Onward!

The rainiest day of summer had arrived.

The skies above London had opened up, unleashing a torrential downpour over Islington Borough, but Harry Potter couldn't find it in himself to care. He sat on the wet front steps of 12 Grimmauld Place, staring out at the dreary suburban landscape. It had been weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts and months since he'd lost Hedwig, but the pain felt as fresh as ever.

Despite the rain soaking through his clothes, Harry barely noticed. He'd been sitting here for over an hour, lost in his thoughts and memories.

The sound of rain and occasional thunder filled the air. Harry found no peace in the rhythmic patter against the pavement.

He couldn't stop thinking about Hedwig.

She had been part of his life for as long as he'd known about the wizarding world, and there was never a summer at the Dursleys' where she wasn't present. Hedwig had been his one connection to the magical world during those miserable months at Privet Drive, something he couldn't even say for Ron and Hermione after they practically ignored him after their Fourth Year.

But Hedwig was gone now.

Harry blinked hard, forcing back tears. He'd cried enough, hadn't he? But the ache in his chest disagreed and her death played over and over in his mind. The flash of green light, her soft body crumpling to the bottom of her cage. It had happened so fast, so suddenly. One moment she was there, his faithful friend, and the next...

"If only there was a way to keep her safe," he muttered. "If only I could have protected her."

This was the real world, with real loss and real pain that no amount of wishing could undo.

The crack of Apparition split the air interrupting his thoughts.

Harry's hand was on his wand before his mind had fully registered the sound, muscle memory from months of running taking over. He looked up and through the curtain of rain, he could make out three figures standing in the street, their dark robes whipping in the wind.

Death Eaters…

Harry sighed. Their dark lord was dead. Couldn't they just leave off?

"Potter!" A familiar voice shouted—Rodolphus Lestrange. "Your luck's run out, boy!"

A jet of green light illuminated the raindrops, turning them to emerald droplets for a fraction of a second. Harry rolled off the steps, his clothes already soaked through. The killing curse struck the spot where he'd been sitting, leaving a scorched mark on the stone.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, but Rodolphus deflected it easily. The other two Death Eaters spread out, trying to flank him. Harry recognized Rookwood's scarred face beneath one hood, but the third was a stranger.

"The Dark Lord may be gone," Rookwood called out, his voice barely audible over the rain, "but we'll finish what he started!"

"Better wizards than you have tried," Harry spat back as a barrage of curses forced him to dive behind a parked car, the metal singing as spells ricocheted off it.

The door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place stood just behind him, its weathered black paint gleaming with rain. He could have retreated into the house, behind the layers of protective charms. But Harry was tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of losing people he loved while Death Eaters still walked free.

His fingers tightened around his wand, the familiar wood warm despite the cold rain and he stepped out from behind the car. "Confringo!" he yelled, blasting the ground at their feet. The explosion sent chunks of wet pavement flying.

Rodolphus slashed his wand through the air. "Diffindo!"

The cutting curse caught Harry across his arm, opening a long gash that immediately began to bleed.

"Expelliarmus!" The spell left Harry's wand with such force it illuminated the entire street. It struck the Death Eater dead center, lifting Rodolphus off his feet. The man's wand went spinning away into the rain as he slammed into a lamppost with a sickening crunch.

One down.

A loud horn blared through the rain.

Harry turned to see the Knight Bus careening around the corner, its massive tires throwing up sheets of water.

"Impedimenta!"

In that split second of distraction, Rookwood's jinx struck him in the side. Harry stumbled, his legs going numb, and fell into the street.

The last thing he saw was the Knight Bus's headlights bearing down on him, impossibly bright through the rain.

Icy cold splashes of rain against his cheek woke Harry up.

It wasn't like those dramatic scenes in a muggle movie, where the hero suddenly jolts awake from a deep sleep. It was more similar to those mornings when you're extremely tired and try to delay getting out of bed for as long as possible.

I'm... alive? The thought felt distant, unreal.

Harry opened his eyes and squinted against the downpour. His hands went to his body, fingers probing through wet clothes, searching for injuries that should have been deadly. The cutting curse had opened his arm during the fight, but even that wound was gone now. No broken bones, no crushed ribs, nothing that suggested he'd been hit by a bus. Not even a bruise. Just the persistent ache in his head and a bone-deep exhaustion that seemed to seep in with the rain.

What happened? he thought, baffled by the absence of pain. Harry remembered the impact clearly—it had been too real to imagine. He should be seriously injured, if not dead.

Unless... had someone healed him?

Harry pushed himself up, his hands sinking into what felt like mud. He squinted in a futile attempt to make sense of his surroundings, but the world around him was a blur of shapes and colors.

I need my glasses… Harry patted the ground around him, searching blindly for the familiar shape. His fingers brushed against them, and he quickly slid them on.

Pushing himself to his feet, he squinted through the rain and was confused at what he saw. He was on a muddy dirt road with towering trees that lined both sides of the path, their leaves rustling violently in the wind.

A brilliant flash of lightning split the sky, illuminating everything for a brief second. Harry caught a glimpse of something in the distance—mountains. Massive, dark, jagged peaks looming against the stormy sky miles away.

Wherever he was, it wasn't Islington Borough. Not even close.

Another flash of lightning streaked across the sky, and this time, Harry could see more clearly. The road he stood on cut through a vast, grassy field, stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions. He took a deep breath, and even the air tasted different. Fresher was the only way he could describe it.

It was clear he wasn't in any part of London he recognized. He took a deep breath, the air crisp and clean, tasting fresher than anything he'd ever breathed before.

Standing up, Harry noticed his clothes were dry despite the rain, though he could already feel them starting to soak through. He looked around the area again, trying to piece together where he might be. The only thing that stood out other than the complete change of scenery was that the road beneath his feet was churned with mud, clearly marked by the passage of people—on foot, not in cars.

So, he was somewhere that didn't use cars as the main mode of transportation. Far away from any city then.

"How in Merlin's name did that happen...?" Harry muttered, his voice nearly drowned out by the storm.

Then a much louder voice cut through the rain.

"We're almost at Viridian City!"

Harry blinked against the heavy rain, straining to see who had spoken.

Through the downpour, he spotted a figure—a boy, drenched to the bone, pedaling furiously down the muddy road on a bike. As the figure got closer, Harry noticed something strange in the bike's basket—a small yellow creature, seemingly curled up and... were those sparks coming from its cheeks?

"Just hang on, Pikachu, we're almost there!"

Harry could barely hear the boy shouting over the pouring rain, but louder still was the sound of flapping wings.

A lot of wings.

Harry looked up curiously. A flash of lightning lit up the dark sky, and he saw a giant flock of small bird-like creatures moving across the sky like a cloud.

Their numbers were...almost uncountable. There were hundreds, maybe thousands. Just the sound of their wings flapping was louder than a biker gang revving their engines. The furious flock swooped low, their sharp beaks pecking viciously at the boy's exposed skin as he desperately tried to protect the yellow creature in the basket.

Still, the boy managed to keep control and blew past Harry on the bike, kicking up a muddy spray, and disappeared into the stormy night.

"What was that...?" Harry said incredulously, staring after the boy. "That wasn't any creature I've studied in Care of Magical Creatures..."

He had no time to process what was going on as a sharp cry echoed overhead. His head snapped up just in time to see one of the bird-like creatures break away from the flock, its beady eyes locking with his.

With a shrill cry, it flew towards him, beak and talon ready to attack.

Harry reached into his pocket for his wand, only to find his fingers brushing against something unfamiliar.

Frowning, he pulled it out and instead of his wand, he was holding a strange device resembling a futuristic muggle phone. It was more like an orange brick with a camera bulb at the top corner, something he'd never seen before.

"What is this?" Harry muttered, turning the red device over in his hands.

There was another shriek of rage, and he looked up to see the bird creature dive-bombing at him, its beak glowing white.

"Bloody hell!" Harry cursed and dove to the side, rolling through the mud.

The small bird-like creature was fast, and it was only reflexes from years of Quidditch and fighting dark wizards that let him narrowly avoid losing an eye. Even then, he still felt the whoosh of air as talons swiped near his face and a sharp pain across his cheek.

But the creature wasn't done; it circled back, readying for another dive. Its beak opened in a fierce cry and its wings started to glow.

That was not good.

"Accio Wand!"

Harry waited, every fiber of him hoping, praying that the wandless spell would work…and then he heard it, speeding through the air behind him; he turned and saw his wand flying out of the mud.

The bird-creature let out another angry squawk. Its wings beat hard, whipping up a gust of wind as it shot at him like a bullet.

Harry caught his wand. "Protego!" he created a shield between him and the angry creature.

Only the bird's glowing beak never came close.

A round, snow-white owl-like creature blew past Harry's shoulder. It was unlike any owl Harry had ever seen—round-bodied with impossibly large, red eyes.

The attacking bird squawked angrily, and the two creatures collided in a flurry of feathers and harsh cries. The aerial skirmish was brief; the snow-white owl's superior size and strength quickly overpowered the smaller bird. It caught the attacker in its talons with an iron grip that left no room for escape and flung the smaller creature to the ground.

A harsh pained cry filled the air and Harry's eyes snapped up to the sky. If the flock heard that, he was going to be in trouble. But there was nothing but storm clouds and rain as the smaller bird let out a final indignant shriek before taking flight, disappearing quickly into the safety of the nearby woods.

The owl-like creature turned towards him and Harry saw it clearly. Two large, red eyes blinked owlishly, seeming almost too big for its small, rotund body.

He didn't know how or why, but the moment they locked eyes he knew.

"Hedwig?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

It should have been impossible. She was dead. But he knew, deep down, that it was her. Even though this owl's shape was completely different from Hedwig's old body, the way she tilted her head, and the intelligent glint in her red eyes—it all pointed to the same conclusion; Hedwig was here with him.

She hooted softly, flapping her stubby wings to flutter over and land gracefully on his shoulder.

"So, you're... different now," Harry laughed; the absurdity of the situation was not lost on him. Here he was, in Merlin-knows-where, with strange creatures he'd never seen before, and his dead friend somehow alive again in a new body.

It was bizarre, unbelievable, and yet, here they were.

"Looks like we're in this together, huh?" Harry said, reaching out to gently stroke her soft, white feathers. "You and me, just like before."

Hedwig dipped her head, nibbling playfully on his ear as she had so many times before.

Harry didn't know how or why, but that didn't matter. Hedwig was here. She was different, but she was alive again, that was all that mattered.