Chapter 9 Flight
Hedwig circled Azkaban once more, the prison's looming presence pulling at her with an invisible force. The island's air was thick with the dark magic of the ward, an oppressive energy that seemed to cloud her senses. She had been here before, but tonight something felt different.
As she drew closer, a familiar scent teased her, only to slip away like smoke the moment she thought she could latch onto it. She flew further, but the trail vanished again, leaving her with nothing but the cold sea and the prison's jagged silhouette.
The ward was working, clouding her senses, making her believe she couldn't find him. No trace of Sirius Black. Return to your master. The search is futile. The thought lingered, not as a voice, but a feeling—a confusion that swirled in her mind. She felt her wings falter, her flight growing uncertain.
Maybe it was pointless. She had tried so many times already. The wizard was gone.
But then, a flicker of a memory: Harry's face, hopeful and trusting.
Her heart swelled with loyalty, and she forced her wings to beat stronger. She couldn't give up. She wouldn't.
Ignoring the pull of the ward, she veered back, determined to push through the cloud of confusion. Her sharp eyes scanned the island once more, and there—just for a moment—she caught the faintest trace of Sirius's essence, deeper now, but unmistakable.
With a final surge of energy, Hedwig powered past the ward's confusion, finding her quarry once again. She was closer now, and nothing—nothing—could stop her.
Hedwig found an open door and swept in past the wards.
"What the…?" A jet of spellfire splashed across the ancient stone, but Hedwig was quicker than the wizard's clumsy magic, and she was sure he had lost her.
Once again, she lost his magic. It ebbed and flowed, always slipping further from her grasp, but each time, she felt it drawing her deeper. She hunted vermin and his lingering scent.
She found a place to roost. The air was damp, heavy with despair, but darkness never bothered her. The dementors took no interest in her—animals didn't have tasty souls.
The distant screams of prisoners gnawed at her concentration, keeping her from truly resting. She tucked her head beneath a wing, muffling the cries of the suffering. Then, with a renewed resolve, she dove deeper into the prison, until she found him.
The wizard was behind a door with metal bars, but Hedwig easily squeezed through, gliding to the cot where he huddled. She extended her leg, the letter addressed to him resting there.
Sirius stared at her, his eyes wide, uncertain. He thought her an illusion, afraid to blink in case the beautiful creature vanished. Then, without warning, Hedwig pecked his ear, and he yelped.
That felt quite real.
His gaze shifted to the letter. His name, written in careful penmanship—Sirius Black—and beneath it, "location unknown—likely dead," scrawled in pencil across the front. He reached for the letter, his fingers trembling slightly.
"Thank you." His voice rasped, strange from disuse. "Don't have any treats... but you're beautiful." He coughed, a harsh, dry sound.
Hedwig nipped affectionately at his chin before fluttering to a small window ledge. She waited as he unfolded the letter, his weathered hands shaking.
He had to wait for the sun. The small crack in the stone, too generous to be called a window, was just big enough for Hedwig to leave. It let in the cold and rain, but offered little in the way of warmth or comfort. As the sun finally crept over the horizon, the weak light provided enough for him to read.
Tears welled in his tired eyes, and as he read, they fell, tracing paths down his scraggly black beard.
Dear Mr. Black,
My name is Harry Potter. A couple of days ago, I went to my vault—I'm eleven and about to start at Hogwarts. I didn't even know I was a wizard until my birthday. Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley for my school supplies and explained a lot of things, but it was finding the portrait of the Marauders that really got things moving.
The painting is brilliant, by the way. Padfoot thinks the only reason you didn't raise me is because you're dead. I hope you aren't dead. Mr. Lupin is going to meet me tomorrow at the public library. If you aren't dead, please respond to my owl. Her name is Hedwig. I just learned that you're my godfather, and I'd really like to meet you.
Harry Potter
Padfoot!You better be dead! It's the only explanation for not taking care of Harry and leaving him with the Muggles. Dead! Understand?
Love, Padfoot
Pads.I hope you aren't dead, but you'd better have a good explanation. Harry's situation is almost as bad as yours was. Come rescue my kid! Please don't be dead.
Love ya, Prongs
Padfoot.I hope you aren't dead. That would be a huge disappointment. Please contact us as soon as possible.
Moony
The letter made him laugh—not the crazed, insane laugh they had grown used to hearing from his parched lips, but one of genuine amusement. For the first time in what felt like ages, something stirred within him. But he had no quill to reply. He felt despair try to claim him.
Hedwig fluttered to his lap, her sharp eyes watching him with concern. She nipped his finger, hard enough to draw blood.
"OW!" Sirius hissed, watching as the blood beaded on the tip of his finger. His gaze dropped to the parchment, and a slow smile crept across his face. "Oh. Smart bird." He flipped the parchment over and, with a careful hand, began to write his reply in his own blood.
"You're doing great, Neville."
Neville didn't feel like he was doing great, but his death grip on the broom was slowly loosening as Harry hovered just beside him.
"Now all you gotta do is open your eyes."
Neville shook his head, swallowing hard. "I don't know, Harry..."
"Come on, Nev. The view is amazing! Just one look. Please?"
With a deep breath, Neville slowly opened his eyes. The tops of the forest trees spread out below him, and the meadow clearing was tiny, barely a postage-stamp in the distance.
"Wow, we really are high up," Neville said, giving Harry a shaky grin.
"That's the point of flying, Nev. Alright, follow me. I'll go slow."
Harry started a lazy circle in the air, and Neville followed cautiously. But as they flew, Harry smoothly shifted into a lazy eight, then added in some climbs and dives.
Before Neville knew it, he was picking up speed, chasing after Harry as he taunted him to keep up. With each turn, Neville's confidence grew, and soon, he was close enough to tag Harry.
Now it was his turn to lead. The two of them made up the game as they went, and before Neville realized it, he'd been flying for over an hour without once thinking about falling.
When he finally landed, he collapsed to the grass, laughing and looking up at the sky with a grin. Harry dropped beside him, panting but smiling.
"So... I think that went well," Harry said, chuckling.
Remus, who had been watching nearby, clapped and cheered. "Quite impressive, Neville. No one would guess you had a fear of heights."
Neville smiled and nodded. "Well, I don't feel afraid of going on a broom anymore." He sighed, sitting up. "Want to go again?"
Before Harry could respond, the sound of wings interrupted him. Hedwig burst through the trees and landed on Harry's shoulder, her head drooping in exhaustion. Yet, with her usual pride, she extended her leg for Harry to take the parchment tied to it.
"Hedwig! I've missed you!" Harry exclaimed, quickly inspecting her from beak to tail. She didn't appear hurt, but she certainly looked tired from her journey.
Harry untied the letter, recognizing it as the one he'd sent. But on the back was a hasty scrawl, written clumsily in what looked like brown ink:
I am Innocent! Pettigrew was the secret keeper. We switched. Harry in danger. Pettigrew alive. Didn't get a trial. Need help.
Remus, who had been watching quietly, froze when he saw the letter. He'd expected Hedwig to return with nothing, but what he saw now was a response from Sirius Black.
It should have been impossible for an owl to get through to Azkaban.
Wordlessly, Harry handed the letter to Remus. "You need to see this, Remus."
Remus took the parchment, reading the words slowly. His face went pale, and before Harry could react, Remus fainted.
"Moony!" Harry cried, panic rising in his chest.
AN: Edited 2/13/25