Hedson,

I stood with shaking legs
cupping my palm over my fragile passenger,
as “The one” looked up and caught my eye.

It was him.
None could mistake that scar.
It was almost another person
standing beside his shadow.
I trembled to utter the name
cleared my throat,
started again.

“Mr. Potter.
I have something for you”.
The phrase,
“I can do this,
I can do this,
I can do this”
echoing in my heart.

His eyes studied me
and he smiled slightly
putting me at ease,
somewhat.

I lifted my cupped palms
drawing his gaze.
His hand sought his pocket,
just in case.
“Wand pocket”
I whispered to my brain.

“Please don’t blast me
please don’t blast me
please don’t bast me
I chanted.
Hoping my lips did not move.

The snowy white head popped up
easing his stance, as he recognized,
the feathered passenger in my palm.
Though, I knew, he still did not understand.

“His name is Hedson”
I whispered.
“He is Hedwig’s son”.

His eyes grew big,
and I small tear seemed to sparkle
on the edge of his vision,
as I passed the small owl over
into his palm.

“He has been told about his father
and he would not stop trying to fly
and find you.
He is determined to follow
in his fathers feather.”

I allowed him
no moment to refuse,
but apparatated quickly away.

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