Prologue
He awoke to the sound of birds chirping. For a while, he simply laid there and pretended he was boneless. This feeling was simply wonderful. No more tests, no more school, no more Dementors. His thoughts drifted over the last two days. He had a Godfather! Someone who wanted him, who wanted to take care of him. He smiled a little at that thought. Even thoughts of Pettigrew could not put a dent in his good mood right now.
Eventually, the beam of sunlight shifted until it was shining right into his eyes. Shifting in the bed didn't help. With a slight sigh at the loss of that wonderful moment, he squinted his eyes open. The dormitory was empty. Had he missed breakfast… again? Reaching out, he took his watch. It was just past nine, which meant that breakfast was still a possibility. Harry loved weekends.
He found Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall. His best friend was bent over his breakfast. Hermione, on the other hand, was reading a book.
"Morning you two," he said as he sat down on the bench and spun around to face them.
"Good morning, Harry," said Hermione brightly. She looked wide awake. Ron nodded and continued his attack on breakfast.
"What have you got there?" he asked as he scanned the table for something tasty. "It looks thicker than those law books we went through for Buckbeak," he added as he nicked one toast from Ron's stack.
"Hey! Do you mind?' Ron looked horrified by his loss.
"There's no more left, I'm sure you'll be fine until they're refilled," said Harry quickly, cutting Hermione off before she could speak. "Book?" He pointed and looked at her expectantly.
"Oh, this." She perked up. "It's about flying creatures. Professor Lupin gave it to me yesterday, told me he didn't think he'd need it so soon, with him leaving and all."
"Anything interesting in there?"
"Oh yes! For example, there's this fascinating creature called the Minokawa, it lives in Asia and it's a huge dragon-bird hybrid and it's so big some people say it can swallow the sun and that's how eclipses happened and—"
"Whoa, slow down Hermione. I'm sure they're very interesting and all but… can we just have breakfast in peace?" asked Ron, rubbing his side where Hermione had accidentally elbowed him while gesticulating.
"You look like you want to swallow a sun yourself, Ron, maybe you should start taking notes," snickered Harry, pointing at the large bowl of glowing yellow pudding Ron had just dragged in front of him. Hermione looked torn between indignation at being interrupted and amusement at Harry's comment.
"See now, Ron, don't eat it all!" came a horrified voice from behind. "Sprout would be very cross with you if all her plants died because of you!" They sat down on either side of Harry, each putting an arm around his shoulder.
"Yeah," said the other twin, "maybe the Mandrakes would scream at him too!"
"Anyway, we wanted to ask if you'd come play some Quidditch with us, you know, the whole team together. It might be Oliver's last before he leaves."
"Yeah! Alright, I'm down. It'll be nice to play without Dementors. You don't think he'd try and make us do practice, do you? I mean, it is Oliver…"
"We're sure you'll manage," said right George. Left George gave him a thumbs up. "See you down at the pitch at ten!"
"Do you wanna come with, Ron?" asked Harry after the twins left. "I'm sure you can borrow one of the reserve brooms from the changing rooms and play," he added, knowing Hermione would probably prefer to read that new book anyway.
"Oh, you think they'll want a full game?"
"If we get enough people, it might be worth the shot. Might be Oliver's last if he doesn't go professional. But we can always play a four-on-four," replied Harry with a shrug.
"Yea, I'll go! Ten, they said?"
"Yup. Don't forget to wear your favourite orange shorts," he added just as Hermione was taking a sip from her juice.
"Hey! How'd you know about—" started Ron, only to stop at both Harry's surprised stare and Hermione's choking. "Well, um. You know." He gestured vaguely.
"Do tell, Ron," laughed Harry.
"Don't," added Hermione in a small squeak.
"Hey, Alicia, watch out!" Harry shouted just before the Bludger could connect. She turned and, instead of dodging, threw the Quaffle at the incoming Bludger with all her might, deflecting it back at Fred. Unfortunately, she didn't catch the Quaffle as it bounced back and hit her squarely in the chest.
"I'm the one on your team!" Fred yelled as he smacked the Bludger away.
"He's lying!" came the distant shout from George.
"I don't care! You're both terrible!" yelled Alicia.
They really should not have put them on the opposite teams, mused Harry as he pulled from the dive, Quaffle in hand. Swerving to the right to avoid Katie, he passed it back to a winded-looking Alicia.
"You all right?" He asked.
"Yeah, catch," came the reply as she passed the Quaffle back to him to avoid Angelina's attempted steal. "Do us a favour and score at least once, will you?" she yelled after him as he sped off towards the goal posts.
Tucking the Quaffle underneath his left arm, he turned back to stick his tongue out at Alicia. However, when he looked ahead, he had to jerk his broom violently to the side to avoid Ron. Unfortunately, that put him right in front of the hoops. Rather than dropping the Quaffle, he jerked his Firebolt handle again and streaked right through the goal.
"Ten points for team Wood!"
"And twenty for also scoring a Harry!" shouted Angelina. "You know that's illegal, right?"
"Prove it," Harry replied grinning as he threw the Quaffle back at Alicia. Katie caught it and he saw Angelina smirk before she streaked off. Damn. Shooting just wasn't his thing.
Harry was just about to take off after her when she saw Katie suddenly stop and drop the ball. Then she screamed for help, before going into a steep dive.
Harry was off in an instant, overtaking Angelina, Fred and George, and even Oliver in an attempt to catch Katie. Did she lose control of her broom? He pushed his Firebolt faster. She didn't look like she was falling, right? He really, really hoped she wasn't falling. He didn't think he'd catch up in time.
"Katie!" he heard from above as he flattened himself against the broom handle.
She jerked her broom up to pull out of the dive and Harry saw her hands covered in blood. Lots of it. What could have happened? Harry was panicking; driving himself down with such speed he barely avoided crashing into the ground.
He reached her just as she was rummaging in her pockets. "What is it Katie?" He asked, his ears ringing from the sudden drop of pressure. He swallowed a few times, stumbling to a halt and craning his neck to see what was wrong.
"Don't stand there, hold her." She pushed something into his arms.
His knees suddenly became very unstable as he realised where the blood came. He was holding Hedwig, a very deep, ugly-looking gash bleeding across her side.
"Hold her steady Harry, this will sting," he heard distantly as Katie uncorked a bottle. No, no, no. Not Hedwig. What happened? Was she breathing? How do you treat an owl? What was Katie even doing? Harry's felt as though he was looking at himself from behind a pane of glass. Everything felt slightly muted. All he could feel was the soft feathers pressing against his arms. Even those felt incredibly heavy.
"Harry." Someone shook his shoulder. "Harry, mate, it stopped bleeding." It was Ron.
"She's alive, Harry, don't worry. Dittany closes the wound, she won't bleed out." That was Katie. "But we need to get her to the Hospital Wing, Dittany is not a permanent fix." Someone tried to take Hedwig away from him. That kicked his brain awake again.
"Don't, I can manage," he snapped, then shook his head. "Sorry," he muttered to Ron.
Ron gave a small smile. "It's fine, Harry."
He took Harry's shoulder and pushed him towards the castle. "Katie's right, though. We need to get Hedwig to the Hospital Wing. I'm not sure Hagrid could fix…" He pointed at Hedwig's wound, "this."
Harry nodded. Still a little dazed, he started towards the castle, Ron and Katie with him. By the time they reached the gates, he felt a little more grounded. He could still feel Hedwig's heart beating softly. That was good. It meant she wasn't as dead as she looked. He clung to that thought as the three of them climbed the steps.
"Dear Merlin, what happened to you three," gasped Madam Pomphrey the second they pushed the Hospital Wing doors open. She dropped the blanket she was folding and hurried towards them, wand already drawn.
"It's better than it looks," said Katie. "It's… It's Harry's owl. Flew into each other on the Quidditch pitch. She was already… already bleeding."
Madam Pomphrey simply nodded, directing Harry towards the nearest bed and carefully prying his fingers from around Hedwig's body.
"Don't you worry now, Harry. The owl looks stable. Let it go so I can deal with the wound," she spoke calmly when he wouldn't let go. She frowned then turned to Katie. "Did you treat her somehow? There's way too much blood for how the wound looks."
"Dittany. I had a small bottle in my Quidditch robes just in case…"
"Good thinking," replied the nurse. "Might have saved the owl right there."
Harry shot Katie a look of gratitude. He didn't want to guess what would've happened if Katie didn't have this Dittany thing with her. Katie shot him back a nervous smile, before turning to leave.
"Miss Bell?" spoke the nurse. "Miss Bell, can you please fetch the Headmaster?"
"Um, the— the Headmaster?"
"Yes, Miss Bell, the Headmaster. Preferably quickly. He may want to see this."
"Oh. Yes. Ye— Okay!" Katie nodded, turned and ran from the Infirmary.
Harry opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but was stopped by Madam Pomphrey's 'later.'
The doors of the Hospital Wing opened and Albus Dumbledore came striding in; unbelievably briskly for a wizard his age. "You called, Poppy?" he asked calmly.
"Yes, Albus. Mr Potter's owl has been injured. However, I am at a loss on how to proceed. You may wish to look at her before we decide," spoke the matron, gesturing towards the bed with Hedwig.
With a curious expression on his face, Albus Dumbledore strode forward, a wand appearing in his hand so fast Harry might have missed it had he blinked. The old wizard started muttering under his breath, weaving the knobbly grey wand in small, graceful flicks.
"Most curious," he proclaimed after a while, his eyebrows rising. After a further few moments, he turned to Madam Pomphrey. "You are, as always, correct. This is a most unusual case. I believe I shall have to ask Minerva, just to be sure. How urgent is her condition?"
"She's stable."
Dumbledore nodded, then flourished his wand and a silver bird shot out its end. Harry blinked. That could only have been a Patronus, but why…
"The Patronus can be used to send messages, Harry," Dumbledore told him with a small smile. Harry was just about to ask how he knew when the old wizard chuckled. "I guessed, Harry." Ah. That's how.
"Sir?" Harry began, "may I ask what's so curious?"
"Most certainly, Harry. You see, your owl, or rather—" But at that moment the doors banged open once again, and Minerva McGonagall came striding in.
"I hope you have a good reason to summon me here, Albus. You know the tests will not grade themselves!" she snapped irately.
"Apologies, Minerva," replied Dumbledore, seemingly unperturbed. "As I was just about to explain to young Harry here, we have a bit of a dilemma on our hands." he held up a hand just as Professor McGonagall opened her mouth. "You see, Harry's owl here has been injured," he tried to continue.
"And pray tell, what does this have to do with me, Albus?"
"I am getting there, Minerva," replied Albus. "You see, Harry's owl is not an owl."
Harry thought he misheard Dumbledore. Not an owl? But…
"I am afraid Hedwig here is an Animagus, and both Poppy and I are at a loss in how to heal her safely," he finished calmly.