Owl Like No Other
Hedwig wakes up to three people towering over her.
Hedwig stares back at them. She has her own little cot pushed up against Harry’s.
She is greeted by the legendary and whimsical Nicholas Flamel himself.
“Oh, my dear Hedwig, I see you’ve found my stone. You certainly know how to make an impression, don’t you?”
He looked at her like she was the most impressive sight he had ever seen.
“I have to admit, you’ve made my day with a gesture like that. Well done, Hedwig, well done.”
She ate his life force.
Her bad.
She feels a strange sensation in her body. Maybe it’s just another shit coming on.
Thinking on it now, Hedwig is rather relieved that Nicholas did not try to rip it out of her like Voldemort intended.
Is it still in her? Oh no, will she be able to shit this out?
“Hedwig! Im so glad you’re okay.”
Harry hugs her. He smells like kid sweat. She instinctively feels the urge to beat him up and plunge herself into water.
“They thought you were going to implode!”
They what.
Harry buries his face into her feathers.
“Ah yes, about that…”
Nicholas and Dumbledore look at each other.
“Well.” Nicholas bites his lips, as if weighing how to say his next sentences.
“I’m afraid I must share some surprising news with you. It seems that when you ingested the Philosophers Stone, you absorbed its very powers into your being.”
So she wouldn’t have to shit a rock out.
What a relief.
“In other words, Hedwig, you have developed a fully mature magical core. Congratulations!”
Huh.
“And you might be just a little bit immortal but that’s not exactly something we can test out. I mean, unless you’d like to see, of course?”
Harry gives him a nasty glare.
Zeus could recharge his bolt with that one. She’s teaching him well.
He clears this throat.
“And I can see the intelligence in your eyes. In my opinion, absorbing such a magical artifact should have increased your awareness, giving you a bigger perspective and an awareness similar to a humans.”
She already had that, thanks.
“You are now more than just an owl Hedwig, you are a force to be reckoned with.”
…
So she developed a magical core?
What she was gathering from this, she would be able to personally greet Voldemort with some actions of encouragement.
Why did Harry and Dumbledore look mildly horrified?
(Harry's wild imagination was running rampant as he pictured Ghost Rider with all of his iconic attributes: the leather jacket, the terrifying spikes, and most importantly, his fiery skull head. But, his skull was substituted with a familiar face, Hedwig's. He was faced with an image so absurd and unsettling that it practically shook him to his core.)
(Dumbledore stood there, his gaze glossy and blank, his head turning slowly from side to side as though hoping to spot something of interest in the monotonous hospital wing wall. He resembled an old man with memory issues, rather than a school professor. His mind was full of the future and inevitable complaints.)
— —
Hedwig found someone she actually enjoyed being around.
Fawkes.
Fire.
Dumbledore’s office was a a complete and utter disaster.
Harry and Hedwig were invited up to test out how on earth Hedwig would be able to tap into her magic.
Would she need a wand?
No.
She could throw magic around like a goddamned troll.
Now, if she could figure out how to mix an element in there rather than a small microburst, she would be happy.
Magical items were scattered everywhere, many of them hazardously thrown or just in piles on the floor.
She accidentally embedded Dumbledore’s candlestick into the wall. It was magically enchanted to stay lit, so it started a small fire.
One of the portraits was lost, but no one liked him much anyway.
The room was now so cluttered that it felt like a game of “I-Spy” to find anything useful.
Dumbledore just laughed like the crazy old mad wizard he was.
“Whoops!”
Harry looked at her with a mix of exasperation and resignedness.
Even he wouldn’t have dared to destroy the Headmasters office.
In Hedwigs defense, she was brought up here.
And no one told her to stop.
She dove in on Fawkes again, causing the last few scrolls on Dumbledore’s desk to go flying.
Similar to how they met just an hour ago, they began circling each other like two jousting knights, squawks echoing loudly as another bookcase falls over.
The “Monster Book of Monsters” pelts Harry right in the face, creating a whole other issue and another visit to the hospital wing.
— —
—
It’s the final days of first year.
Hedwig is in the middle of trying to use her magic to hunt.
Alas, all she has done is accidentally explode her prey.
At least they didn’t feel death?
It’s a massacre. Perhaps Hedwig might need to practice a bit more.
She picks up Hagrid’s letter that she was supposed to deliver to Harry.
As Hedwig flies into the great hall, the entire room falls silent.
All eyes were on her as she made her way across the room with an ominous calmness.
No one dared to speak or move, as though doing so would break the spell of dread that had fallen over the room.
She lands on the table in front of Harry, one foot in a dish of Ron’s mashed potatoes.
She drops the letter.
She waits for him to pick it up.
A continual drip comes off of her. It starts to create a puddle.
It’s blood.
There was a collective backing up from the students around her.
Harry is confused and slightly concerned, as he has no idea how she got absolutely drenched in blood and… internals?
He slowly takes the letter and reads it.
Hedwig dries her foot off on Ron’s robes and flies off.
Harry’s hands are now covered in blood.
The hall is still silent.