone for almost a week.

"She's disappeared for a day or two before," Harry said to the empty room, "but never for this long."

He went over a few possible explanations for the vanishing owl: Hedwig had decided to spend a few days with Hermione. The two had always had a close bond. Or maybe Hedwig as hanging out with a few of her owl friends. Harry carefully considered the last one, but quickly dismissed it. Hedwig was more of a loner.

As Harry pondered over his missing pet, he didn't notice the two figures creeping into his bedroom. Since Harry was currently staring out the window, his back to the door, the shadowy figures were able to successfully pass unnoticed, until the shorter of the two shut the door. Then a loud creak emitted from the hinge.

Harry whirled around and saw the mysterious men. "What on earth is going on?!" he screamed,

The taller started to yell at the other. "Wormtail! Didn't I tell you to bring some WD-40?! The Dursley household has particularly squeaky hinges. You are failure as a henchman!"

The one called Wormtail cowered and muttered apologies, to the other taller, black-robed man, whom he referred to as "my lord".

"Enough of this tom-foolery!" shouted the "lord". His red snake-like eyes blazed. "Bring out the owl!"

Wormtail frantically searched through the bundle he carried. Suddenly, the top of a white head poked out. The two black beady eyes appeared, staring intently.

"Hedwig!" cried Harry in surprise. "Why to YOU have her?" he yelled at the men. "For that matter, who are you?"

"Oh Harry, don't you know? I thought your little scar warned you whenever I was near," drawled the tall figure.

As soon as the man said that, Harry's lightning-shaped scar began to burn. Harry clasped his hand to his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

"Oh, duh! Cavorting with a guy named Wormtail should have been a dead give-away! Voldemort, just what do you think you are doing with my owl?"

"Your little owl is the key to bringing your little reign as `the boy who lived' to an end. I will destroy her, unless you agree to join my Death Eaters."

Harry suddenly remembered something very important. Albus Dumbledore had mentioned one of the protections that guarded Harry. If Voldemort were to set foot on the Dursley property and touch Harry, Voldemort would turn to stone. Inspired, Harry decided to trick his archenemy into touching him.

"All right," said Harry. "It's a deal." He held his hand out to shake his adversary's. Apparently, the evil wizard didn't know or remember this spell because he extended his own pale hand to meet Harry's. As soon as the hands made contact, Voldemort turned into a big, ugly statue.

Wormtail, terrified at seeing his master in such a state, immediately dropped Hedwig and Disapparated. Hedwig took flight and landed on Harry's outstretched arm.

"It's good to have you back, old girl," he said as he ruffled her feathers. "Now, what should we do about him?" Harry indicated the statue.

The owl flew over the figure and relived herself on its head. Just then the Dursley family barged in, rubbing sleep from their eyes.

"What the heck is going on in here?" bellowed Uncle Vernon, his face turning purple. Aunt Petunia blanched at the sight of the stone man and hid her bony body behind Vernon's bulky one. Dudley shrieked and waddled away as fast as he could.

"Oh, nothing," Harry said nonchalantly. "Just another attempt to kidnap and destroy me." He glanced at Voldermort's frozen form and added, "An especially pathetic attempt."

"Whatever. Just clean this mess up and get that thing outta here. And tell whoever it is to try harder to get you next time, and do to it at a more decent hour!" The Dursleys trudged back up to bed, leaving Harry blissfully alone.

Harry cleaned up, all right. He pushed old Moldywart out the window and then drifted off to dreamland.

A/N: Hee hee. I originally wrote this for English class, and decided to post it here. Ya like? Flame if you must, but gently, if you please.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to the genius of J.K. Rowling. WD-40 belongs to the WD-40 maker-peoples. The plot is mine.