Chapter One

Hedwig's Return

In the sky above Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey, clouds were growing darker and the wind was picking up. Harry Potter sat cross-legged on the floor against his bed, chin in his hand, staring glumly out of the window. Never had the weather more perfectly suited his mood, he thought to himself. It was a bleak and miserable day, rain splattering against the glass, the wind whistling harshly through the cracks in the windowsill... perfect.

A small tap at the windowpane startled Harry. With some trepidation, he maneuvered himself over to the glass and peered out, brushing his unruly black hair out of his eyes. Beady eyes peered back at him. Harry jumped back in fright before letting out a sigh of relief, realising it was only his owl, Hedwig.

"Hedwig!" Harry scolded gently, opening the window and letting the sodden bird in. "Where've you been? I've been worried sick! Even Uncle Vernon asked why you hadn't been making a racket!"

Hedwig gave Harry an inquiring look as she shook her wet feathers on Harry's bed. She dropped the letters she was carrying and looked expectantly at her cage. Harry opened the cage door and let her in. Hedwig was soon resting, eyes closed, pretending not to listen.

Harry locked his window and resumed staring out at the rain. He noticed the clouds beginning to part over the next suburb and blue sky peeking through. He sighed; there was always some light to shine through on his storms.

Disgruntled, he flopped down against the wall and gazed around his room. Always the same bare existence. His packed trunk, a meal tray, a bottle of water, Hedwig's cage and his bed with the same old linen that his cousin Dudley had outgrown a good ten years previously. Harry crossed his arms and again wished bitterly to himself that he didn't live here, that the school term had started and that he could be at Hogwarts with the people who cared about him.

Not, Harry thought bitterly, that those people who cared about him seemed to miss him during summer break. He'd read the letters they sent; always on about things they'd been up to and never asking about him and how he felt, spending the holidays in a bedroom with only an owl for company. Hedwig wasn't even there half the time.

Harry looked down at the floor, remembering suddenly that Hedwig had been carrying mail. Sure enough, there were two letters on the floor; a bit wet and rumpled but that hardly mattered, it was news from the outside! One from Hermione, and another from the Burrow. Ron, he supposed. He opened Hermione's first.

"Dear Harry," Harry read aloud to Hedwig.

"'Hope you're having a brilliant summer, even though I know you're stuck with the Dursleys, rotten luck.'

"Ha! If only she knew how rotten," Harry said sourly to himself.

"'I'm looking forward to the school term going back on the first of September, and have already begun studying for it. I can hardly wait to see what surprises we get in Arithmancy this year!'

"She's crazy, I can't be bothered reading all that," Harry said, tossing the letter on the floor.

Hedwig opened one eye and eyed him beadily.

Harry shrugged despondently. He didn't feel like explaining himself to a bird. He tore open the letter from Ron.

"'Dear Harry. Hi! Hope you're having a decent enough summer with your family. I've been having a fairly good one here at our place, though it'd be better if you were here with us, as Mum keeps pointing out.'

"Hmmm, Ron must've been practising his handwriting, this is really neat," Harry said, surprised.

Harry continued reading.

'George and Fred have been taking me out flying when Mum hasn't been looking, which has turned out to be really excellent. I don't know how you're so good at flying after the Snitch; I tried to chase a leaf blowing in the wind and fell off the broom and broke my wrist. Mum was really annoyed with Fred and George, and has confined me to the house. She says that they're a really bad influence on me, and ought to be ashamed of themselves. Fred told Mum that if they started feeling ashamed of all the bad things they'd done to me, they'd probably commit themselves to St. Mungo's for psychiatric treatment. Mum is currently not speaking to either Fred or George.'

Harry laughed out loud, surprising both himself and Hedwig.

"I can just imagine it, Hedwig!" Harry told the bird. "Oh, I wish I was at The Burrow with Ron."

Hedwig ruffled her feathers disdainfully.

"I know; I'm stuck here." Harry rolled his eyes. He looked back down at the letter and continued to read.

Minutes later, Harry gasped in surprise and dropped the letter. He stared at it in shock. Hedwig hooted softly. Harry put a finger to his lips automatically. He picked up the letter and reread the last paragraph. He replaced the letter in the envelope, rocking on his heels. He got up decisively and rustled through his trunk. He found what he was looking for and set to work.

Hedwig watched Harry dip his quill in his inkpot and scratch at a piece of parchment. He wrote fervently, his face scrunched in thought, and his leg at an odd angle on the floor behind him. Harry stayed that way, writing for what seemed to Hedwig to be a very long time; much longer than the times he usually spent writing to Ron.

Finally, Harry sealed his letter. He retrieved his wand from his trunk and tapped the letter with it, whispering words Hedwig didn't catch. Harry looked over at Hedwig.

"Ready for another trip, old girl?" He asked softly.

Hedwig kept her eyes tightly shut.

Harry rapped on the cage sharply. "Hedwig!"

Hedwig opened one eye sleepily.

"Don't play that old game with me, Hedwig," Harry said, grinning at her. "I really need you to take this letter to The Burrow."

Hedwig stretched her wings.

"Please," Harry added as an afterthought.

Hedwig hopped out of her cage and waited patiently while Harry tied the letter to her leg.

"Make sure it gets to Ginny," he said.

Hedwig hooted.

"Shhh!" Harry said. "And hurry back, I'm completely bored around here without you. Just give it to whoever's in the kitchen."

Hedwig blinked at Harry, and hopped over to the window. Harry unlocked it, and let the bird out. Hedwig flapped her wings and flew off.

"HARRY POTTER!" came a thunderous roar from behind Harry's locked door. "IF YOU CAN'T SHUT THAT RUDDY BIRD UP--"

"Shhh!" Harry could hear Aunt Petunia admonishing her husband. "The neighbours will hear!"

The couple moved off down the corridor, Uncle Vernon muttering expletives and Aunt Petunia repeating, "Really, Vernon!" at various intervals.

Harry sighed, and looked out the window at Hedwig's far-off form flying over rooftops. Flopping back onto his bed, Harry traced patterns in the air and dreamt about flying on his Nimbus over those same rooftops to deliver a letter to The Burrow. He shook his head, and readied himself for bed.

Flipping the switch to turn off his light, Harry curled up in his bed and tried to clear his mind so he could sleep. There wasn't any use waiting up for Hedwig; she'd hang around at The Burrow as long as possible. She always had room to do as she pleased there. Envious, Harry drifted off to sleep.