Happy New Year everyone! Sorry this has taken me so long to get this chapter up, but here it is! More mystery awaits Hedwig and things are certainly not looking so safe at Hogwarts.

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Year 1: Hedwig and the Origin of Species
■□Chapter Six: Troll in the Forest

Hedwig had tried asking Fang more about what he meant by the Origin of Species, but the slobbering mutt couldn’t provide her with any more information than it that the Origin of Species was something small since he had seen his master bring it into the hut in a small brown leather bag before the Headmaster had come to take it and put it somewhere within the walls of the castle. Hedwig had flown back to the Owlery with her tail feathers in a fluff. Origin of Species? It sounded like some sort of textbook you read in school. With so many unanswered questions and Harry to worry about, it was a wonder that Hedwig got any sleep that night.

Just as the sun broke the horizon the next morning, Hedwig awoke to the smell of warm pumpkin pies, juicy pot roasts, and fresh dinner rolls pouring from the kitchens where the house elves were busy at work. Deciding to stretch her wings a bit, Hedwig took off towards the kitchen when she spotted Artemis flying, a little wobbly, towards a familiar window. “What is he up to?” she chirped to herself as she changed her flight course to pursue her owl companion. It took him several tries, but he finally made his way through the narrow window. Hedwig followed, but remained on the stone pane as she observed Artemis slowly waddle towards the mysterious mirror where he then stood very still gazing into it. How often did he come here? Hadn’t he instructed her to avoid looking into it.

Hedwig watched for a few minutes as Artemis stared into the mirror with his large brown eyes glazed over. What was it that Artemis saw in the mirror? A ridiculous thought struck Hedwig as she remembered the conversation they had had the last time they met in this room. Could it be possible that Artemis was the owl from the story he had told her? Someone as cold as him couldn’t possibly be the same owl that had found themselves so dedicated to a single witch, could he? Hedwig was beginning to think that he could be and was about to ask him when she heard the trees rustle unusually loud in the Forbidden Forest. Hedwig’s head turned 180 degrees around to see what was making such a ruckus, but all she saw was a clump of tress moving as if someone were hitting them very hard with a large log.

Before Artemis could notice Hedwig’s presence, she flew away from the tower and directed her flight towards the trees. Fang had warned her about this forest. How he only ever ventured in there if Hagrid was with him because of all the dangers and something about very large spiders. Not seeing sausage fingers around, Hedwig decided to take it upon herself to do the investigation. Weaving through the trees as if in an airborne dance, Hedwig made her way towards the source of all the movement with her golden eyes the most alert they had ever been. Soon, she found herself in a clearing with a single large tree and something very large sitting next to it thumbing a great bat like object against it. “What is that?” Hedwig squawked in horror. The creature was larger than sausage fingers and made the hairy man look like prince charming.

It was then that Hedwig took noticed of a small quivering figure with a purple mass on his head. Flying for a closer look, Hedwig recognized him from when she had looked into one of the windows of the Great Hall during the opening feast to check on Harry. “Oh, well, that’s a relief,” she said to herself as she touched down on a nearby branch. “It’s one of the professors at Hogwarts. Must be checking on Ugly over there.” She was about to head back to the Owlery when she heard the man speak.

“I promise Master, you will have it in your grap tonight,” the man with the purple mop on his head said with a confident tone as thin as wet rice paper. Was he honestly talking to Ugly? Perhaps Hogwarts was in need of a serious revaluation of their teaching staff?

What Hedwig heard next could hardly have been considered words, but more like a cold hiss that sent a shiver through Hedwig’s feathers and made her get owl bumps. Ugly, who seemed rather content hitting a tree with his boulder-sized hamburger of a fist, made a kind of exciting gargling noise when it noticed Hedwig perched on a branch above him. Hedwig tilted her head to the side. Hamburger hands better not try anything unless he wanted his eyes pecked out. “No, no one suspects a thing,” the man continued clearly showing signs of stress in his quivering voice and nervous glances around the forest. Then there was more hissing, this time not cold but sounding like it was on fire and that the very tree on which she perched would go up in flames at any moment. Carpet wearing man looked as though he were going to either pass out on the spot or throw up when there was some rustling in the trees in front of them. Still keeping hamburger hands visible out of the corner of her eyes, Hedwig looked up to see a familiar black cloaked wearing figure of a certain oily haired professor emerge from the trees with a scowl on his face that even a mother would have a hard time loving.

“Professor Quirrel, out for a stroll enjoying the sunlight are we?” the man said in a taunting tone knowing that purple carpet wearing man was doing nothing of the sort. “What’s this? A friend of yours? I thought only Hagrid was the sort of person who sought the company of such…creatures.”

“P-P-P-P-Prof-f-f-fessor S-S-S-Snape, h-h-h-how lo-lov-lov-lovely to see you,” the other man replied. His sudden change in speech patterns threw Hedwig off guard. He had just been speaking fluidly moments ago.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Quirrel. I’ve seen you sneaking about the castle when you think others are not looking,” Slimey said practically spitting acid at carpet head with each word.

“I-I-I-I was j-j-j-ju-j-just…”

“Save your breath.” If looks could kill, Professor Quirrel would be dead already from the glare Snape was giving him. “I know you are up to something, Quirrel, so why don’t you tell me what it is you are doing or else give me a reason why I shouldn’t go through my storage room so I can brew something that will make you.” At the moment, Snape’s voice sounded more menacing than the hissing noise from earlier.

“I-I-I-I was j-j-ju-ju-just checking on s-s-s-some things t-t-t-t-to use f-f-f-for class. H-H-H-Ha-Hagrid m-m-m-must h-h-h-ha-ha-have t-t-tied this t-t-t-troll up here s-s-s-seeing as s-s-s-some-t-t-thing has b-b-b-been s-s-sm-smashing his p-p-p-pumpkins.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at Quirrel and took a quick glance over his shoulder to look at the troll, but then the man’s gaze stopped rested directly on Hedwig with an unusually soft expression.

“Seeing is I do not care to hear you stutter any more, nor do I care about what Hagrid does with his free time, I will not check on your story. However, I will be watching you, Quirrel, very closely.”

With a wave of his cape and one last look up at Hedwig, Snape turned to walk back towards Hogwarts castle. Just as he did, the hissing grew louder and caused Snape to turn on his heels and stare at Quirrel with an expression not of fear or confusion, but one of disbelief and knowing. Without saying another word, he turned back toward the castle and with extra haste in his step exited the forest.