HEDWIG

CHAPTER TWO

HEDWIG

35 Years Later
London, England

The crisp autumn air ruffled through the feathers of a snowy, white owl that was perched upon the roof of the King's Cross Train Station, observing the busy people below. She had been there since dawn and was growing impatient for her godson. She wished they'd hurry on. The muggles were beginning to notice her more loudly.

She wouldn't normally risk the attention - though the war was over, not all her enemies were dead or in Azkaban - she wanted to see Albus off for his first year. She'd have to play it safe and nothing was safer than pretending to be an owl. They were peculiar creatures, but it wasn't entirely absurd to find one in the city, awake when it should be asleep. Besides, most everyone that had known about her animagus died in the war. She was safer as a bird. Always have been. Even when she had been at Hogwarts herself.

When her audience grew, bringing more attention to her perch than she'd like, she finally saw him. Harry. A family of five was walking up to the station, drawing some attention themselves as they wheeled around two heavily laden trolleys; each with a large trunk and birdcage, encasing two beautiful owls.

Cecelia hooted loudly before sweeping over the heads of the thrilled muggles, making a couple children laugh in delight. She circled only a moment, before flying directly into King's Cross. She had to duck and dive and dodge as she flew straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Instead of hitting the brick barrier, she reappeared on the other side where the scarlet red engine of the Hogwarts Express greeted her with a welcoming glint.

The owl settled onto the sign that read: Platform 9 ¾ - and waited.

Finally, the family of five materialized through the same barrier and onto the platform where she was waiting for them. The owl sat up a little straighter, her chest swelling with pride. The sight of her now fully grown godson threatened to sway her to tears, but she held it in. It was strange to see her species of bird in daylight, but even more unnatural to see one cry. Even in the Wizarding World.

He was a man now with three children and a beautiful wife. He was the lead Auror for the Ministry of Magic and kept their world at peace with itself. She thought of times long passed when she once believed she would not live long enough to see this moment. In fact, there was a time when she thought Harry, too, would not live long enough to make this life for himself. However, not all fortunes come to pass in the way one thinks it will. But despite the gratitude that encased her heart, her only wish was that the ones who deserved to see this moment, could.

The oldest of the three Potter children, James, had run off to greet his friends and in his haste left his family behind. Cecelia smirked when she thought about how much James was alike to the man he was named after; audacious and all trouble. She had to keep a special eye on him last year, as he developed a rather healthy taste for adventure. Cecelia recalled that the young Potter had stolen a very useful heirloom, enabling him to venture through the halls of the Hogwarts castle undetected and straight into Honey Dukes Cellar - just as his father had done before him.

Memories of her own time at Hogwarts started to trickle in at the back of her mind. She had always been a loner, because of what she was - at least, until the moment she met four of the greatest friends a young nobody could ever hope for; Sirius, James, Lupin, and Peter. It made her sad to think of them. She was happiest with them. Happy within the safe walls of Hogwarts. She had felt, for the first time, that she had finally belonged somewhere. But life makes soldiers of us all, she thought. By taking away the things we took for granted.

The rest of the Potters were obscured by a sudden stream of white steam that had billowed from the Hogwarts Express, confusing them in their haste to find James. But, they emerged, unscathed and joined another family. The Weasleys.

"Parked all right, then?" A balding red-haired man asked Harry as they approached. Ronald Weasley held out his hand and shook Harry's with a vigorousness that suggested they were close friends. They began to chat, but it was hard to hear what they were saying over the growing crowds of other families.

Cecelia dove from her perch and relocated upon the train to hear and see better. They were saying their goodbyes to their children, but she noticed how Albus lingered behind. Harry scooped him up into a hug. "Bye, Al. Don't forget Hagrid's invited you to tea next Friday. Don't mess with Peeves. Don't duel anyone till you've learned how. And, don't let James wind you up."

"What if I'm in Slytherin?" he asked, with the saddest expression Cecelia had ever seen on the boy.

"Albus Severus," Harry murmured, crouching down so that his son's face was slightly above his own. He gently clasped Albus's shoulders. "You were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."

"But, just say-"

"-then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won't it? It doesn't matter to us, Al. But if it matters to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account."

"Really?"

"It did for me," Harry assured him.

Suddenly, the doors started to close along the scarlet train and Albus gave them one more goodbye glance before hopping in. When the doors shut behind him and the train started to move, Cecelia took flight and perched back onto the platform's sign.

She watched Harry wave at the train and after it had disappeared, swiftly and almost absentmindedly, he brushed the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. She wanted to know what he was thinking and what he remembered from that night? 

Just then, as if someone had called out his name, he turned and spotted the owl sitting on the sign. He noticed the strange way the bird froze - as if she knew she'd been spotted. Harry's eyes widened as he recognized the snowy white color of her feathers and the bright glow of her amber eyes considering his green ones.

This bird was a ghost from his childhood. A reminder of those he loved and lost. She even perched the same way Hedwig had, but it was not possible. Hedwig was dead. She died nineteen years ago and no one could cheat death.

"What's wrong?" Ginny touched his shoulder, just as the snowy white owl flew away and out of sight.

Harry stared at the spot where the owl had perched only a few seconds before and shook himself. He turned to Ginny with a weak smile. "It was nothing."

She frowned, unconvinced. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Harry returned his gaze to the platform's sign. "I thought I had, too."