Chapter 9: In Which Hedwig is Consumed
As Harry and Haggis Plutarch locked lips in a disturbing display of hormones gone mad, Hedwig let out a feeble, "Whoooo..." from the floor. There were so many things she had not yet achieved in her pathetic bird life! Hedwig had never raised a nest of owlets, she had never carried off a baby ram, and she had never raked out anybody's eyeballs (not that she hadn't tried on that damnéd Potter boy). All in all, her life had been something of a pitiful waste.
Hedwig let out a sigh as her oxygen-starved brain slowly shut down. "Good-bye, cruel world," she thought dully, her eight brain cells working overtime.
Haggis noticed that Hedwig was no longer breathing and that her eyes had glazed over. "Oh, Harry! My love! The great feathered brute has passed on at last! Shall we cook her, Harry?"
Harry unlocked himself from Haggis's collar bone, where he had been passionately applying a hickie, and glanced over at the lifeless fowl.
He took in the limp feathers, the blood-stained beak, the dull eyes. He dropped to the floor beside Hedwig and prodded her corpse with Haggis's wand, which the lovely girl (bless her heart) had left on the hall table.
"You were my first friend..." Harry murmured pensively, gazing down at Hedwig's small cadaver. Then he grinned wickedly and continued, "...and you sure are going to taste delicious! Ha ha ha! Take that, you dumb bird! I won!"
Hedwig's spirit looked down on the Boy-Who-Lived from the Great Nest in the Sky and felt an irresistible urge to shit on him.
Haggis crouched beside Harry to examine Hedwig's dead body. Harry prodded Hedwig with Haggis's wand a few more times. To his immense surprise, she caught fire!
"GAH!" Harry exclaimed.
Haggis chuckled and reclaimed her wand, dousing Hedwig with a spout of water.
The dead bird was now giving off the lovely aroma of grilled owl flesh. Haggis and Harry's stomachs rumbled.
"We just need some herbs," Harry muttered to himself, "and perhaps some lemon or white wine..."
"My hag-mother has all of that out in the garden," said Haggis cheerfully. "We can go outside and-" Harry silenced her with a passionate kiss. He pinned her to the wall and the two of them began to snog again.
Upstairs, the Hag awoke from a deep slumber, having heard some inexplicable sound in the night (it sounded suspiciously like, "GAH!"). She got out of bed and pulled on her dressing gown. Then she made her way out of her bedroom to go and check on Haggis.
Haggis was not in her bed! Fearing the worst, the Hag charged down the staircase and into the hallway below it. To her horror and fury, she saw Haggis pinned helplessly against the wall by the Boy-Who-Lived, who was now attempting to rip her clothing off without un-gluing himself from her thin, pale lips!
"GAH!" the Hag bellowed, running at Harry. She was livid! She had fucking taken in that insolent little brat and now he was trying to rape her god-daughter... AGAIN!
"PERVET! APE! FILTHY SON OF A SOW AND A CRAWDAD!" the Hag shrieked, using her best insults.
At her last invective, Harry pulled his mouth away from Haggis's and turned to stare at the Hag, fury evident in his face. "My mum was not a sow," he said, deathly quiet, "nor was my dad a crawdad."
"Don't worry, Harry, don't start any-" Haggis began, but Harry did not listen to her.
"You know your mum?" Harry challenged the Hag.
The Hag was bewildered. What was wrong with this child?
"Well, no, actually," the she admitted. "I ate her when I was very young..."
Harry looked taken aback. "Oh... " However, he recovered his composure quickly, and continued, "You know that look she's got? Like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?" He stood back to watch the effect of his clever wit. He had used this line before, with that git, Draco Malfoy, and it had worked exceedingly well.
The Hag looked even more confused. "What the fuck are you talking about, boy?" she asked. She then shook that off and charged toward him. "...And what the fuck were you doing to Haggis! Haggis, get upstairs to bed! And you, slave... I'm calling the authorities on you!"
"WHAT!" Harry cried, aghast. "You can't! I've been convicted of octuple homicide! I'll go to Azkaban for sure!"
The Hag smiled, bemused. "Ah, yes, I'd forgotten that you were a mass murderer... well, I suppose you'll just have to atone for your crimes then, won't you?"
"Hag-mother!" Haggis Plutarch interrupted, sounding very disturbed and worried. "You can't send Harry away! It wasn't just him, Haggie; it was me, too! We're in love, Haggie! I let him do what he was doing just now!"
The Hag stared at her god-daughter in shock mingled with horror. "You like this shrimpy prat?" she asked mockingly. "For the love of humanity, Haggis, you're a perfectly lovely young girl! Why waste your life on a git like this?"
"I can't help my feelings!" Haggis pronounced passionately, and Harry took her slender, blue-veined hand and held it close.
The Hag stared at the two of them in unflattering disbelief. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Haggis and Harry held hands defiantly. Then Harry stupidly decided to take it a bit further: he pushed Haggis back against the wall, started snogging her again, and slid his hand under her nightgown.
"GAH!" the Hag screamed. "Haggis! Don't let him – HAGGIS!"
Haggis was immensely enjoying being felt up by the Boy-Who-Lived. No human male had ever treated her this way before. (Emphasis on "human" and "male," but let's not go there just yet.)
The Hag had turned the colour of a very angry hag.
"POTTER!" she hissed. "STOP TOUCHING MY GOD-DAUGHTER THIS INSTANT!"
Still being defiant, Harry stripped off his shirt and dropped it on the floor.
This was a very idiotic thing to do. The Hag grabbed her god-daughter's wand and pointed it at the shirt, which burst into flames and was quickly incinerated.
"Damn," Harry swore, glancing down at the remains of the only shirt he owned. He was feeling rather sheepish.
The Hag turned to face Harry. She grabbed him about the shoulders and ripped him from Haggis's arms. He fell roughly on the wooden floor, next to Hedwig's mangled corpse.
"GAH!" Harry exclaimed in shock.
"Harry!" Haggis squealed, dropping to the ground next to him and putting her hands on his shoulders supportively.
"BACK, HAGGIS!" the Hag cried, aiming the wand straight at Harry's heart. "I'm going to get rid of this one once and for all!"
"NO! God-mother, DON'T!" Haggis cried, throwing herself in front of Harry protectively.
"STAND ASIDE, YOU SILLY GIRL! STAND ASIDE!" the Hag ordered threateningly, brandishing the wand.
"NO! NOT HARRY! PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING!" Haggis pleaded, beginning to sob.
Harry chuckled despite himself. "Dejà vu," he chortled.
The Hag and Haggis both rolled their eyes. "Shut up; this doesn't concern you," Haggis told Harry, annoyed. Then she turned back to the Hag and continued, "JUST TAKE ME! KILL ME INSTEAD!"
"FINE, BITCH! Good lord..." the Hag pointed her wand at Haggis and shouted, "Avada Kadavra!"
Harry screamed like a woman as Haggis collapsed onto the ground amidst a rush of wind and a flash of green light.