Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 8: Hedwig's message

Harry awoke with a start to the sound of a scratching noise on his bedroom window. He opened his eyes to nothingness and noticed that his glasses were pressed uncomfortably across his forehead. He pulled them off, checking to see if they were broken, and then felt around for the bedside table for a place to put them.

The scratching noise came again and he remembered why he woke. He climbed out of bed, his hands following the edge of the table to the window frame, where he found the latch, undid it, and pulled up the window frame to let Hedwig inside. Cool night air brushed against his skin, pushing away the stale, heavy air of the room.

Hedwig hooted impatiently on the sill until he got it up high enough. Once she hopped inside, he felt around the outside of the window, confirming that the Dursleys had not replaced the bars on the window that had been yanked out by Fred, George, and Ron as they rescued Harry from his prison of a room in their father's flying Ford Anglia the summer before.

He leaned out the window. Over the constant haze of traffic and the distant rumble of trains, crickets thrummed their songs, echoed by frogs in the not too distant park. More of the cool night air pushed past Harry and into his room. Hedwig made a soft growling noise and he ducked back into the room.

"Hiya, Hedwig," Harry said as he smoothed her soft feathers where she was perched on the table by his bed.

His throat tightened; he was thankful for a companion. She thrust her head into his hand, begging for more caresses. After a bit, she started hopping around oddly.

"What are you doing, Hedwig?"

He felt down her body and found that she was sticking out her leg. He must have received a letter. He sighed heavily and untied the scroll from her leg. He unrolled it and ran his fingers over the small bit of parchment. He could feel the swell where ink had absorbed into the paper and knew that someone had written him a note, but he couldn't decipher it.

"Do you know what it says, Hedwig?" he asked as he laid it down on the table next to his glasses.

She gave a gentle hoot, her claws scratching on the table. She seemed to be rooting around again.

"Are you looking for food, Hedwig?"

She bobbed in response.

"Sorry, girl. I don't have anything. You'll have to hunt."

She hopped to the sill and, in a burst of flapping wings and claws scritching against the sill, was gone. His stomach rumbled in response.

He was going to have to sneak down to the kitchen to hunt for food himself. How many times had he done this? It dawned on him that he could easily navigate this house in the dark. The thought made a small flame of hope light in his core.

He knew it was night because the house was quiet (except for Vernon's snores) and he couldn't see any lights at all, but he had no idea what time of night it was. He remembered something the Healer had said about his staff and walked over to where he'd left it by the door. His foot struck something metal that clanged loudly and he stumbled against the door, banging into it.

He froze as he listened, his heart beating wildly. Vernon was sure to wake up and come storming into the room. He heard the snoring stop and held his breath, waiting for the explosion. But then the snoring started up again, uneven at first, then more rhythmic. As he slid down the door, his hand found the cat flap that had been fitted on the door last summer. He reached out to find whatever it was he had crashed into.

Hedwig's cage.

His things must have arrived while he was sleeping. He imagined that his trunk was locked in the cupboard under the stairs.