Hedwig’s Misadventures

Harry and Hedwig were called up to Dumbledore’s office not even a full week into the school year.

Harry has a number of ideas of what this could be about, none of them good.

Hopefully it wasn’t because of Dobby’s… incident.

Harry wasn’t a part of it, he swears! He doesn’t know and doesn’t ask what Dobby and Hedwig get up to.

When they walked in, Dumbledore’s eyes shot up at Hedwig immediately, whispering out a “Good Lord.”

Dumbledore sounded quite astonished.

“What a peculiar… hue. If I may inquire, what did you use?”

He examined Hedwig closer.

Hedwig was dyed different shades of color. Her feathers were now bright pink with blue and red stripes, giving her the appearance of a rainbow bird.

She still looked like a predator, but at least she doesn’t look like she was about to rip out anyone’s throat. She kind of resembled a clown. Harry didn’t want to know why she resembled a clown.

It probably wasn’t a coincidence that Snape’s hair turned that exact same shade in the middle of class.

Snape left class early. Harry could swear he heard a sniffle.

(That was her plan all along.)

“I’m not sure. You’d have to ask Hedwig.”

This is when Dumbledore gets a look on his face that gives Harry a funny feeling.

“Ask Hedwig, you say? What a brilliant idea, my boy. An idea I’ve been toying with all summer.”

Harry doesn’t like the sound of this.

Dumbledore drums his fingers on his desk.

“You see, with Hedwig having magic, there are so many things I can do with this!”

“Don’t you mean with her?”

“Yes yes that’s it. That’s what I meant.”

Hedwig thinks she can see where this is going.

“Have you heard of the mind arts, Harry?”

Hedwig is liking this.

“No sir.”

“Ah. I would like to introduce this to you and Hedwig specifically. There is someone I had in mind for this but, well, he didn’t feel like taking on this task, I should say.”

(As soon as he heard the proposal, he started shivering and a look of hate took over his face. He ran out of the classroom with the panic of a child pissing his pants in front of the class while doing a show and tell.)

“I hope you won’t mind taking lessons from an old man?”

Fuck, of course that little coward refused. Ruining her day. He was too afraid to face her and her righteous wrath.

She could see it now, that look on his face, the one she’d been imagining.

It would be a face full of terror, of pure, unadulterated terror, and she was determined to see it.

He would pay.

“Lessons from you, sir? Are you sure you have the time?”

Dumbledore’s face became serious.

“Time is endless to me.”

He had that weird old man wisdom tone, as though what he was about to say would rock your whole worldview.

“Time is merely a circle, my boy, and I’ve had my share of its squares. I’ve been spinning for years. Oceans full. I embrace it while relishing these moments with you. I always have time, because time is all I have.”

He pauses for a moment, staring off into space.

“Is all I have…”

…

What.

Harry glanced over at Hedwig for help.

Never mind, Hedwig could still look murderous with neon colored feathers.

—

Over the next month, they had regular 5:00pm meetings with Dumbledore.

They found out that Hedwig was able to communicate in mental pictures through legilimency, not words.

She let Dumbledore dive into her mind lightly, not even realizing that he might be able to see her memories of Crystal.

And when Dumbledore dove into her mind a little deeper than he was supposed to, Hedwig fell into a last second panic and couldn’t help but remember that one meme she saw of Dumbledore in a red speedo drinking a margarita.

He left quickly.

Crisis averted.

(No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape the vivid image of himself scantily posing in an owl's mind.

It was invasive. It refused to end. His eyes would shut, only to see the image playing on the backs of his eyelids. But this wasn't just an intrusive thought or a horror movie; it was reality for him now, for she had scarred his subconscious mind in a way that wouldn't soon heal.)

Harry had a big therapy session with Dumbledore, the old man not realizing just how badly he fucked up Harry’s childhood.

They reconciled.

Hoping to offer an olive branch, Dumbledore willingly unleashed Dobby at the Dursleys.

Dobby, the loyal defender of Harry Potter.

They made bets on when the ministry would send out their first ever house elf warrant.

Unfortunately for the ministry, Dobby was even nuttier than anyone thought. If they catch him, it’ll be an instant release.

Harry was leaning up against Dumbledore’s desk, only to accidentally bump into Fawkes’ perch.

Fawkes, who hadn’t been looking too well for some time now, collapsed to the ground with a dead thump, the sound echoing in the quietness of the office.

He laid there looking dead for a full minute as they all looked at him.

He then caught fire and turned into a puddle of ashes.

Hedwig and Harry looked at each other.

Hedwig, still poking at a piece of candy, scooted away slowly, putting the blame on the one closest to the ashes.

Hedwig watched as Harry looked up at Dumbledore with his mouth agape and skin milky white. He had a horrified expression on his face as his hands went up in an “I’m innocent” gesture. It was as if the old man had a gun and aimed it at him.

Hedwig thought Harry looked overdramatic, so she turned around to look at Dumbledore.

Oh my god, Dumbledore was holding a gun.

Harry’s hands covered his head to protect himself.

With twinkling eyes, Dumbledore aimed at Fawkes and shot.

It was just a huge gust of air. The ashes went up in the air and Fawkes reformed.

Dumbledore reconstructed the gun back into his wand.

Dumbledore felt that now was a good time to tell them that he wants to go camping with them next summer.

—

Dobby, the loyal defender of Harry Potter, was on a mission to exact revenge on the Dursleys for their mistreatment of his beloved Harry Potter.

“How dare they? How dare they?”

He chanted this as he rubbed his face along the siding of the house, claiming this house as his own through the use of bodily contact.

He lifted his leg up, committing an unspeakable act.

His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings, looking for a way to make his way into the Dursley household.

Suddenly, a small sound made him stop in his tracks, the sound of something moving. His ears twitched as he listened, his little body perfectly still up against the side of the house until he heard it again. He had found them; now was the time.

Dobby was like a juggernaut, a force of nature that couldn't be stopped once he set his mind to something.

He went after the Dursleys like a missile, blowing through doors and walls and anything else that stood in his way. He was single-minded in his pursuit, and he wouldn't stop until the Dursleys had been punished.

Petunia Dursley would wake up to a monster from hell standing over her, its crooked fangs glinting in the dim light of her bedroom.

She would stare at it in fear, too afraid to move or even breathe as it loomed over her, breathing hot, rancid breath and snarling in a way defiant of humanity.

The monster would slowly lean down to her, its body reeking of rot and death, its green eyes glinting in the night.

Petunia would hold her breath, waiting for the monster to attack, and pray that she would wake up from this nightmare.

—

Hedwig kept trying to make eye contact with Snape.

He wouldn’t look at her.

So she would make him.

It was in the middle of the night when she appeared, dangling upside down from his shower rod, peering right into his eyes as he sat on the toilet.

Snape was in the midst of a peaceful, solitary moment of relief from all his duties and responsibilities, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

His mind was free, his bowels were empty, and he was feeling quite content previously.

Snape froze in place, his breath catching in his throat and his heart skipping a beat.

Snape was used to being the terror who made everyone else flinch and call for their mommies, but it was his turn as she sent him a very intentional mental photo.

Snape let out a shout of terror and fell off the toilet, his legs flailing wildly as they were still contained in his pants.

In a moment of rare adult accidental magic induced from severe panic, the toilet exploded and he was instantly covered in the aftermath of his bowel movement.

Snape was a proud man and this was an experience he would forcefully forget.

That was the plan, until however, he looked back up at the apocalyptic owl and she sent him a mental image of what he looked like from her perspective.

His dignity was nowhere to be found.

Hedwig set off the confetti she brought.