Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. None of it.

Summary: Set in PoA. Harry tells Hedwig to stay at the Burrow during Aunt Marge's visit. Where does she actually go?

Word Count: 1550-ish.

Genres: General, little bit of light humour.

A/N: After years of enforced PoA abstinence, I finally managed to get my hands on a copy of it. Since it's so good, it made my muse actually write something for once. Yay! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, particularly the characterisation aspect: good, bad, ugly... Even if it's just one word. Thanks muchly, and ~Enjoy!

Hedwig swooped through the night air, revelling in the free feeling that only gliding through her element could give her. Now alone and unburdened, she could go at the pace she wished to without worrying about delivering letters on time. Errol, the sickly owl serving a friend of her own human, was safe at his home, meaning she didn't have to look after him anymore. Her duties done, Hedwig could lose herself in what she loved most.

Unfortunately, whilst freedom certainly had its benefits, wizards' owls do not enjoy being dismissed, and as the euphoria of flying settled down it bothered her that she had been. Centuries ago, during a time of conflict, a particularly clever - and powerful - human had enchanted Hedwig's race in order to use them to deliver secret messages. The enchantment unexpectedly affected the offspring of these owls, and gradually people started using them to deliver even ordinary messages. Now they were the primary method of long-distance communication among wizards.

All this meant that owls had a sense of purpose, the need to do something worthwhile, and also fantastic directional sense. It varied between different specimens, of course - some hadn't been affected by the original enchantment, and had mated with those who had been, thus causing a mixture of useful and less useful owls. Hedwig was one of the smart ones, though she rarely thought about this herself.

In fact, despite the enchantment that made them more humanoid in their thought processes, it wasn't in the nature of owls to consider these matters for long. Not when flying was such bliss, and hunger and thirst so much more important. She would hunt after a nice rest here - although she could smell meat nearby, already prepared and perfectly edible...

She flew a little further, silently settling down a safe distance away from the man devouring a bacon sandwich, scoffing it down as if he had not eaten in days. Some instinct told her this was a wizard - no, a particular wizard. His scent gave him away: like a dog that had slept rough for many nights, but somehow cold and damaged; it was exactly what a passing owl had warned her of some time ago. He was dangerous, apparently, but Hedwig felt no real sense of danger from him. And he still had plenty of other sandwiches - goodness knows where they'd come from, but they smelled nice enough.

The man startled as she flew down to rest beside him, having not heard her whisper-quiet flight. They appraised each other, but a tense moment later knew what they needed to. It was safe. How could it not be, Hedwig thought, quickly eating the scraps of bacon he had placed in front of her, adjusting her stance on the crumbling wall to keep balanced, to allow one shaking hand to tenderly stroke her feathers. She recognised the look on his face as he watched her eat: her keeper had looked the same when he gave her half of every small morsel the people they lived with had at one point allowed him. They had locked her food away, so he gave her much of his own, even if that meant he went hungry. Never mind that this man had such dark eyes, full of torment; life had obviously been cruel to him, but he hadn't lost his kindness.

So of course it was safe for her to be near him. Obviously all the silly fear was misguided, yet another case of owls listening to humans too much. In some ways Hedwig counted herself lucky that she didn't fully understand human speech. It helped her keep her own perspective on things, in the way the owls at the big government building - ministry, was it? - didn't.

Speaking of the ministry, she hadn't been there in a while. Perhaps she would go tomorrow... at any rate, it was time to leave. Yes, this man may have welcomed the company, but owls would always be owls, concerned mainly with practicality and not sentimentality. Now, to find some more filling morsels.

Sirius Black, escaped convict, remained sitting on the wall for some time, watching Hedwig as she disappeared into the dark night. He felt inexplicably lonely now that she had gone, but he knew why she'd left - this one had her priorities straight. First, food, and then to business. Well, he'd had his food, but what was his business? He needed to get to Hogwarts, get to Hogwarts, but that's what they would be expecting of him, they knew he wanted to get there. It wasn't time to show his hand yet. At any rate, it was best not to remain in one place for too long, especially as a man; he'd only transformed back into one because he hated eating in dog form. Right now, his first priority was to hide while he could...

Smoothly he changed into a dog, bounding forward out of the street lights' view, no longer needing their light to see - no longer needing to see. Abruptly he remembered how painful and awkward Remus' transformations had been in comparison to Padfoot's, but his dog's mind did not let him dwell on it for long. A welcome respite.

---------

"No," said Hedwig again, ruffling her feathers with agitation, "what I mean is, he isn't dangerous."

The owl she was addressing blinked slowly. "Who isn't?" This seemed to annoy the unfamiliar lady owl, so he then thought very hard. At length he reached an answer he was happy with. "Oh! You mean Sirius Black?"

"Yes," answered Hedwig, hoping that it was. She'd never taken much notice of human names. Patient by nature, she'd persevered in telling others about the "dangerous" man's kindliness, but this owl was particularly slow. Not to mention his dialect was awful, worse than the usual Ministry owl fare. Che. Mixed owls. They weren't the brightest in the bunch. Perhaps she should bite him.

"...But how do you know?"

One more try, and she would give up. "Owl's instinct. He gave me a bacon sandwich, too."

"Oh. Why didn't you say?" Evidently this owl liked food, for he brightened up considerably. "What did you get?"

"Bacon," she said, and, their conversation having fulfilled its purpose, she left to nick some water from a nearby tray. Technically she shouldn't be here, but what's one more owl to the humans?

"I don't care if he's innocent or not," a tawny owl was saying to his lighter companion. Today, the few conversations in this group (for owls did not need to talk artificially as humans did) seemed to be focused on this Serious person, suiting Hedwig fine. "The point is, they're not doing all they can to catch him."

"They aren't?" said the lighter one, who did not seem very interested either way.

The tawny ignored this disinterest. "No. I mean, who do they know who can find people better than anyone? We can! And what do they need? To find someone. It's a simple matter, why can't they see it?"

"Elementary, really," the other murmured, stealing the tawny's owl treats when he wasn't looking.

Hedwig went up to them and took some treats herself. They eyed her aloofly, knowing she was an outsider. "It's another example of humans underestimating their beasts of burden," she said companionably. It was true, really - it would be simple enough to put a tracking device on an owl and tell it to find this Blake man. But no. Instead there'd been loads of faffing about, and not one human seemed to have thought of such a solution. And now, the postal owls were getting restless, unable to help their keepers out. The enchantment had given them a wish to do so, but it hadn't given them any magical powers or ability to speak the human languages - just understand them.

No matter, though. They had all they needed otherwise. To hunt, to fly, to deliver letters, and to live. That they could do.

The conversation - and her thoughts - halted here, for they were no longer necessary. Yet still she sat with them a while, occasionally dozing off to sleep, waking up to see owls flying in and out. Eventually, though, she felt the need to leave herself, craving flight once more. The two she had exchanged words with last let her leave with barely a look, now accustomed to her presence. Just as she hopped away to the window, however, the slow owl from earlier called out to her, "Don't forget to steer clear of bacon!"

Obviously some misunderstandings weren't limited to humans.

---------

Errol's house was full of laughter and chattering voices, the explosions and puffs of smoke from certain rooms just a normal thing for Hedwig by now. Her keeper had told her to stay here, and he would most likely appear soon enough, at which time she could be useful to him again. And if he didn't, she would know exactly where he was, and that was all she needed.

Some time later, she felt the urge to leave Errol's side, and found herself flying to some kind of inn in London, where her keeper would be staying. Turns out he wouldn't be at Errol's, but despite the distance she still arrived five minutes after he did. Now, finally, they were reunited.

"It's been a weird night, Hedwig," he yawned, sitting on the lumpy bed and absent-mindedly stroking her.

Hedwig blinked her amber eyes owlishly. What on earth was he talking about?

~Fin.