Hedwig and Hogwarts

Two weeks had passed since Salazar had begun his strange habits; much of that time was spent reading without reprieve (as well as a bit of muttering), and the portrait showed no sign of stopping. As such, Harry had been forced to vacate the chamber for the better part of each day; if he chose not to, he would have to suffer through immensely irritating headaches, all of which were caused by the portrait's actions.

Harry had therefore decided to spend the better part of the fourteen days in the Owlery with Hedwig. He would often bring a few theory books out from the chamber, to help him with his spell casting. He was making steady improvements - he would wager he was by far the best at practical magic in the year - but it was nothing to gloat about. Dumbledore wasn't a fourth year. Neither was Voldemort.

Harry had also chosen to attend a few of his classes, but that was merely out of feeling lonely (and perhaps a bit bored), as opposed to actually being interested in learning anything. Harry was now feeling more alone than ever, as he only could really interact with Hedwig. Attending the classes was helping a fair bit - he at least talked to people very now and then - but Harry still felt lonely, and still remained alone. It was as though he was being locked into his cupboard, alone to suffer within the depths of the darkness.

Regardless of how lonely he felt, Harry only ever attended Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry had originally gone to Herbology as well, but decided against it after the look of annoyance he was sent by Professor Sprout and the Hufflepuffs. The glares were not as hostile as before, but they were not exactly pleasant either.

Susan was nice though. Harry quite like her, if he was being honest. She had been shy at the start, but that was slowly changing. More importantly, she treated Harry with kindness and respect, and had always done so.

Her friend, Hannah, wasn't to bad too bad as well. Harry didn't like her nearly as much as he did Susan, however; he was fairly certain that the girl was only kind to him because Susan had asked her to be.

Regardless, it mattered little at the moment; Harry was not interested in returning to Professor Sprout's care, regardless of enjoying the presence of a few of the woman's pupils.

The Owlery was rather nice if Harry was being honest. The place was rather calming thanks to the gentle breeze it held. The lack of human voices also likely had something to do with it. There were no windows either; Harry felt free up hear, not unsimilar to how he often felt on his firebolt.

The only downside had been the rather putrid smell. The owls did not seem to particularly care where they went to the bathroom, judging by the furnishings of the Owlery.

Harry had decided to use the piles of dung as practice for his wandless magic, particularly his elemental control. He had progressed with his current elements to the point where he could create small bolts of lightning spark from his hands, although aiming them was much harder.

Fire, however, hadn't been nearly as hard. Harry had been rather grateful that the Owlery was not made of wood; that might have caused a disaster. As a matter of fact, there had still been a few times when the fire somehow managed to spread. Harry had used his wand to conjure water both times, not willing to rely on his wandless magic just yet.

At the very moment, Harry sat in the Owlery with Hedwig, feeding her several strips of bacon he had procured from the Gryffindor table at breakfast. The food Harry provided her with seemed to be her main source of food as far as Harry could tell. The small rodents she often hunted were almost always given to him, as a sort of gift from Hedwig.

It had taken Hedwig the first few months of Harry's first year to understand that Harry did not eat the miniature creatures. She still brought them, of course, but now she simply showed them to Harry before tossing them away. Rather wasteful, but Harry didn't particularly care.

On the off chance that she might accidentally hunt down Pettigrew.

Harry knew it wouldn't happen, but it didn't hurt to hope. But from what he remembered from Professor Trelawney's prophecy, Wormtail was likely long gone, no doubt bowing before Tom Marvolo Riddle at this very moment. Harry truthfully didn't understand why Pettigrew would return to help Voldemort. From what Harry knew of the dark lord, he certainly didn't seem to be someone one might want to spend time with.

Or perhaps he was. Harry was beginning to understand what Salazar meant - Voldemort and Tom Riddle were two very different people. The former was horrible, as shell of what he once was. The latter no doubt had his issues, but he had not yet fallen so deeply. Neither was pleasant - at least not to harry - but only one was a monster.

Regardless, Harry doubted that neither Tom Marvolo Riddle nor Lord Voldemort would care even slightly for Wormtail's wellbeing. For the rat Animagus to return was immensely foolish.

And the many stupidities of my generation continue . . .

Harry very well remembered what Trelawney had said about the servant returning to his master. He had still chosen to check the Marauder's Map for the traitorous rat, but had yet to find anything. He was not surprised; he had always known that such a thing was unlikely to say the least.

Harry also used the map to make sure no one was around when he came to visit the Owlery. He had applied many basic wards Salazar had taught him to repel people from visiting, but they were not powerful enough to stop anyone who was truly determined to enter the place.

"Stupid Salazar." Harry muttered, setting fire to a rather large pile of dung on the far side of the room.

Many of the owls around him hooted in annoyance, though they instantly quieted when Hedwig flapped her wings.

That was something Harry was grateful for: the owls of Hogwarts always quieted when Hedwig asked them to. Why, Harry was not sure. He suspected it had something to do with her intelligence. It was painfully obvious that the strength of her mind greatly surpassed those of other owls. Harry wondered if the submissiveness of the other owls had anything to do with that.

Harry had therefore made his way over to the library (under his Invisibility Cloak), attempting to research the subject. As it turned out, however, his talent for researching was not at all on par with his ability to use magic. It was something he would have to change. Left with little other choice, Harry had returned to the chamber, voicing his curiosities to Salazar.

The portrait had only spent a few seconds thinking on the subject before responding, as opposed to the several minutes he usually took. After that, he had immediately returned to his stack of books.

If Harry was being honest with himself, he was rather annoyed with the portrait at the moment. The past two weeks had not been particularly substantial when it came to his magical improvement. He was certainly prodigious for his age, that was no doubt, but his power was still below that of those he was competing against, particularly Fleur and Krum.

The other champions did not know that, thanks to the spell he had used for the first task (which they simply assumed was a one-off occurrence, as far as Harry could tell). But after studying the spell deeply, Harry had to concede that Salazar had been right. The spell was made perfectly for a Mage; had he not been one, he highly doubted he could have pulled it off with nearly as much success as he had.

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