It's short. It's sort of cracky. It took weeks for this stupid website to let me load it. Please enjoy, and please review.
Pavarotti liked this new owner of his, he really did, but it was a little disappointing that Kurt Hummel was not a wizard. No matter how much organic food he fed Pavarotti or how often he would harmonize with Pav's singing, he was still a muggle, which meant that Pav would never get to fulfill his lifelong goal of becoming a messenger warbler. He would never get to soar the skies freely, passing through wind and rain and snow to bravely deliver messages of great importance.
Pav longed to fly again.
And then he met Hedwig.
She was a beautiful owl, snowy and confident and little sassy. Her owner was the great Harry Potter, which made her practically royalty in the bird world. Hedwig had braved perilous journeys to deliver Harry Potter's messages of freedom and revolution, which ultimately brought her into Pavarotti's life.
She was delivering a message to the Warblers known as Jeff and Nick, two wizards who had been sent to Dalton by their parents to keep them out of harm's way as Voldemort gained power, when a powerful snowstorm blew her from the skies, nearly killing the beautiful bird. Jeff and Nick found her just in time, and took her to their room to recover.
Kurt Hummel happened to bring Pav to school that day. Though he was not a boarding student, Kurt often had sleepovers with Blaine, and the thought of leaving behind his new companion was unbearable. Jeff and Nick invited the boys to their room for video games and food, letting Pav share Hedwig's cage as they goofed off.
Even in her state of injury and fatigue, Hedwig mesmerized Pavarotti. Her loyalty and dedication to Harry Potter's cause sent shivers down Pav's tiny little spine, and he stared into her wide, amber eyes and knew he was in love.
They spent the evening hooting and chirping, enchanted by the other's native accent and their stories of home. Hedwig recounted her tales of searching for the infamous Sirius Black and escaping the hold of Deatheaters and Ministry officials alike. Pav told of the frustrating tension between his owner and the human called Blaine, asking her advice to get them together. The night was over too quickly, and Pav was soon separated from his new love as Kurt bid the other farewell, leaving for home.
Whenever Pav could, he would chirp to the birds outside, asking for news of the War and of the great Hedwig. They could only ever give him small tidbits, things he already knew and didn't ease his worry. Hedwig was a brilliant flier, but she was getting on in years; each trip threatened to be her last.
The next time Kurt slept over at Blaine's, Pav chirped continuously at Jeff and Nick, trying to convey his desperate plea to the two wizards. Jeff, the more sensitive of the two, seemed to understand, if only a little, and whispered, "Harry Potter has gone into hiding. The Dark Lord has taken over the Ministry. They're dying by the dozens over there." His voice hitched a little, and Nick rubbed his shoulder, taking over the news report as his friend worked to hide his tears from the muggles in the room.
"Mum wrote and said that Mad-Eye Moody died getting Harry to safety. That's a low blow, he's one of the best." A pause, then: "But you want to know about Hedwig, don't you?"
Pav chirped, moving his feet impatiently. Nick looked at Jeff, who had composed himself, and said, "She's dead, Pav. I'm really sorry."
Jeff nodded. "I know you two became friends. She died saving Harry's life. She's a hero."
Pav fell into a spiraling depression, fast. It seemed like no time at all before he was back home with Kurt, barely listening as the boy rambled on about Blaine. The one bird he had ever loved was gone, blown from the skies by a dark wizard trying to kill the Boy-Who-Lived. It was a hero's death, yes, but it was still a death.
Pav cried that night, refusing his food and water. He felt sick and sad and wanted nothing more to fly away from this place and see his beloved Hedwig again. But that wouldn't happen now.
Days went by, and Pavarotti did his best to appear normal, for Kurt's sake. But he was dying, and he was glad. His heart was gone, ripped from his tiny little chest – he knew he wouldn't survive much longer.
The day he died was beautiful. The sun was pouring through Kurt's window like liquid gold, and the happy boy was humming some song as he moisturized his face. Pav chirped along, feeling the end coming, ready to embrace the darkness.
And then he was flying, through a white sky towards a bright light, singing clearly and gratefully. A white beauty swooped down next to him, and Pavarotti cried to see Hedwig there, flying with him as they began their next great journey together.
