J. K. Rowling owns the characters, I own the situation, and Samantha Starrin (there's probably one somewhere) owns her name. Thank you for letting me borrow it, Samantha.
Harry Potter was ecstatic. He had just received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that stated that he was going to be allowed to be a prefect in his sixth year at school. He had trouble containing his joy at this joyous announcement. He decided to keep it a secret because he knew that if his aunt and uncle knew that he was going to have some sort of enjoyment at school, it wasn't likely that he'd be allowed to return. He thought of the look on Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody's face if he found out that his relatives weren't going to allow him to return. Hehe, he thought, Dudley would find out what it's like to be a ferret.
As he sat down to a dinner of mince pie, Harry thought of why Ron was unseated from his Prefect position. There could only be one male Prefect from each house and in the previous year that was Ron. Deciding to ask his friend this in his next owl to him, Harry ate, listening to the constant droning of the big-screen TV in the kitchen.
Harry trudged up to his bedroom and looked to see if Hedwig had returned from her hunting. Guess not, he thought, walking over to his desk. He took half a step before doubling back, looking at his bed. A beautiful woman was sitting on it. She was clad in a white T-shirt (which ended slightly above her navel) and a pair of jeans that had fit Dudley when he was five. This woman's platinum blond hair was slightly ruffled and had a slightly unwashed look to it. Her amber eyes were slightly entrancing. "Um…not to be rude or anything, but…who the devil are you?" asked Harry.
"Samantha Starrin," responded the woman.
"Doesn't ring a bell. Tell me what you're doing here or I'll summon the entire Order to this house."
"Ah, they're right, you are smart," she responded. "I'm an Animagus, Harry. Dumbledore asked me to watch over you while you were at the Dursley's. I was in your father's year at Hogwarts, but I'm a Ravenclaw. I was also the only person in our year that could legally become an animal."
Harry was taken aback. "You're an animagus?" he asked. "What's your form?"
"A charming and beautiful snowy owl," Samantha replied.
Realization dawned on Harry. "H…Hedwig?"
"And God said 'Let there be light!' Yes, Harry, I'm Hedwig. Sorry for the loss of your owl," she said. "Dumbledore told me to watch over you until your sixteenth birthday. At that point, you were supposed to go to Hogwarts to receive further instructions."
Harry sat at his desk. "How do I know you're not making this up?" he asked. "How do I know you're not one of Voldemort's cronies, coming to take me to him?"
At this, Samantha looked hurt, but not surprised. "They always told me you were smart," she said. "I guess you're just going to have to trust me, Harry."
"My trust is earned," Harry responded, his emerald eyes full of ice.
"I don't have time to earn it, Harry. All you have to go on is my word."
Harry considered the options. The likelihood that one of Voldemort's minions found her way to Privet Drive was slim, but it was still possible. Alastor Moody's voice echoed in his head. "CONSTANT VIGILENCE!" it said. But for once, Harry didn't listen. "Alright," he said, "where are we going?"
"The Hog's Head," said Samantha. "Aberforth's the barkeep there, and we'll walk to Hogwarts from there."
Harry was about to start packing his trunk, when a thought came to him. "How am I supposed to get there?" he asked.
"I'm going to have to create a portkey," she said, picking up a nearby quill.
"Hey!" said Harry. "Don't think about using my quill as a portkey. Hermione gave me that for my birthday."
"Do you have a better idea?" she asked him.
Harry immediately went to his trunk. Digging down as deeply as he could, Harry extracted a pair of knobbly old socks. He unballed them, and pulled out a small glass top. It stood on end in his hand, but didn't spin or whistle. 'Well, there's some proof' thought Harry. "Here," he said, throwing the socks to Samantha. "Don't worry, they're clean."
Samantha pulled her wand from a pouch she had attached to her bicep by a leather band. Harry noticed its mahogany color and considerable length – it looked to be at least a foot long. "Portus," she whispered. The sock glowed for a moment, then stopped, and looked completely ordinary. "I set it to go off a minute from now, so you'd better hurry." Harry closed his trunk, and instinctively reached for Hedwig's cage. "You won't be needing that," said Samantha. Harry, realizing his mistake, brought his trunk nearer Samantha. When time was almost up, he grabbed the toe of the sock and waited.
He felt a familiar tug behind his navel, and Harry's feet were torn from the ground.
A/N Yes, I've put this story up before. Yes, it was flawed. Yes, I fixed it. Yes, I will update when I get three reviews. I promise, this time.