Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Ships:
Other Canon Witch/Harry Potter
Characters:
Harry Potter Ron Weasley
Genres:
Drama
Era:
The Harry Potter at Hogwarts Years
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone
Stats:
Published: 05/31/2002
Updated: 05/31/2002
Words: 4,127
Chapters: 1
Hits: 893

Behind the Eyes of an Owl

Nostrademons

Story Summary:
When Ron is captured, Harry must turn to an unlikely visitor for information and comfort. But can she help him through the most painful ordeal of all - the truth? A serious Harry/Hedwig fic.

Chapter Summary:
When Ron is captured, Harry must turn to an unlikely visitor for information and comfort. But can she help him through the most painful ordeal of all - the truth? A serious Harry/Hedwig fic.
Posted:
05/31/2002
Hits:
893
Author's Note:
Here's a little birthday present for Simon. It's about time Harry/Hedwig had some serious fics written, so here's my shot. The shipperiness is pretty light (I do friendship better than romance), but hey, can't have everything. Also a little depressing - that's the direction the fic wanted to go, so I didn't fight it.


At first, he had thought her a ghost. A dream, a vision, like so many others that had haunted him that year. Her first visit was in December of his third year, soon after his ill-fated illicit visit to Hogsmeade.

She had appeared during the night, that sleepless night where past had blended into present, dream into reality, sleep into waking. In between visions of Black and Voldemort, she had appeared at the foot of his bed, a girl his own age. Long hair, the color of clouds, crested down her back, a halo in the moonlight. But her most striking feature was her eyes - two enormous slitted spheres. They gave her the appearance of a doe - or an owl.

"Who are you?" Harry had managed to stammer. He pulled the covers in tight, fearful of this new stranger.

She didn't speak, only sat down besides him. Her face was filled with concern, those two wide eyes reflecting Harry's fear. Harry relaxed at once, an implicit trust forming between them. Whoever this stranger was, Harry felt like he had known her for years, shared some of his most intimate moments with her.

She took his hand in her, a gentle, delicate touch. Her nails were long, but didn't scratch. Her skin was soft, almost like a feather pillow. Through the connection between them, Harry could feel his fears melting away. It was as if she understood, understood all the pain Harry had suffered through, all he had seen. Without speaking, she managed to draw the worst of his worries from him, easing his mind. He closed his eyes, suddenly at peace.

When he opened them, she was gone. He wondered briefly if he had imagined it all. Hedwig sat off in her cage in the corner, watching him. She was the only female in the room. No strange girls at all.

But still, Harry felt oddly at peace. The events of yesterday were still with him, but felt fainter now, less painful. He pushed thoughts of the girl from his mind, and fell back asleep, the first glimmers of daylight shining through his window.

Over the next four years, he saw the girl a few more times. The next was after that horrible night at the Shrieking Shack, and then again after the Triwizard Tournament and Cedric's death. Each time, she came during the night and left before daybreak, leaving Harry to wonder if she had ever existed at all. She never spoke or left any physical clues behind, and Harry often forgot about her visits by morning. It was as if she was unimportant in the grand scheme of things, a comforting presence, but never one to have a big effect on Harry's life.

Until Ron disappeared.

*****

"Harry - you can't do everything on your own! It's foolhardy! One of these days, Voldemort is going to catch up with you, and we'll all be sorry." Ron's eyes betrayed concern, mixed with anger and a fiery determination. Harry silently wished he would go away.

They were in the Gryffindor common room, what seemed to be one of the few safe-havens in these times of troubles. With Voldemort rapidly regaining his full strength, the world seemed poised to enter a new Time of Troubles. Even the classrooms were no longer safe - one could never be sure who might secretly be working for the other side. The stress spilled over into their everyday lives, and tensions ran high.

"This is my war," Harry said forcefully. "He was coming after me when he was last defeated. He killed my parents. I've defeated him before; I'll defeat him again."

"It's not," said Ron. "We all want to see Voldemort defeated. This is our fight - every free wizard and witch's. The only thing you'll accomplish by going it alone is to put us all in danger."

"We're all in danger. I want to minimize that danger for everyone else." Harry thought back to Cedric, to Hagrid, to his parents, to all those who had been killed because they'd been close to them. He glanced over at Hermione, poring over a book of countercurses in the corner, and then looked back towards Ron. "Everyone around me seems to die; I don't want to take that chance with you or Hermione."

"Dammit, Harry, we want to help. We're no safer than anyone else here. Voldemort's just as likely to come for us in our beds as kill us in battle. You aren't going to keep us safe by pushing us away."

"I'm not pushing you away, I'm trying to keep you -" Harry began, but Ron, exasperated, turned away and headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

"Talk to me in the morning, Harry, it feels like I'm beating my head against a brick wall here."

Harry let his friend go. Nothing would happen within the safety of Gryffindor tower. Besides, he had other pressing concerns to take care of. He joined Hermione at her stack of books, trying to find spells that may be of use in defending against a crazed murderer like Voldemort.

*****

Many hours passed before Harry retired for the night. Almost all of Gryffindor had already gone to sleep, leaving him and Hermione alone in the common room. They worked until Harry could barely keep his eyes open, and only then did they call it a night, heading up to their respective dormitories.

When Harry got there, Ron was gone.

As were all the other Gryffindor boys.

Their beds had been disturbed, as if they had gotten up in a hurry. The tower window hung open, shutters flapping in the breeze. A chill hung in the air, a feeling that something was not as it should be.

Of course something was not as it should be - four boys were missing!

Harry looked around, searching for clues. Not a human soul in sight. Off in her cage, Hedwig gave a loud screech - she was frightened too.

He did the only sensible thing he could - he ran off, looking for help.

*****

The next 20 hours left Harry drawn and haggard. An endless parade of professors, detectives, aurors, and concerned parents descended upon Gryffindor Tower. Harry stayed up all night and all day, doing his best to answer questions. By nightfall the next day, he was ready to collapse.

He trudged up the stairway to his bed, grateful to be left alone for once. Without removing his clothes, he flopped down on the bed, sinking into its lush softness. He closed his eyes, letting the blackness welcome him.

It didn't last long. Something wakened him, a feeling that something important was about to happen. His eyes flickered open.

She was there. Standing at the foot of his bed.

Like a ghost from so many nights in his past, she stood there, not moving. Moonlight embraced her, giving her an almost divine radiance.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, the question from so many nights before.

She merely pointed to Hedwig's empty cage in the corner.

The girl? Hedwig? It couldn't be.

Too improbably, too outrageous. He'd had that owl since he'd first learned he was a wizard. Animagi were rare - what was the chance that his owl would be one?

But it made sense, in an odd way. Hadn't Hedwig always seemed like a person anyways, an exceptionally fussy and arrogant one at times? It would explain how the girl could get into his dormitory, and why she only came at night. And come to think of it, he'd never noticed Hedwig in the room at the same time as the girl.

He glanced from the cage back to her, querying. She nodded in acknowledgement. Nothing more.

"Do you speak?" Harry asked.

"Yes," the girl - Hedwig - replied.

"Why are you here?" he ventured.

She looked as if she was wrestling with herself for a moment, trying to decide whether to tell. In the end, loyalty won out over caution. "I saw them take him," she said, tersely.

No need to explain who "him" was. Four boys had disappeared, but only one was best friends with Harry.

"Who? Why? Where?" Harry stammered.

"I don't know where," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "It was a bunch of men, with illusion charms on. They came while people slept...charmed then...carried them off." Her voice broke off there - Harry couldn't tell if she just couldn't continue or if she didn't know. Either way, he knew he'd get no further information from her.

He shot her a look. He couldn't help it - with all the tension of the past day, he was in no mood for tantalizing hints. To have a possible lead just dry up on him, and all because owl-girl wouldn't talk...

"Harry," she began, and stopped. She looked about to cry. Instead of continuing, she reached out, extending a hand to Harry.

He took it. It was cold, a chilling cold born of fear. Momentarily, he jerked back, breaking the connection. The pain came instantaneously - it was as if he needed to know, needed to feel. He reached out again, grasping for her hand...

And then felt as if he were being plunged into a deep abyss of murky black water. He gasped, and felt his breath flood into him. It stung, like a massive hammer beating down his insides, but he held on. Slowly, the scene cleared.

He looked around. The other boys were in their beds, fast asleep. A still calm pervaded the air, unnerving him. Nothing could be this peaceful. Nothing except dreams and death.

Harry moved over to the window. A cool breeze blew by him, chilling him with the night air. He looked out onto the Scottish countryside. The nearly-full moon hung over the land, blanketing it with an eerie glow.

Suddenly, a dot appeared on the horizon. No, seven dots. They grew quickly, resolving themselves into seven riders on broomsticks. Panic rising, Harry looked around for some place to hide. There was nowhere - nowhere that wouldn't be searched eventually, at least. Would Harry be taken with his friends this time?

The riders had reached the castle now. Harry ducked behind the curtains, praying that they wouldn't notice him.

Quietly, quickly, the riders dismounted inside the room. Harry couldn't make out their features - as Hedwig had said, they seemed to be cloaked behind some spell. But there was no mistaking the evil intent their faces held.

Loyalty winning out over fear, he ran to Ron's bed, trying to put himself between his friend and the attackers. He had his wand, after all, and he'd certainly learned plenty of countercurses in his seven years at Hogwarts.

Strangely, none of the trespassers noticed.

"Hey!" Harry called out. "Over here! You'll have to deal with me before you can harm any of them!" He moved directly in front of the nearest attacker, physically blocking his path.

The man walked right through him.

So that was it. This was a vision, a memory that Hedwig was somehow transferring to him. There was nothing he could do but watch. Frustration welled up inside of him.

Four men strode over to the beds, one beside each boy. Two others guarded the entries - the door and the window. The ringleader seemed to be mouthing a silent count-down. "Three...two...one..."

Simultaneously, the four men whispered the word "Dormiendus." The boys' breathing slowed and grew deeper - they appeared to have fallen into a deep, unrousable slumber, a place beyond the dream world.

One by one, the intruders scooped up each boy's body and placed it on their broomsticks. Silently, wordlessly, they took off and faded into the night sky.

Alone now, Harry felt a wave of emotion, anger and despair and fear mixed together. His friends were gone, taken off to who-knows-where, and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't even know where they were or how far away or what direction they went. All he could do was sit around and wait.

The room started spinning around him, a violent, nausea-inducing whirl. It grew blurry and indistinct, and again Harry felt the sensation of drowning. The world grew translucent, then opaque, as if he was looking through a sea of bubbles.

When it cleared, Harry found himself back in his dormitory, alone. Hedwig was in her cage, back in owl form.

*****

Harry woke the next morning with a pounding headache. The night's experiences had taken their toll on him, and he felt tired and overdrawn. Grumpily, he headed downstairs to breakfast.

The table seemed empty without the 7th year boys. Harry sat down next to Hermione and stared at his meal. He didn't feel like eating. There were other things on his mind.

Hermione glanced at him with concern. "Eat, Harry. Starving yourself won't help us find them any faster. You'll need your strength for the coming days."

Harry just grunted.

After breakfast, the Minister of Magic came to interview him. The disappearance of four students from Hogwarts grounds was big news, big enough that the Ministry was now directly involved.

Unfortunately, the Minister didn't seem to realize this.

"I'm sure they'll turn up," he said casually. "Lost boys always do."

Dumbledore seemed to be trying hard to keep his patience. "These are kidnapped children we're talking about, Cornelius. They don't just spontaneously disappear."

"Are you sure? A couple did back in 1942...we just found them last year. Turns out they'd had a bit of an accident with a Time Turner."

"We have eyewitness accounts of these," Dumbledore said, indicating Harry. "This is a kidnapping, not a case of accidental misplacement."

"Well, then, let's see what we can find out about these assailants." Fudge turned to Harry, looking him over with probing yet somehow dismissive eyes.

"What'd you see," Fudge asked.

"I...I got there after they'd been taken. All the boys were gone. Their beds had been disturbed, like they'd been taken by force." Harry debated briefly whether to add the vision Hedwig had given him, but decided against it. It would raise too many questions, and probably get Hedwig in trouble, besides - Animagi were all supposed to be registered, and Harry was pretty sure Hedwig wasn't.

"Is that all?" Fudge looked disappointed. "It certainly doesn't give us much to go on. For all we know, they may have decided to take a midnight excursion to Hogsmeade."

Harry felt all the anger and frustration of the past couple of days well up inside of him. "Mr. Minister, if you had seen what I'd seen..." he began.

Fudge promptly cut him off. "No need to get smart. I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about. I'll assign one of my best aurors - Simon Branford - to the case, but as for me - I've got more important things to deal with." He got up and walked out of the room, leaving Harry and Dumbledore speechless.

Luckily, this Simon Branford proved much easier to work with. He took the case very seriously, and was obviously a competent auror. His questions showed a genuine interest in the case and a strong competency in his field.

"I've got two daughters myself," Simon said, in response to Harry's queries on why he was so diligent. "The older one - her name's Gemini - is a third year here at Hogwarts. She's always looked up to you and Ron, you know. Quite a fan. The younger one - RoccRose - will be starting school next year. I daresay she's got quite a crush on you."

He winked at Harry, then went on in a more serious tone of voice. "I'd hate to think of one of them going missing. It's about the worst thing that can happen to a loved one. All the uncertainty, the waiting. I'd go mad with worry."

Something about his earnestness made Harry feel much more at ease. The questions were difficult and draining, but he felt like he could trust this Simon Branford to put things right. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same about the rest of the Ministry. If Fudge was any indication, they'd never find his friends.

After a full day of questioning, Harry retired up the stairs, to his empty dorm room.

*****

Hedwig was there, in human form. She sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. Upon seeing her, all the events of last night flooded back into Harry's mind. The frustration, the helplessness. His weariness forgotten, he lashed out at her.

"Why didn't you do something? You were there the whole time. You could have screeched, or fought back, or done something."

Hedwig took a long time to answer. When she finally did, it was in a soft, unsteady voice. "I'm a watcher Harry, not a doer. I'm not like you. I can't suddenly immerse myself in the action."

"So you just sat back and watched?" Harry said sharply.

She was shaking now, overcome with fear or guilt or something. "I observed. I remembered. I tried to capture it all, so you'd have a fighting chance of tracking them down."

"But you did nothing."

"Look at me Harry." She was staring straight at him now, those enormous slitted eyes fixed on his face. She held out her arm - her frail, thin, bird-like arm. In the moonlight, he could see how pale, almost translucent, her skin was. "Do I look like I could have done something? My powers are for observing and understanding, not acting. They would have brushed me aside like a sack of feathers."

"You could have called out, brought in some help."

"You saw them. They had both entryways covered. Anyone that showed up would have just been carted off too - or worse."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that. "Look, I'm tired. We can argue about it in the morning. Go back to your cage and stay an owl for a while."

And just like that, she did.

*****

As it turned out, they didn't discuss it the next morning. Or the next day, for that matter. Harry didn't see Hedwig (in human form) for more than a month. She stayed in her cage most of the time, occasionally venturing out for long flights over the countryside. Harry missed her a little - he felt slightly guilty about their last conversation, and missed talking to her.

The investigation was not going well. The Ministry didn't have a clue where the boys had been taken. They scoured the British Isles, but turned up nothing. It seemed as if his fellow students had just vanished without a trace.

Eventually, the flurry about the missing boys just seemed to die down. They were missed, they were mourned - but life began to go on as usual. Harry had not forgotten his friends - but he'd ceased to dwell on them.

Then one day, with the first signs of spring just beginning to bloom, Hedwig returned from one of her flights in a state of distress. She immediately changed into human form, her body shaking. She looked as if on the verge of tears.

"Harry," she asked, breathless, "do you love your friends?"

What kind of question was that? Of course he did. "Yes..."

"Enough to see the truth?"

"Of course. But I don't see how the two are related..."

She cut him off, her voice full of urgency. "Then you have to come with me. See for yourself."

"Erm," he began. "You're forgetting something. I don't know how to fly."

"Oh," she said, digging into her pockets. "Thought I had some somewhere...ah, here it is." She withdrew her hand, holding a fistful of glittery powder. "You must sprinkle the fairy dust over you, and think happy thoughts."

Happy thoughts? How could he be happy in a time like this? Besides, it sounded like something out of a fairy tale.

"Please," Hedwig said, "for your friends."

Well - nothing to lose. He reached out his hand and let her pour the fairy dust into it. The happy memory was tougher - the events of the past couple of months kept intruding on it. He thought back to his first year at school. Candies on the train. Under the invisibility cloak. The Mirror of Erised. With a flick of his fingers, he released the powder over his head

Suddenly he felt light, airy. He looked down - his feet were floating off the ground. Hedwig shot him a small smile, just a slight crack of the lips. "Let's go," she said. Off they went, shooting over the green buds on the trees below.

They flew for miles on end, over mountains and valleys, pastures and farmlands, fields and forests. It was just like Quidditch, but without broomsticks. Harry felt the thrill of the air rushing by, the sensation of floating. He almost wished he could be a bird like Hedwig and experience it all the time.

Finally, Hedwig indicated a small clearing in a patch of forest, and they set down. Returning to her human form, she took hold of his hand. "This is going to be hard," she said, taking a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to see this?"

"I have to," Harry replied. "We've come this far."

"Okay." She led him over to a dense hedge, and pointed.

There, in the undergrowth, lay a decaying body. Ron's body. A mop of red hair crowned it; even after this many months, it was still recognizable.

Harry drew in a sharp breath. It felt like knives. Specks floated before his eyes. He felt lightheaded, felt nauseous. The clearing swam before him.

Hedwig was holding him now, her thin arms around his body. "It's ok," she whispered, her voice colored by tears. He felt the warmth of her body against her, the presence of living, human flesh.

"He's dead," Harry managed, gasping for breath. "He's not coming back."

"He's not," said Hedwig, softly.

Harry broke down in long choking sobs. Gone...gone...gone forever. Those remains in the bushes were all that was left of his best friend. They would never again go to class together, eat together, play together, get in trouble together.

"Why did you bring me out here? Why couldn't you have just left me to my ignorance? I didn't have to know - didn't have to find out."

Hedwig took his chin in her hand and brought his gaze to hers. He found himself looking her straight in the eye, those two big, round, slitted eyes, eyes that - he knew now, somehow - had seen more than their share of hurt. "You did," she said simply.

"Bad things happen, Harry," she went on. "Closing your eyes to them doesn't make them go away. If you didn't find out today, you might have next month, or next year, or next generation. It wouldn't be any less painful then. Better to deal with it now and end the waiting and worrying." She paused, out of breath, unused to speaking so many words. Or perhaps not. Perhaps Ron's death had hit her just as hard.

"I was doing just fine...just fine not knowing....I didn't have to find out." But deep down, Harry knew that to be untrue. And Hedwig knew that he knew it.

"You can't just bury your head in the sand like an ostrich. You can't unlearn things, you can't undo things. Time flows in only one direction. You just have to deal with the past and move onto the future."

"However sucky that future may be," Harry commented. "I've lost so many other loved one...and now him too. What'll be left? A life alone in hell for all eternity?"

"I know Harry, I know," she said, and looking into her eyes, Harry understood that she did know. They held secrets too, secrets and wisdom - the wisdom of an owl. But wisdom alone can't change things - it can only guide the changes in the right direction.

The two stood in the clearing for a long while, not speaking, merely holding each other. Harry felt her body against his, the body that wasn't quite owl, yet not quite human either. Not a whole human, at least. But despite this, he knew that somewhere, deep within themselves, there was a bond between them. The fighter and the observer, the doer and the seer.

They held each other for the longest while, an eternity between them, almost until daybreak. Two sides of the whole; two ends of the cord. Death and life, revenge and empathy, body and soul. At last, just as the cloud of night began melting into the strands of daylight, they took off into the sunrise, to find help and salvation.