Hedwig. There were still times when Harry Potter missed his owl. Through all his happiness, his joy and comfort at home, there were moments in which all he wanted was his old friend. Sometimes he wished he could just feed his Hedwig treats again, touch her silky feathers, and watch her soar through the night sky.

There were moments where he would absentmindedly turn to stroke the phantom being on his shoulder, only to find it empty. His arm felt abnormally light most days, yearning for the added weight of his snowy bird.

Why wouldn't he miss his owl? Hedwig went through all those Dursley days with him. Hooting in indignation when Harry was locked in his room, pecking his fingers affectionately when he received no mail from any of his friends, and perched on his shoulder when all he wanted was someone to talk to.

She was there all his Christmas mornings, wisely supervising as the colorful paper flew in scattered directions. Appearing at the school window, bleeding and injured, yet faithfully carrying a parcel in her elegant claws. She was never far away when Harry first stepped foot in Hogwarts; gawky, nervous, and shy.

No matter what they had gone through, at the end of the day Hedwig was still Harry Potter's friend. A friend who never judged him, hated him or expected too much of him. A friend that Harry only wished was here now.


In memory of Hedwig who passed during the Deathly Hallows.